Family ties. . . an adoption story

Home | Thoughts | THE STORY | Story continued | Ties | A few pictures | My mom | Daily Journal News | My father | More siblings. | Family Photo Album | My Aunt Janet. . . | Uncle Obie and Aunt Mae | More Paternal Family Pictures | Cousin Tim Sturgill | Contact Me | Adoptees Seeking Heritage | More searches | The Final Chapter | My grandson. | Granddaughter

                          Adoption Statistic:
100% of adult adoptees found by birthparents wanted to be      found.
93% of adoptees were pleased with the outcomes of their reunion.


This picture is of my 2 brother's, their children with mom and I in the middle.
(Bet you can't tell which is me and which is my mom!)

I guess I should start at the beginning.

It was no secret that I was adopted. I was told my whole life. My adoptive parents made it sound like they went to a baby super market and picked me out among lots of other babies. It was also no secret that my AF burned my adoption papers since they had my BM's name on them.

To try to make a very long story short, I didn't even have my BM's name. So, me trying to search was all the more difficult. If it hadn't been for my sister, Denise, being 10 months older than me, I still wouldn't know anything.
She knew about me and was looking for me, and I was looking for my BP's.
I was posted on PBN reunion and Denise called them and found more info out on me. (To go to PBN's Website, please click on link at top of page.)

We had to confirm the info by Aunt Lyndall, and my BM called me Nov 3, 2000. We spoke for an hour and a half.
The neatest part is I mailed mom a letter on Wednesday, per suggestions from the husband. I told him she was coming for Thanksgiving and I would try to hook up with her then. He told me that was the more reason for me to write her. Anyway, When she called, I asked her if she got my letter, she replied "no", and I couldn't stop crying. I kept screaming, "It's my mom! It's my mom!"
The rest is a dream come true, the reason for the pictures.

Mom and Jimmy did make it home for Thanksgiving. My son wanted to get his grandmother long stem red roses to greet her with at the airport. I granted his wishes, I mean, how could I say no to that. He is 11 and has never had a grandmother on my side of the family. My adoptive mom passed away when I was 11.
 My "baby" brother, Bo, couldn't make it for Thanksgiving, but we called him to let him know that we were thinking of him, loved and missed him. This was our very first thanksgiving together. It was wonderful! Mom had me say grace before we ate and I just about broke down and cried again. But, if course, now they are tears of joy.

When my son and I had to take them back to the airport, of course, yes, lots of tears. My brother Jimmy, told my son, Johnny, that rain coats would have been more appropriate with all the tears that mom and I were sheading. Well, I am 36 years YOUNG, and have only seen my mother 2 times in my entire life. I guess I have the right to cry. My son even cried when they loaded the plane. He said, "why couldn't their plane be delayed? why?! why did they have to leave?!" It was cute but heart breaking at the same time. The first time my son ever met his grandmother and yet they bonded so quickly.

I do need to add that my adoptive parents did the best job they knew how. I didn't want for anything.  My AF was a bit on the "cold" side. BUT, I found out why. It was AFTER meeting a cousin that my adoptive aunt had put up for adoption at age 18.
No one knew about her. Her name is Nancy, she is 62 years young, and a complete doll. She looks like an exact double of my Aunt Tony.
Anyway, on her adoption records, it had the way my adoptive father was raised. The welfare dept. just about took my AF and his 2 brothers away from my grandparent Reimers. Long story there also. But, he did love me, in his own special way. He apologized for everything on his death bed. That meant everything to me.
See, when I got saved, and dedicated my life to the Lord, that is when I forgave my AF for the way things were. If it wasn't for the Lord. . . .

I am so blessed. So complete now. Not the empty shell I was.