As Charles dialed my birth mother's phone number, I was kneeling on the floor, praying. "Please let her accept my call. Please let her accept me!"
My mother answered the phone call and Charles quickly told her who he was and that I had been searching for her for some time. Shirley quickly responded with, "I can't talk now. Please send me a letter and then we can talk. Please don't call again."
Charles said good-bye and hung up. Then he turned to me and told me that he had talked to my mother and she had said to send a letter and then she would talk to me. I was amped up and could do nothing but pace the floor to dispel my nervous energy. I kept saying, over and over, that I had found my mother AND my father. The Lord had answered all of my prayers and I rejoiced in His blessings. It seemed too wonderful that my search had ended with a total find.
For a week I gathered family pictures of my childhood and pictures of Charles and the children. I wrote my mother a 25 page letter and then I also made a voice tape and had each of my children speak to their grandparents and tell them how happy they were to get to know them and how they were doing in school and at church. When we had all said what was in our hearts, I sealed up the package and shipped it to my mother at her home address. Weeks passed after that, and finally, I received a letter back from my mother.
It was a short letter and came straight to the point. She addressed me as Ruby. She told me that her husband was not my father. That my father was an unknown rapist who had attacked her while she was walking home from work in Walla Walla, Washington. Her parents had sent her to San Diego to have me. She had never told anyone in her immediate family about me and she could not bear to begin to speak of it now. She asked me not to write her or to phone her; please just let her go on with her life. Then she signed it, Shirley.
I was stunned. I had expected, and hoped for, a positive letter and maybe with her saying that she loved me. Instead I read the worst possible news that my father had been a rapist and that she did not want to have contact with me. I felt rejected for the second time, but while it hurt deeply and I still cry when I let my mind go to this subject, I felt that the best gift I could give my mother was to accept what she said and to leave her alone. I wrote a short note stating that I would honor her wishes and that she should not fear me for I loved her and would protect her.
For two more years I heard nothing and I resigned myself to my fate. Then on the third Christmas after writing to her, I received a Christmas card with an update on all of her families' lives. I learned that I had one brother, and two sisters, and their names, their husband's names, and their children's names. She gave me a little flavor of their personalities, but she said nothing about herself or her husband.
The little letters came occasionally and were treasured. She let me know when her husband passed away and when she passed, my oldest sister sent me a card telling me about her passing (I think she thought that I was a distant cousin). One letter told me about her 50th wedding anniversary; one letter told me that her husband was very ill and I got a note when he had passed away.
In the meantime, my daughters had grown up and started families of their own. They were very frustrated by not knowing the health history of my mother and they felt no compunction to obey my mother's request. One day, Becky called my mother and ended up talking to her for several hours. One day when I was visiting Becky and feeling down about my mother, Becky went to the phone and called my mother, then after talking to her for a while, she handed me the phone and for a half of an hour I actually talked to my mother and had the opportunity to tell her that I loved her very much. She seemed like a gentle soul, but she seemed to be frightened by her secret and talking to me was almost more than she could handle. She had several health problems and was not feeling very well, so I only stayed on the phone for a short while. At one point my other daughter, Debby, also called my mother and talked to her for a while. I was happy that she seemed to accept her grandchildren and took it as a partial acceptance.
My mother passed away several years ago and I have wondered many times whether I should try to find my siblings and try to develop a relationship with them. What holds me back is that I would have to tell them a secret about their mother that might traumatize them, and I am not sure that I have the ethical right to disturb their lives. So, I have this letter written to them that I wrote many years ago, but I have never pursued trying to get their addresses. It is a real conundrum to me. My pain, or my siblings pain? I just can't quite justify letting my needs override theirs, so I remain silent.
I would love to hear from you on the subject of adoption. Do you have a personal story about the situation? Did you also find your mother, only to have her reject you again? Have you been able to connect with any of your birth siblings? Are you glad that you searched, despite the results?
I am very grateful for having found my mother and learning about my siblings. Even though mother did not want to have a relationship with me, at least my questions were answered and I no longer felt incomplete. I thank Heavenly Father every day for helping me to find my roots and to have had at least some contact with my birth family. Although it did not turn out how I always dreamed it would, at least I now have closure on the subject and I will see my mother when I get to heaven. I bless her for keeping me for a while and for the love that she did show to little Ruby.
As far as my adoptive parents go, they passed away, Daddy in 1991, and mom in 2000. We had all of us made our peace about my brother's and my childhood experiences and became very close with each other. Charley passed away in 1991, two weeks after Daddy died. I am alone as far as any birth or adopted family goes, but God has blessed me with a huge family of my own and I am very happy and I have been blessed with good friends who love and support me. What more can a person ask for in life?
On Monday, we will start a new subject; I am not sure at this moment what it will be about, but possibly about the progress of the new book. Outskirts Press sent me two possible covers for the book and I will share them with you at the bottom of this page. I hope you have a wonderful weekend and are able to rest and relax. Thank you so much for listening to my story about adoption, I am very happy with the adoption process even though I faced many problems with it in my life. Just think, I could have had to stay in an orphanage until I turned 18 and never known my brother, Charley, or the wonderful people I met in my adoptive families. That would have been a tragedy, from my perspective, and I would have lost out on a lot of love and joy.
___________________________________________
Choice #1:
Choice #2:
Do you have a favorite choice for the new book's cover??
My mother answered the phone call and Charles quickly told her who he was and that I had been searching for her for some time. Shirley quickly responded with, "I can't talk now. Please send me a letter and then we can talk. Please don't call again."
Charles said good-bye and hung up. Then he turned to me and told me that he had talked to my mother and she had said to send a letter and then she would talk to me. I was amped up and could do nothing but pace the floor to dispel my nervous energy. I kept saying, over and over, that I had found my mother AND my father. The Lord had answered all of my prayers and I rejoiced in His blessings. It seemed too wonderful that my search had ended with a total find.
For a week I gathered family pictures of my childhood and pictures of Charles and the children. I wrote my mother a 25 page letter and then I also made a voice tape and had each of my children speak to their grandparents and tell them how happy they were to get to know them and how they were doing in school and at church. When we had all said what was in our hearts, I sealed up the package and shipped it to my mother at her home address. Weeks passed after that, and finally, I received a letter back from my mother.
It was a short letter and came straight to the point. She addressed me as Ruby. She told me that her husband was not my father. That my father was an unknown rapist who had attacked her while she was walking home from work in Walla Walla, Washington. Her parents had sent her to San Diego to have me. She had never told anyone in her immediate family about me and she could not bear to begin to speak of it now. She asked me not to write her or to phone her; please just let her go on with her life. Then she signed it, Shirley.
I was stunned. I had expected, and hoped for, a positive letter and maybe with her saying that she loved me. Instead I read the worst possible news that my father had been a rapist and that she did not want to have contact with me. I felt rejected for the second time, but while it hurt deeply and I still cry when I let my mind go to this subject, I felt that the best gift I could give my mother was to accept what she said and to leave her alone. I wrote a short note stating that I would honor her wishes and that she should not fear me for I loved her and would protect her.
For two more years I heard nothing and I resigned myself to my fate. Then on the third Christmas after writing to her, I received a Christmas card with an update on all of her families' lives. I learned that I had one brother, and two sisters, and their names, their husband's names, and their children's names. She gave me a little flavor of their personalities, but she said nothing about herself or her husband.
The little letters came occasionally and were treasured. She let me know when her husband passed away and when she passed, my oldest sister sent me a card telling me about her passing (I think she thought that I was a distant cousin). One letter told me about her 50th wedding anniversary; one letter told me that her husband was very ill and I got a note when he had passed away.
In the meantime, my daughters had grown up and started families of their own. They were very frustrated by not knowing the health history of my mother and they felt no compunction to obey my mother's request. One day, Becky called my mother and ended up talking to her for several hours. One day when I was visiting Becky and feeling down about my mother, Becky went to the phone and called my mother, then after talking to her for a while, she handed me the phone and for a half of an hour I actually talked to my mother and had the opportunity to tell her that I loved her very much. She seemed like a gentle soul, but she seemed to be frightened by her secret and talking to me was almost more than she could handle. She had several health problems and was not feeling very well, so I only stayed on the phone for a short while. At one point my other daughter, Debby, also called my mother and talked to her for a while. I was happy that she seemed to accept her grandchildren and took it as a partial acceptance.
My mother passed away several years ago and I have wondered many times whether I should try to find my siblings and try to develop a relationship with them. What holds me back is that I would have to tell them a secret about their mother that might traumatize them, and I am not sure that I have the ethical right to disturb their lives. So, I have this letter written to them that I wrote many years ago, but I have never pursued trying to get their addresses. It is a real conundrum to me. My pain, or my siblings pain? I just can't quite justify letting my needs override theirs, so I remain silent.
I would love to hear from you on the subject of adoption. Do you have a personal story about the situation? Did you also find your mother, only to have her reject you again? Have you been able to connect with any of your birth siblings? Are you glad that you searched, despite the results?
I am very grateful for having found my mother and learning about my siblings. Even though mother did not want to have a relationship with me, at least my questions were answered and I no longer felt incomplete. I thank Heavenly Father every day for helping me to find my roots and to have had at least some contact with my birth family. Although it did not turn out how I always dreamed it would, at least I now have closure on the subject and I will see my mother when I get to heaven. I bless her for keeping me for a while and for the love that she did show to little Ruby.
As far as my adoptive parents go, they passed away, Daddy in 1991, and mom in 2000. We had all of us made our peace about my brother's and my childhood experiences and became very close with each other. Charley passed away in 1991, two weeks after Daddy died. I am alone as far as any birth or adopted family goes, but God has blessed me with a huge family of my own and I am very happy and I have been blessed with good friends who love and support me. What more can a person ask for in life?
On Monday, we will start a new subject; I am not sure at this moment what it will be about, but possibly about the progress of the new book. Outskirts Press sent me two possible covers for the book and I will share them with you at the bottom of this page. I hope you have a wonderful weekend and are able to rest and relax. Thank you so much for listening to my story about adoption, I am very happy with the adoption process even though I faced many problems with it in my life. Just think, I could have had to stay in an orphanage until I turned 18 and never known my brother, Charley, or the wonderful people I met in my adoptive families. That would have been a tragedy, from my perspective, and I would have lost out on a lot of love and joy.
___________________________________________
Choice #1:
Choice #2:
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