When she was a newborn, his celebrity’s biological parents placed her for adoption.
Because their occupations meant more to them than raising a child, the star’s birth parents didn’t want her when she was born.
Up until the truth was revealed, the actress’ adoptive parents had been lying about her background.
The French Hospital in Los Angeles, which is now defunct, was the hospital where the future celebrity was born on May 8, 1964. The actress was adopted by Barbara Crane and Paul Gilbert, who took her in when she was just 24 hours old.
Jonathan, her younger brother, was also adopted by the couple. Barbara was a twentysomething actress whose career was cut short, and Paul was a stand-up comedian, actor, and dancer who began as an aerialist with a family circus from Buenos Aires. Barbara and Paul parted ways when the young child was six years old, but his daughter remembered him with affection, saying:
“I have never known a more brilliant, energetic, humorous, loving, and fair person than my father.”
When Paul passed away in 1976, many believed he had suffered a stroke while in bed. Her adoption was made public. The celebrity claimed in her book “Prairie Tale: A Memoir” that she was informed when she was a young kid that her father, David Darlington, had been a Rhodes Scholar and that her biological mother, Kathy Wood, was a prima ballerina.
Her birth parents reportedly had no desire to give up their occupations in order to raise her, according to her adopted parents. The timing of the celebrity’s birth was allegedly incorrect, and as a result, they had to give up their daughter because her father was in the middle of a project.
She learned the whole truth about her biological parents when she was old enough. Although not a prima ballerina, her birth mother was a dancer, and David was a stock car racer and sign painter.
Kathy and David had three children between them when they were first married to other people. After running away, becoming pregnant, and moving in with their kids, the couple realized they couldn’t support a seventh child.
Parents Who Adopted Her Didn’t Want Her
The actress was stunned to learn more about her adoption after the death of her adopted father. Mitzi, her godmother, talked about the day she was picked up from the hospital by her adoptive parents.
She acknowledged that when the Gilberts returned with their new baby, it came as a shock. This astonished the actress, who looked to Barbara, along with other family members, and she confessed:
“Well, we weren’t planning on adopting a kid.”
When Barbara and her husband received a call informing them that the little girl will be available, they replied they weren’t seeking for a kid. When the celebrity’s adoptive mother phoned her out-of-state spouse, he instructed her to “go get it.”
She said to the journalist that she wouldn’t subject her kids to the burden of such a dark secret.
She was taken aback to hear herself referred to as a “it,” but Barbara clarified that she hadn’t even been born yet. Later, after learning of her upcoming arrival, Barbara revealed to her that they had been attempting to conceive.
Barbara claims that although the Gilberts were undergoing fertility treatments, they had not brought up the subject of adoption until they got the call. The actress discussed the secrecy of her adoptive family in an interview from July 2020.
The Secrets of the Family
The famous person disclosed to “CBS Sunday Morning” that she learned at the age of 11 that her father had passed away due to a stroke. But she found out at 45 that he had committed suicide.
The actress concealed the secret from everyone in her life, even herself. She informed the interviewer that she would never subject her children to the harm that such deep secrets do to families.
To learn the truth about what had happened to her adopted father, the actress engaged a detective. The detective learned that the deceased World War II veteran had threatened to take his own life while receiving care from the VA and was in excruciating pain.
She fought the anguish of losing her father in this way for approximately six months after learning the truth about Paul. During that time, she was unable to eat or sleep. She has since come to terms with it, though, and now works to preserve his memory by supporting mental health awareness and suicide prevention.
On January 23, 1982, an actress was spotted in Santa Monica at the Santa Monica Bowling Alley | Source: Getty Images
The actress also accepted and forgave Barbara for her decision to conceal the truth, even though she had been angry and betrayed for a long time. The next chapter reveals the celebrity’s name and her current way of life.
Who Is the Star Who Got Abandoned and Went on to Become a Famous Actress?
Melissa Gilbert is the actress, best known for her role as Laura “Half-Pint” Ingalls Wilder on the adored television program “Little House on the Prairie,” which ran from 1974 to 1983. She published her memoir, “Back to the Prairie,” in July 2022, and she is currently spending time with her family.
The celebrity acknowledged that she is “blessed” and mentioned that she is in a different place from her deceased adoptive father. She wants Paul to have felt the happiness that comes with having grandkids and the value of having a life partner who makes you feel listened, safe, and loved.
Timothy Busfield, Melissa’s third husband, and she became grandparents to a total of eight grandchildren in May 2022. While going through his second divorce, Busfield observed the actress waiting for a buddy at an empty pub in 2012.
On June 20, 2023, in Monte-Carlo, Monaco, Melissa Gilbert and her spouse Timothy Busfield attended a photocall for the 62nd Monte Carlo TV Festival | Getty Images
In April 2013, the pair got married in an intimate ceremony in Santa Barbara, California, with Melissa donning a dress by Morgane Le Faye. When Barbara’s daughter couldn’t determine what she wanted, Barbara suggested the brand’s Santa Monica store.
She disclosed in her book “Back to the Prairie” that Busfield, dressed in a blue suit, was alone at the private event; no guests were present. After nearly a lifetime in Hollywood, the famous person had her first kid, a son named Dakota Paul Brinkman, from her first marriage to the actor Bo Brinkman.
Michael Garrett Boxleitner is Melissa’s second child, born after her marriage to Bruce Boxleitner. Along with being a father, Busfield raised three children: Wilson, Daisy, and Samuel. He and his wife currently reside peacefully in a 14-acre cottage in the Catskill Mountains of New York.
After My Brother’s Funeral, His Widow Gave Me a Letter – I Wasn’t Ready for What He’d Confessed
At my brother’s funeral, I expected sorrow and silence, not a sealed letter that would turn my world upside down. What he confessed inside rewrote everything I thought I knew about my family.
The sky was gray the morning of my brother’s funeral. The kind of gray that seeps into your bones. Cold, quiet, still.
A gloomy day at a cemetery | Source: Pexels
I stood beside my parents near the front of the small chapel. My black coat felt too tight. My shoes pinched. But I didn’t care. None of that mattered. What mattered was that Eric was gone.
People filled the seats. Some cried. Some just stared ahead. My mother sat stiff, clutching a tissue she never used. Her eyes stayed dry.
“Are you okay, Mom?” I whispered.
People at a funeral service | Source: Pexels
She nodded but didn’t look at me. “Fine, Lily. Just tired.”
She wasn’t fine. She was strange. Distant.
My dad leaned toward a cousin in the second row, whispering something I couldn’t hear. When he noticed me watching, he turned away fast.
Something felt off. Not just sadness. Something else.
A woman standing near a coffin | Source: Pexels
I kept catching them looking at me. My mom. My dad. And then looking away like they were guilty.
Eric’s widow, Laura, sat alone a few rows ahead. Her shoulders shook as she wiped her face. Real tears. Real pain. She didn’t fake it.
When the service ended, people left in twos and threes. Some hugged me. Some said nothing. I barely noticed.
A young woman at a funeral | Source: Pexels
Outside, the wind picked up. I stood by a tree near the parking lot, just needing air.
That’s when I saw Laura, walking toward me with something in her hands.
“Lily,” she said. Her voice cracked. “I need to give you this.”
“What is it?”
A woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney
She held out an envelope. My name was written on the front in Eric’s handwriting.
“He asked me to give it to you. After.”
I stared at it. “After what?”
She looked away. “After everything.”
Two women talking at a funeral | Source: Midjourney
I took it with shaking hands. The envelope felt heavier than paper should.
“Did he… say anything else?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. Just that it was important.”
I didn’t open it right away. I didn’t want to. Not yet.
A sealed letter on a table | Source: Pexels
I drove home in silence. I sat in the car for a while, staring at the envelope in my lap. My name looked strange in his writing. Like he was still here. Like he’d speak if I opened it.
But I didn’t. Not yet. My mind went back. To him. To us.
Eric was never the warm kind. No hugs. No late-night talks. He never called just to say hi.
A serious man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
But he always showed up. He came to my high school graduation. Sat in the front row, silent, hands folded.
When I was in the hospital with the flu at sixteen, he was there. Just sitting. Didn’t say much. But didn’t leave.
He was like a shadow. Always around. Never close.
Sometimes, when I looked at him, I felt something more. Like there was something he wanted to say but never did.
A serious man looking to his side | Source: Pexels
He’d glance at me, open his mouth, then close it again. Now he never would.
I walked into my house, sat at the kitchen table, and stared at the envelope one more time. Then I broke the seal.
The paper inside the envelope was folded once. It smelled faintly like him—old books and cologne. My hands shook as I opened it.
A woman opening a letter | Source: Pexels
My dearest Lily,
There’s no easy way to write this. I’ve started and stopped this letter more times than I can count. If you’re reading it, then I never found the courage to say this to your face. I’m sorry for that.
Lily… I’m not just your brother. I’m your father.
I stared at the words. My heart dropped. My stomach twisted.
A shocked woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels
I was fifteen. Young. Stupid. I fell in love with someone who got scared when she found out she was pregnant. She wanted to leave, to run. My parents stepped in. They said they’d raise you as their own—and that I could be your brother. It was supposed to protect you.
But I never stopped being your dad. Not for a single day.
Tears blurred the words. I wiped them away with the sleeve of my sweater.
A man writing a letter | Source: Pexels
I wanted to tell you every time you smiled. Every birthday. Every school play. I wanted to say, ‘That’s my girl.’ But I didn’t. Because I was a boy pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
So I watched you grow from the side. I showed up when I could. I stayed close, but never too close. That was the deal. And the older you got, the harder it got.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave. You deserved more than silence. You deserved the truth.
I love you, Lily. Always.
Love, Dad
The word Dad hit me like a wave.
A shocked woman looking at a letter | Source: Pexels
I dropped the letter and pressed my hands over my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. I cried right there at the kitchen table. Ugly, loud sobs. My chest ached. My whole life had shifted in the space of one page.
That night, I didn’t sleep.
The next morning, I drove to Laura’s house. She opened the door slowly. Her eyes were red, like mine.
A grieving woman opening the door of her house | Source: Midjourney
“You read it,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“Can I come in?”
She stepped aside. We sat in her living room in silence.
A sad woman sitting in her chair | Source: Pexels
“I didn’t know until after we got married,” she finally said. “He told me one night after a bad dream. He was shaking. I asked what was wrong, and he told me everything.”
I looked at her. “Why didn’t he ever tell me?”
Laura swallowed hard. “He wanted to. So many times. But he was scared. Scared it would break your heart. Scared you’d hate him.”
An upset woman looking down | Source: Pexels
I rubbed my hands together. “It makes sense now. All of it. The distance. The quiet way he loved me. It always felt like something was being held back.”
“He loved you more than anything, Lily. That letter tore him apart. But he made me promise—if anything ever happened to him, I had to give it to you.”
“I didn’t know him,” I whispered. “Not really.”
One woman comforting the other one | Source: Pexels
Laura reached for my hand. “You did. You just didn’t know why he was the way he was.”
I nodded slowly. A tear rolled down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away.
“I wish he’d told me sooner.”
“So did he.”
A crying woman looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
We sat quietly again. Nothing more needed to be said. But I knew what I had to do next.
I parked outside the house I grew up in. It looked the same. White shutters, neat yard, small porch. But it felt different now—like a place built on secrets.
I rang the bell. My mom opened the door, her smile ready. It dropped the second she saw my face.
A serious woman standing on the porch | Source: Midjourney
“Lily?”
“We need to talk.”
She stepped back without a word.
My dad was in the kitchen, sipping coffee. He looked up, startled.
“Hey, sweetheart—”
A mature man drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said, my voice sharper than I meant. “Why did you lie to me my whole life?”
They exchanged a look. My mom sat down. Her hands trembled.
“We didn’t lie,” she said softly. “We were trying to protect you.”
“From what? From the truth? From my own father?”
A sad mature woman | Source: Pexels
“You were a baby,” my dad said. “We thought it would be easier. Simpler.”
“For who? Me? Or you?”
My mom’s eyes filled. “We didn’t want you to feel different. Or confused. Eric was so young. He wasn’t ready.”
“He was ready,” I snapped. “He showed up for me in ways you didn’t even notice. He was there. Always. But I never got to call him Dad. Not once.”
A shouting young woman | Source: Pexels
My mother stood and tried to touch my arm. I stepped back.
“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We were scared.”
I nodded slowly. “Well, now I’m the one who’s scared. Because I don’t know who I am anymore. And I don’t know how to forgive you.”
A crying woman wiping her nose | Source: Pexels
My father set his mug down like it weighed too much. “Take all the time you need. We’ll be here.”
“I need space,” I said. “That’s all I can ask for right now.”
They didn’t argue. My mom wiped her eyes. My dad just nodded.
I walked out, the letter pressed to my chest like it was the only thing keeping me standing.
A woman walking out clutching a letter to her chest | Source: Midjourney
That night, I sat alone in my apartment, the letter open on the table again. I read it slowly, tracing the lines with my finger.
The pain was still there. But something else was too. Peace. A beginning.
I found a small frame in the back of my closet. I placed the letter inside and set it on my bookshelf.
Right in the center. Where I could see it every day.
A framed letter on a sunlit bookshelf | Source: Midjourney
He was my father. And now, I finally know.
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