Today would have been my half-brother's 80th birthday. It is very likely that my mother was not married to my half-brother's father, a man born in Dublin, Ireland, who totally disappeared from the scene.
It would seem then, that my half-brother was a bastard.
When I was a child, the word "bastard" had little meaning to me save for being all-purpose term of derogation. I did not understand the harshness, the ugliness of the word and I actually called my brother that name once. He understood in full the word. I hope that he understood that I uttered it in ignorance.
My brother's senior picture is posted for eternity in the images on cyberspace. I do not know who or why that picture is there but it reminds me that my brother was a very good-looking man. He must have resembled his father because he does not look that much like me or like my cousins on my mother's side.
He was also absolutely beautiful and angelic looking as a child. He was witty and had a delicious sense of humor. His father, his father's family missed out on knowing a delightful human being, save for a touch of brotherly meanness to an annoying younger sister.
The concept of "bastardy" is one of the reasons I abandoned Christianity. It is also one of the reasons why I repeatedly attack the ugly corruption and hypocrisy of Irish Catholicism. I am getting back at his father and all his ilk.
Any way, Happy Birthday, Bro!