Discovering more of my identity and an aunt I didn't know I had, pt. 1

Genetics are funny.

I have my grandfather's eyebrows, my father's hands, one dimple in my right cheek like my mother, and a birthmark in the same place on my body as my mother, her sister and my brother. I collected that much about my identity through observation.

I was lucky to know my mother's grandmother, my Nana, as well as my mother's grandfather, Gramps, and his wife, Grandma Theresa. Pépère, Nana's husband, passed before I was born. Still, between those grandparents, I knew that I was Irish, French and Italian, respectively. I also knew that I had Native American heritage on both sides, but wasn't sure what percentage.

Although there's been extensive research done on my father's side, there was still a lot I was curious about. As such, I decided to send my spit off to Ancestry and waited patiently for the results.

Initially, the results didn't surprise me too much, other than the fact that there was some Asian descent - 1 percent. Overall, everything made sense, except the list of names that I'd never heard of. Scrolling through, there were some relatives that I knew, but to be honest, it was overwhelming. The amount of first cousins that I didn't personally know was kind of startling.

I remember stumbling on a Polish-sounding last name and thinking, well, now I know this cannot be right. It didn't show up anywhere, so why would I have a relative with a Polish last name?

Over time, more relatives started to join the genealogy company and the percentage of each ethnicity was recalculated. The Asian descent disappeared and my Italian increased. My Native heritage dwindled down to a single percentage, which I learned from friends in a local tribe that my results may or may not confirm expected ethnic composition, family history or genealogical determinations.

Either way, I ignored my basic instincts to research a name further until my cousin Jennie and I matched with the same Polish-sounding last names. It was Jennie that asked me who they were, but again, I didn't think much of it.

When I was younger, I'd heard stories of having more relatives on both sides of my family. In my experience, I've found that stories aren't always true, but at the same time, some kind of truth lies in how they originated. Either way, Jennie reached out to say that she thought that the mother of those relatives with the Polish-sounding last name was my mother's sister. She thought that her father and my mother had another sibling. I had so many feelings.

I adored my Papa. I couldn't fathom to think that he had another child that he never told me about. I knew stories about him that I'm not sure that he told anyone. I knew about his feelings of his parents, his siblings and of when he met my grandmother. I knew that when my Gram was fighting with Mum or Auntie Bev or Uncle Bernie, Papa would still sneak over and spend time with them. He loved children. He loved his family. Did he know? Was he hiding this from us? Why?

Unfortunately, I wouldn't get the answers that I wanted because my Papa died September 2017. Because I couldn't get that answer, I decided it was important to find out the truth genetically, at least. The first person I began messaging through Ancestry's platform was "Ali" in late July of 2018. She had already spoken briefly to my cousin Jennie as well. According to Ancestry, Ali was a first or second cousin and we shared 429 centimorgans across 20 segments of DNA. From what I understand, a shared DNA segment is a chunk of genetic material shared between two people, and the length of a segment is reported in "centimorgans."

From the Ancestry platform, we moved to text messaging. I feel like we connected as much as two people that don't know each other possibly could that didn't know anything about each other, other than we were related. She seemed to have a friendly tone in her text messages, but I still had so many conflicting thoughts and feelings about it all. Our DNA said we were cousins, but it didn't necessarily define what her mother was to me or my Mum or my Papa.

Typical of my regular quest for information, I researched Ali through various databases. Sorry, if you're just seeing this now, Ali, but I totally did! I found photos, where she went to school ... it was crazy. She actually looked like my Papa's family. She looked like a Duhamel.

The conversation that Ali and I had was really light. She suggested I talk to her mother, who I learned was named Maria. In the meantime, my head still swirled with uncertainty.