ADOPTION... My Story: Part 2

I've composed myself now... ready to write more. I left off telling you about receiving the first letter from my grandmother.

Her photograph was that of someone who looked like a loving grandmother. I dialed her phone number and we spoke for an hour - all the while her photo was in front of me. I had her letter in hand & asked questions. Some questions were answered, others were quickly glossed over. The questions she didn't answer were really the ones that I wanted answers for... and it was then that I figured out she must be either holding out on me until she knew that I really was okay to divulge information to or she was covering up information. During the phone call I learned that I had two half-brothers and a half-sister. Of course, they didn't know about me & she said she'd have some explaining to do. By the end of the phone call she had invited my husband & me to have Thanksgiving dinner at her home.

Within a short time I got to speak with my new sister on the phone. I exchanged letters with both my sister and grandmother waiting anxiously for Thanksgiving to arrive.

During one phone conversation with my sister I got my grandfather's address... on the condition that I would not tell our grandmother that I got it from her or that I was going to try to find him. I sent him the same generic letter I'd sent in the beginning & waited. Days passed with no letter in my mailbox. I came to the conclusion that he wanted nothing to do with me. Then on November 9 my phone rang... it was HIM! We spoke for close to two hours & really hit it off! My two half-brothers were living with him at the time and I got to know them over the phone. Soon my mailbox would be flooded with letters and old photographs from my grandfather. Weekly phonecalls became the norm.

At Thanksgiving my grandmother was a gracious hostess - she was a wonderful cook! I got to meet my sister & we hit it off! By the end of the first night we were finishing each other's sentences! We had fun looking at old photographs and I hung on my grandmother's every word - hoping for any shred of information she might share about my birthmom. The only thing she really told me was that she (my birthmom) had disappeared when she was about 26 years old (the same age I was) - leaving her three children at the daycare - just disappeared. She claimed she'd not seen my birthmom since then. Red flag!!

My grandparents had been divorced before I was even born & hadn't spoken in as many years. For this reason I felt compelled to share with my grandfather things that my grandmother had told me. I understand that divorced people don't always get along & often have different stories. My grandfather refused to say anything bad or mean about my grandmother - except that her version of the truth was pretty far-fetched!

It was obvious to me from what both grandparents told me that at the time my birthmom was pregnant with me there had been a lot of family drama as she was making what would be a life-changing & heartbreaking decision.

The summer after I had found my grandmother she came to a family reunion - that of my adoptive mother's family. She & my mom had quite a bit in common - sewing & crafts, cooking, etc.

A year after meeting my grandmother & sister I had the opportunity to meet my grandfather & his wife. He was retired Army... my own adoptive dad also an Army veteran. According to their "figuring" they missed being at the same Army base by just a couple weeks. How weird would that have been?

More phone calls, more letters, more stories. Due to the them all living far away our visits in person were few & far between. But the phone calls & letters gave me lots to think about. Lots to sort out... deciding what was truth, what was fiction.

.........

ADOPTION... MY STORY: Part 1

In July 1963 a 16 year girl made the ultimate sacrifice. Knowing she was not prepared to raise a baby she gave me up for adoption. I spent my first 5 months in a boarding home & went to live with my adoptive parents in December 1963, just two weeks before Christmas.

Growing up I was a pretty happy little girl. I grew up in a small town - a town where everyone knew everyone else, everyone knew I was adopted. I spent my growing up years having people tell me how much I looked like one or the other of my parents. NOT! Except for having blue eyes... there wasn't really any resemblance. One thing that always gnawed at me was wondering WHO I did look like. Whose nose do I have? Who did I inherit my cowlicks from? Where did I get my musical talent?

I went thru high school and onto college, got married & had three children. When I was pregnant with my third, the doctor found some pre-cancerous cells & started asking questions about whether ovarian/cervical cancer ran in my family. I told him that I had no idea... that I was adopted. He subtly suggested that if it was possible, I may want to find out. I had always dreamed of doing this so it wasn't a big surprise other than the fact that my OB/GYN suggested it!

After my baby was born I began my search. It was a pretty lame attempt (I didn't have access to the WWW!) but I really didn't know how to go about it - so I was just floundering around. Since I was born in Kansas & Kansas is an "open" state, I filled out the required form, sent a copy of my ID & some money to the Vital Statistics office hoping to receive a copy of my original birth certificate. A few weeks later I received it... along with the name of my birth mother. She, too, was born in Kansas & as a blood relative I was able to request her birth certificate which then told me the names of my maternal grandparents. Since they were all born in the same town I enlisted the help of a friend who happened to live in that town. She sent me pages out of the area phone book for people with the last names of both grandparents.

I spent several nights writing & re-writing a generic letter stating the facts I had gotten from the birth certificates & my circumstances. I went through the names on the pages from the phone book & sent a letter to every other name. Within a couple weeks I received a half dozen responses. Some said they had no idea who these people were but were supportive - wishing me good luck with my search; others condemned me for "opening a can of worms" that would ultimately cause nothing but heartbreak.

One Sunday evening in early October 1989 our phone rang. The man identified himself as my birthmother's cousin. His dad & my maternal grandmother were siblings. He had known my birthmom was pregnant but never knew what happened to the baby. He told me he had received the letter I'd written...and knew something was up because I knew too much (names, dates, etc.) so he gave the letter to his father. His father in turn contacted my grandmother.

The following week I received a large manila envelope in the mail with 13 typed pages (single space) - my first correspondence with my grandmother. It was a strange letter to read - like I was reading about complete strangers (in fact, I was!). What I got sounded much like a dimestore novel - told from the point of view of one who was on the outside looking in. She had included a photograph of herself and her phone number. Was this a hint?

(This is an emotional subject for me... and I'm going to end this writing here & continue in a day or so.)

The Loss of a Friend

We've all been there... we've all lost a friend.

I've lost friends because they moved to another town/state (before the miracle of the Internet) and we just quit writing or calling. I've lost friends because there were half-truths or blatant lies told & believed. I've lost friends because the friendship simply became toxic. I've lost friends because of death.

Most recently I lost a dear friend because someone in my household decided that it was not in my best interest to keep that friend. This hurts maybe more than any of the other reasons I mentioned - simply because I didn't make the decision, but it was made for me. I went along with this decision ONLY to keep peace in my household.

The friend of whom I speak - was a pet. Yes, a pet! I've always had a pet. I had a cat, Miss Ruffles, for 12 years. I came home from a funeral and found her dead on the living room floor. My heart broke as I buried her. Death of a pet, however, is MUCH different than being forced to give up a beloved pet. Death is final. In my case, death was not a decision I made - it just happened.

The pet I'm refering to is my dog Skeeter, a black lab of almost 3 years... I've had him for 2 years. Pets are a big responsibility. They take time & money and have to be cared for whether you're at home or traveling. He is 100 pounds of enthusiasm - who thinks he's a lap dog. Basic complaints from the other person in my household: he drinks too loudly, he eats too loudly, his nails click on the hard floors, he sheds, his food bill is too much, it costs too much to board him when we travel, etc., etc. Unfortunately his good qualities didn't outweigh the above complaints.

When I boarded Skeeter at New Years I asked the gals who work the desk at the Vet if they knew of anyone who was interested in adopting a black lab. They were surprised that I would even ask. They LOVE Skeeter and he loves them back! When I picked him up a few days later the Vet came out to speak with me. She said she knew of a family who had been looking for a black lab. They live in the country, have two young sons & a younger yellow lab that visits often. She asked if they could "borrow" Skeeter for the weekend to see if he would be a good fit for their family. He went to visit for 3 days... and when she called she told me they loved Skeeter & wanted to keep him.

I have to say, I never expected it all to happen so quickly! I told her I needed to spend more time with him... and think about it... although I knew what the answer would be in the end. I brought him home, took pictures of him, and at the end of the week I called the Vet back to let her know I'd be bringing him to her the next morning. I packed his treats, bowls, toys & blanket, put him on his leash & drove to the animal hospital. We spent some time visiting... she said she would take pictures of him & email them to me periodically and let me know how he's doing. After a while, my heart breaking even more, I finally told Skeeter I loved him, gave him one last hug, a pat on the head & rubbed his ears. With that, I turned & walked out the door. My sacrifice complete. The other person in my household finally happy.

I'm not sure what it is I'm trying to say... just that I made a sacrifice giving up Skeeter. Sometimes sacrifice is necessary. Sometimes sacrifice breaks your heart.

Blizzard: Bad!! Blizzard: Good!!

Blizzard: Bad! The Midwest is in the middle of a huge snow storm. When we left Colorado on December 21st it was a sunny day... 60 degrees when we drove thru Denver. By the time we got to Nebraska it was late in the day & it had cooled off considerably. On the drive across Nebraska on I-80 we noticed snow... lots of snow. When we got to our destination there was much more snow than we had imagined. The front yard had about a foot of the white stuff... the back door had a drift in front of it so it was not possible to open it for Skeeter to go out. Jerry has shoveled the sidewalk & driveway every day since we've been here & is growing weary of it!

Since we got here (Nebraska) it has snowed several days, the wind has blown, the sun has stayed hidden (we've seen the sun twice since December 21... for a total of maybe 4 hours!), the temperature has plummeted! We're experiencing wind chills of 30to 40 below zero... and daytime temperatures of barely above 0. A few years ago we had a winter with lots of snow & many gray days. Each day was like the one before... it never changed... the roads were icy, there was lots of snow, lots of wind, no sunshine, more gray skies. Terribly depressing. It was like living "Groundhog Day" over & over again.

We traveled to my parents' home in Kansas on January 1st... and guess what? It snowed again! My son & daughter in law were in a car accident on their way from Kansas back to Missouri on January 2nd due to the weather. We drove to my father-in-law's home in central Nebraska on January 3rd... and guess what? Not only was there more snow there than where we are... but... it snowed again!

Tonight the local news continues to tell viewers to stay off the roads due to blowing snow; school closings continue to scroll across the bottom of the television screen. The weather man referred to this weather as "cruel & unusual punishment"! Can't say that I disagree with him on that! The furnace seems to run constantly & it's set at 68*. I can only hope that "this too shall pass" and "the sun will come out tomorrow"... but I'm not holding my breath!





Blizzard: Good! Who doesn't love a Blizzard ice cream treat from DQ? Well, maybe not when it's this cold. But I'm thinking ice cream is good ANY time of year & it's one of the things I've missed having at the cabin. My favorites are German Chocolate & Pecan Cluster! I wonder if hubby would think I'm crazy if I told him I wanted a Blizzard tonite?

Stay warm everyone!

Happy New Year... A Dog's Purpose

This is an email story sent to me by a friend. If you're a dog owner/lover, you'll understand this completely! I know I love my dog, Skeeter. Read on......


''A Dog's Purpose?
(from a 6-year-old)

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.''

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.

He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?''
The Six-year-old continued,''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''



Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy..

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.


Always love your dogs as much as they love you!


Happy New Year to All
Ruff...Ruff...Ruff

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Football... :Maybe a bit irreverant: ...

Today is the day! The Nebraska Cornhuskers will show us what they're made of when they play Arizona tonite in the Pacific Life Holiday Bowl. The Huskers beat Kansas State to get the honor (?) of getting beat by Texas the following week. One of my cousins from Kansas (a K-State grad) was especially nasty prior to the NU/KSU game but was strangely quiet after we beat them. Jealousy is an ugly emotion! My son-in-law is a Texas fan (something wrong with that!). My daughter is still looking for a "House Divided" shirt (NU & Texas).

Tonight we will gather with friends in front of a big screen TV and pay homage to our beloved Huskers. Food will be brought as a sacrifice to THE BIG RED (I'm bringing my "famous" chicken wings). A baptism of sorts will be held as beer & other adult beverages are drunk. And we'll bring our foam brick with GO BIG RED written on it that we throw at the TV when the refs make a bad call. We're pretty sure that every ref in the Big 12 hates the Huskers! Blast!

The Huskers made a great comeback with Coach Bo Pelini & his staff. I guess BO does know football! This should be a fun game to watch! Last year the Huskers played in the Gator Bowl. Who knows? Maybe next year we can get to one of the "good" bowl games. Did you know there are something like 34 bowl games?

Seems like everyone wants their name splashed across the screen & on shirts & hats. Brut Sun Bowl, Chick-Fil-A Bowl, Outback Bowl, Capital One Bowl...the list goes on. Do you remember the bit Larry the Cable Guy did about Nascar sponsors?? Who wouldn't want to wear a shirt with KOTEX BOWL in big letters across the chest?

At any rate... GO BIG RED!!!!

Healthcare Reform?

I posted this back in February but thought in light of all the fuss about healthcare reform I would post this again!


My husband found this little article in the February 1947 edition of The Reader's Digest. I thought it was very interesting & worth passing along - considering this article was written more than 60 years ago! Almost Prophetic!



STAND UP AND SAY "AH"
Michael Wright in Better Homes & Gardens


This is how it is in Britain. The doctor got back to his office just at two o'clock. "How many?" he said to his nurse.
"Forty."
Casually, he put on his white jacket and poked his head into the waiting room where the 40 patients sat. "Will those of you troubled with headache please stand," he said.
Six stood. The doctor took identical printed prescriptions out of his desk and handed one to each of the six and dismissed them.
Then he said, "Will those of you troubled with a cough please stand." Another group got up, and again he handed them printed prescriptions and dismissed them.
The others he took one by one into his private office for a few minutes. Two hours later the office was empty, the 40 patients gone. This was an average of three minutes to a patient.
And that, Dr. Edward H. Ochsner of Chicago testified at the recent Wagner-Murray-Dingell bill hearings in Washington, is how it is with socialized medicine in Britain.
In Germany, where they also had a compulsory system, some doctors did even better - 30 to 40 patients in one hour.
This is how most doctors believe it will be here in America if our own womb-to-tomb compulsory health scheme becomes law.

Something to think about........