The Milkman’s Son by Randy Lindsay – Great Summer Reads 2020



RANDY LINDSAY is a native of Arizona. He lives in Mesa with his wife, five of his nine children, a dog, a cat, and a hyperactive imagination. His wife calls him the “Story Man” because he sees everything as material for a story. He has three books traditionally published and four indie-published titles.
As a family historian, Randy has 14 years of genealogy experience. He has researched over 5,000 names in his own family tree and helped over a dozen other people in their ancestral quests. He has a passion for family history and a newfound appreciation for the frequency in which family relations can turn out to be different than what everyone believes to be true.

 ~ Website ~
   


“Raised in a family he bore little resemblance to, Randy was jokingly referred to as “”the milkman’s son.”” This warm and candid memoir chronicles the unraveling of a family secret, which begins with Randy’s dad having dreams about deceased relatives urging him to complete their family tree. Randy agrees to help with the genealogy, but after his searching leads to a dead end, he takes a commercially available DNA test. The results reveal a possible genetic match to a sister, which begins a familial quest that forever changes the author’s life.

Featuring a cast of vivid characters, richly drawn from two distinct families, The Milkman’s Son, reveals on man’s family tree, pulling back layers of new information as he gets closer to the truth–a biological father, siblings, and family members he never knew existed.
This is a story of accepting, forgiving, reuniting, and, most importantly, it’s about the bonds that connect us and the unconditional love that makes us feel like we belong. “

~ Universal Amazon Link
     




Snippet:

A “What does this mean?” option on the information box opens another chart. I study the chart to understand what 1,700 centiMorgans means for Tammy and me. The amount is lower than the DNA shared between parent and child, and it’s lower than the amount shared between full siblings. But the amount lands right in the middle of how much DNA I might share with a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, or . . . a half-sibling.
A half-sibling.
Based on the information from Tammy’s family tree, I run the numbers and figure out her brother is close to my age. Maybe even younger. This rules out the possibility of him being my grandfather. It also makes it unlikely for him to be my uncle. That leaves only one possibility.
My dad doesn’t have a long-lost, secret brother. I do.




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