George Miller was my mothers half brother.
Wait! What? My mother has a half brother??? Why, after 38 years, am I just finding this out now? Because my mothers side of the family are hats made of rabid badger asses.
I guess in the 40’s my grandfather hooked up with this woman (I’m not sure at this point if they got married) and a little time later George was born. The mother and grandfather split (details on this are not clear) and she doesn’t let my grandfather see him. Off to court they go. She gets him for child support -a fair amount I guess- and he’s supossed to have visitation but the mother doesn’t follow through with it.
A little bit later my grandfather and grandmother get together. Two years after George was born my mother is born. Grandfather STILL can’t see George but he still is paying out support.
According to my mother, by the time George was a teen my grandfather had given up all hope of having a relationship with him. For some reason my grandparents didn’t tell my mother or her two sisters about George until my mother was in high school.
Grandfather died in May of 1967 and was put in the ground the day I was born (as a side note: this is the reason my grandmother never sent me a birthday card). He was never able to have a relationship with his son.
Fast forward to the 70’s and my weird grandmother makes up a story that George died in Vietnam. I guess to sway the three daughters away from finding him. By that time it seems George had dropped his birth name and was using Miller. That makes finding him even harder.
Fast forward a few more years and his birth name is easy to find now that he’s dead. My aunt tracked him down not long ago on Google. This is the same aunt who has wanted to meet her half brother the most.
So, to my mothers half brothers mother - FUCK YOU. You stood in the way of my grandfather knowing his son.
To my grandmother - FUCK YOU. You lied about this mans death to your daughters so they wouldn’t meet him because you were pissed off at his mother because of the shit she put grandfather through.
To my mom - well… I guess you only get a half hearted fuck you. Why didn’t I know you had a half brother until a few days ago?
Oddly, if George didn’t find his way into show business he most likely would have been using his given name . My aunt who had been looking for him might have found him before he died. So, George, I guess you get a semi “fuck you” as well. (I think I remember my mother saying Miller was his mothers name). That said “Dornberger” isn’t much of a stage name so I won’t hold it against you.
Man I hate my mothers side of the family and all their stupid dysfunctional bullshit.
(Disclaimer: Details of the history are fuzzy and were told to me by my mother who has managed to piece them together over the years. As no one in the family talks about this, real details may vary)