Wilson -- the parents I adopted

When my parents passed away in 1993, I naturally enough felt lonely for them. Alas, I exercised an option which is not afforded to everyone.... I adopted a set of parents! Of course, it is hugely convenient that June and Merle Wilson are my wife's cousins, and that they live only a few minutes from us. They are the social hub for (almost) all Wilson / Schaefer / Cameron / Williams / Henderson family gatherings in Kansas City. Many, many joyous and delicious-food-a-plenty holidays have been spent at their home, including Thanksgivings and Easters, 4th's of July, and birthday celebrations. After I introduced June to microcomputers (to which she took like a duck to water!), I found myself increasingly enjoying their company and friendship. So, I decided to complete the circle of others choosing me, by my choosing them, as the next set of parents with whom I could share life and living. A wonderful decision on my part, if I don't say so myself!

Here's June and Merle and their extended family.

(photograph by Rick Wilson)

From left to right (and yes, I know you have to scroll to see everyone!):

Jim Williams and his wife, Jean; Rick Wilson, son of June & Merle, Rick's wife Diane. Next to Diane is June & Merle's daughter Rhonda. Standing behind Rhonda is her husband Gene Schaefer. The gentleman with his arm around Rhonda is Mr. Merle "Woody" Wilson himself. Behind Woody is Rhonda's son Shawn. Standing next to Woody is June Wilson, the "Betty Crocker"-baker, costume-shop-owner, computer-enthusiast, and genealogist-extraordinnaire in the family. Jan, Dennis, and Lorene Cameron complete the picture.

Yes, I delight in the number of 'parents' I claim (which is different from the number which claim me!). Several months after meeting my blood sisters, I opted to visit my blood father, Alva Wayne DeHart, and as I wrote in my '94 Christmas letter, "...we actually look alike, 'cept he's more wrinkled." We've met a couple of times since, and from those meetings, I gather I received some of my basic sense of humor from him. It's for sure I didn't inherit any from my blood mother, Wanda. My one and only meeting with her happened in May, 1995, when I surprised her and Mary at a store close to where she lives. After saying something like "You've not seen me in over 40 years," I handed her a folder containing some photographs of myself, and when it finally dawned on her who I was, she closed the folder, handed it back to me, then turned and walked away, without uttering a single word. Guess I struck out with her a second time. As this futile meeting demonstrates, connecting with your long-lost blood relatives isn't always a treat.

Thus, my parents are of four sets: birth, adoptive, in-laws, and chosen. I made a passing grade with 3 of the 4 mothers, which is good enough, I guess. (Maybe that one shouldn't count.)

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