Mountain Meetup

As I got to know John a little better, he mentioned that he was planning on coming to Colorado for a visit soon, and wondered if I'd like to meet.  I immediately agreed and we began trying to arrange it.  He added that one of the other siblings might be able to join us and we tried to plan a spot that would be a half way point for us.

As the day got closer and I began watching the weather reports, I started to feel a little nervous since this would be mountain driving and maneuvering in snow isn't exactly my strong suit. At some point, I think my husband decided that he would offer to go along---not just because of the weather, but because he felt it might be irresponsible of him to allow his wife to meet two total strangers in an unfamiliar town....as it turns out, I think he just ended up enjoying having more people to discuss cars with.  His wife isn't exactly impressed with horsepower.

We woke up early that morning and drove to Breckenridge---a small ski resort town.  We located the restaurant we had agreed to meet at for lunch, and I brought along my "father folder"---the folder of info I had compiled about my birthfather:  photos, newspaper articles, etc., and info about all the siblings as well.  I guess I wanted to show them that I really HAD done my research and that this wasn't just a shot in the dark. I suspect it just looked like I was obsessive and possibly a maniac.

When we walked into the restaurant, it was mostly empty---but I spotted John at a table, with not just one other person, but TWO.  Not only did he bring Jeff, but Jeff's twin brother John (yes, there are two brothers with the name John----which is their father's name.  I feel like he must have been oddly proud of it)
I was beyond thrilled that I was actually getting to meet THREE siblings at once, and probably overwhelmed them with my hugs and giggling like an idiot.

We spent a nice couple of hours eating, laughing and sharing stories.  I learned little things about my birthfather that I never would have known otherwise---he loved to eat at Chili's and was well known there; he once owned a drapery business; he had been a spy in the US army.  I was amazed at how relaxed I felt with them and how welcoming all three of them were towards me.

When it was time to go, little brother John suggested that we get shirts from the restaurant, his treat, and wear them in a photo together to send to the other siblings who couldn't be there.  He also bought shirts for them as well, and we made plans to have a family get together later in the summer where we could all wear the shirts together.  It was such a sweet gesture and honestly one of my favorite pictures I've even been in.

Scott and I headed for home and the whole way, all I could think about was how 4 years previously, I had almost completely given up on EVER knowing anything about anyone from my bloodlines.  It felt like road block after road block. Dead ends everywhere I looked.  Even the law wasn't on my side. 

Yet there I was--4 years later--I knew EVERYONE'S name.  I knew what they looked like, sounded like, life stories, things I could never previously have dreamed of.

Through all of this, I've wondered:  Why couldn't this have happened sooner?  Why couldn't I have learned all of this when I was 30 and first searching, when my birthfather was still alive, my grandparents would still be here to ask those clarifying questions.  I don't know I will ever know the answer to that.  But I do think that if I had received all of this when I was younger, its possible I wouldn't have been mature enough to appreciate it the way I do now, especially after having to work for it the way I did.  Maybe my siblings wouldn't have been at a place where they could have welcomed me so easily. Its hard to know for certain.  But I believe God's timing is perfect. I've seen it time and time again in my life, and the lives of those I love.  Its hard to see sometimes, especially when you're in the middle of it, and wondering why you can't just have what you want RIGHT NOW.

How blessed I feel to finally have what I searched for, as well as everything that was lovingly handed to me the day I was adopted. It's the best of both worlds.

It's good to be me.

Surprise!

In my search for my paternal siblings on social media, I noticed that the youngest brother--John--had his Facebook profile settings so that you could "follow" his posts without actually sending him a friend request.  I looked to see how many "followers" he had, and since there were almost 200, I felt it was safe to follow along as well.  He would never notice. And for about a year, he didn't.  He would post things, and occasionally I would "like" it, especially if it had to do with his dad (visiting his grave or posting old photos).  I never gave it much thought and felt I had the best of both worlds by being able to keep up with him without ever having to reveal any information.  Slightly "stalkerish" I suppose, but its not like I was camping outside his house with binoculars.

Then one day, I got a message request from him.  I stared at it in horror.  I opened the message and read "Hi Crista--not trying to be awkward but I've noticed you liking a lot of my posts and we aren't friends on FB, How do we know each other?"

In a panic, I texted my friend Sherri who had been so instrumental in my birthfamily search.  "WHAT DO I DO, WHAT DO I DOOOOOO???"  As we discussed it, she asked if I thought I'd be okay emotionally if he either didn't believe what I told him or didn't want anything to do with me.  I thought I would be, but there was really only one way to know for sure.  We agreed that if I could go into it with no expectations, that I should go ahead and tell him the truth. 

And I did.  Waiting for him to respond afterwards was pure torture.

Once again, I found myself shocked by how easily I was accepted.  Not just by him, but one by one, as they all learned about me, the remaining 5.  Within 2 weeks, I had received friend requests from all six siblings, spoken with 3 of them on the phone, and all but one in text or email.  One of my favorite parts of all of this was finding out John originally reached out to me because he thought I was "interested" in him....I like to tease him that he almost tried to ask his sister out on a date.

How amazing that even though my birthfather tried to keep me a secret (and most likely would not have been open to knowing me if he were still alive), life had other plans.  His children are kind, loving, and completely open to accepting me into their tribe. 

I think I was as surprised as they were.

Picture it......Sicily

One of the things Don and I have enjoyed discussing over the years has been genealogy, and I like to think that it was my appearance in his life that actually got him into searching.   As we both created our family trees on Ancestry, we would compare notes about what names we had found.  In one of our conversations, we talked about a common DNA match we had, that seemed to be a rather close relative, but that neither of us could place in the family tree.  I had reached out to the owner of the account with questions, but he explained that the DNA was actually his wife's, that she rarely looked at the account and that he couldn't be of much help.  I think Don and I tried for quite some time to decipher it on our own, until I finally decided to reach out to Priscilla Sharp again and ask for her assistance.  I don't think Don or I were the least bit prepared for what we would learn.

As it turns out, Priscilla's research led her to conclude that the people who Mary had grown up with and had known as her parents all her life, were NOT, in fact, her biological parents at all.  Mary had been adopted, and this "close mystery match" that we could not figure out-----it was Mary's half sister.  From what Priscilla had been able to deduct, a young woman named Thresa from a Croatian immigrant family, had been involved with a young Sicilian man named Tony.  When Thresa ended up pregnant, it was either the families disapproval of the union, or the reluctance of the two young people themselves to marry, and from what we can conclude, the baby---Mary--was "given" to the couple that Mary grew up with and knew as her parents.  In researching historical documents, Don pieced together that all the involved families lived only blocks from each other and were probably quite familiar. There seems to be no "documentation" of the adoption so we suspect that the baby was just handed over.  All the pieces fell into place even further when Don and I located pictures of Thresa and Mary's new 1/2 sister Rachel, and saw the obvious resemblances.  After I was finally able to make contact with Rachel and explain what we had discovered, she was initially surprised but admitted that her mother Thresa---who had passed away several years previously--must have had a life before her marriage to Rachel's father, and that she hadn't shared anything about it, except to say once that she had been in love with a "soldier boy" when she was young, but never heard from him again after the war.

Tony's records show that he enlisted in the army just months before Mary was born.

Sadly, none of the involved parties are still living, so we will never know exactly how it all played out.  But after years of me wondering why I tan so well for being British and Irish, it makes much more sense knowing that I am almost a quarter Sicilian.

Don

Over the past 4 years, I have continued to enjoy my relationship with my maternal siblings through emails, phone calls, and social media.  Because Ava and I live in the same state, meeting in person was simple enough to arrange, but with Ron and Don both living 3 states away from me in both directions, I didn't see any possibility of meeting them in person in the near future.  But during one email exchange, Don informed me that he had a weekend trip to Colorado planned down the road for a Spartan race he was planning on participating in.

**Side note:  Whatever gene it is that causes people to want to run for enjoyment---I didn't get that.**

Don's race was scheduled to be held about 2 1/2 hours from me, and my original plan was to drive there and cheer him on, and possibly have dinner together afterwards.  But after discussing the logistics---no place for me to really "watch" the race except the starting or finish line, his exhaustion afterwards not lending itself to good dinner conversation, etc....he decided that he would drive to meet me the day before the race, and he and I would go out to dinner here and spend time visiting.

When the day finally arrived,  I was giddy.  My meeting with big sister Ava had been incredibly sweet, but I had been a little nervous since we had only been in communication a short time beforehand. In contrast, Don and I had been chatting for over 3 years, and had quite a foundation.  I wasn't nervous at all. I felt like one of my oldest friends was coming to visit.  He gave me a big bear hug and we spent the afternoon visiting at my home, running by my parents house so they could meet him as well, and then laughing over dinner.

When it was time for him to head out, my husband took a photo of us together, and I got a little teared up as we hugged goodbye.  Its hard to express how surreal it is to have a birthmother that literally wants no contact with you, yet her children accept you unconditionally as their sibling.  Its honestly more than I could have hoped for.

Two down, one to go!
Right?

Finding My Father

I'll admit I hadn't given him a lot of mind space.  Mary had called him "unkind" in the letters she had written me, and it was my understanding that he had learned she was pregnant with me, but chose to go back to his wife and children.  That only led me to believe that his desire to be "found" was zero and my chance of being welcomed with open arms was even less than that. Given the rejection I had received from her, and the amount of time it had taken for me to recover from the hurt, I had decided I wasn't up for further disappointment. I tried to make my peace with the fact that my paternal line would always be a mystery to me--a withheld name on a birth certificate and people who would undoubtedly reject me anyway.

But DNA is an interesting thing. It can call to you and sometimes overrule your common sense.  The need to know answers can be a powerful force for many adoptees.  It isn't a need to "replace" what we know and love, but to find the pieces that everyone around us already have and sometimes take for granted: "Where did I get my green eyes from?  How many children did my grand parents have?  Where did their families immigrate from?"  Until I knew my birthfather's information, I would never have the complete story, and unfinished business can keep you awake at night.

Of all my SAT scores, science was my lowest, by far.  I mention that because as I started to research my DNA results on Ancestry, I felt like I was reading Chinese.  My good friend Sherri, who had been instrumental in my searches and emotional support, would try repeatedly to help me understand it all but I could never quite grasp it.  My eyes would glaze over and I felt like someone was trying to teach me quantum physics.

Eventually I became aware of a woman named Priscilla Sharp who was considered a "search angel"--a person who has a desire to help adoptees find biological relatives, without any charges for their time.  Priscilla had a very firm grasp on DNA and when I contacted her to request her help, she and I spent several months going back and forth, discussing what matches I had, and piecing them together.  She did all of the work, and when she finally found a match that was close enough to send her in the right direction, I was astonished at how quickly she was able to "deduct" with almost 99% certainty, who my birthfather was.

I received the email from her on August 11th 2018.  My father's name was John.....and he passed away in 2006.

The next several months were spent scouring the internet for pictures and any information I could find.  I immediately located all 6 of his children on social media, and took enormous delight in finding similarities between them, me, and my own children.  I learned that my father's parents were from Ireland and Sweden, and that he had actually been married twice, having 2 children after me, as well as the four before me. (Ill admit I wasn't quite sure how I felt about no longer being the baby of the family---I had grown attached to the title.)

I spent many nights at the computer trying to find a "young" photo of him and when I finally found it---I saw my eyes, and a young man who looked full of hope for his future. I dont remember feeling sad that he was no longer living--I think I had long suspected he had already passed away--but I WAS disappointed to think I had 6 new half siblings that I would never know, because I had made the executive decision not to contact them. Their father was gone, and I would not be the one to reveal his "secret" to them.

But as it usually does, life had much bigger plans in store.