March 19, 2011

Returning to life in the past lane



     January 18, 2011. The holiday season is ended, cleaned up after, recuperated from. Winter is here wearing its glorious, pure, white coat. It’s my time of year.

     My plan: write a chapter a week in my novel, Intertwined Love, set in the 1790s. Parts of many chapters are written. Now is the time to work in consecutive order. The day bodes well as the letters hit on my keyboard form words on the current chapter—three. By the end of the day my accomplishment has energized me. I retire, looking forward to completing this chapter in perhaps less than a week.


     January 19, 2011. After my morning coffee and my meds (I am a CAD, cardiac artery disease patient), I dress for work, and after spending a half-hour picking up the house, I sit down at the computer.

     A second good day. This week will lead me to chapter four next week. I have a feeling of accomplishment, a satisfied feeling of being on track.

     About seven o’clock in the evening I open my e-mail. There are three comments, one on each of three posts:

          I’m not sure HOW I found you and not sure where to write this, but PLEASE CONTACT ME. My mother is adopted, and I recently helped her get her REAL birth certificate (she was denied in earlier ears) and we JUST got her REAL birth certificate

     “Someone is spamming me,” I said to my husband, Monte, who was sitting working at his desk. I expect the next lines to read and my mother is stranded (in some remote country) and needs money to get home. Her wallet and all ids have been stolen. Send money.

     I continue reading. The message is different from what I expect. It includes my parent’s names, my mother’s former residence, and other information pertinent to our family history. Still…most of this information was publically available, most of it on my blog site ( ).

     There was a phone number. Deciding to bite, I punched the numbers into the phone. A young, female, voice answered. She was ecstatic that I’d responded.

     “I’ll e-mail you a copy of the birth certificate and a photograph immediately,” she said. She was on her way to a class—she was a grad school student in Arizona. She could send the documents through her cell phone. I was on my way to a meeting, and decided to go, even though I wanted to stay home to receive the information asap.

     Monte and I returned home. I immediately opened my e-mail and found a birth certificate from New Hampshire, issued in 1953. I was ten years old at the time.

     All the information listed on the document was accurate. I studied the certificate for a few minutes. It appeared to be authentic, legitimate. It listed both my parents on the birth certificate. It appeared that this was a full-blooded sibling.

     Still, I had my doubts. I wondered why someone would be trying to spam me. What would be their point? What could they gain? However, I knew my mother had released a child for adoption.

     Closing the document, I opened the picture. All doubt disappeared. My mother’s face looked out of the computer at me.


     January 19, 2011. I jump into a twentieth century past lane, riding it furiously for two months. The demands of this drive cause temporary abandonment of the 1790s past lane.

     I find myself informing siblings about being discovered by Darlene, emailing and phoning my new kid sister, and planning an unlikely trip to Illinois. Monte was pleased—he’d been trying to convince me to travel to Chicago so he could attend a Big Ten wrestling championship at his alma mater, Northwestern University. Who in their right mind would opt to travel to Chicago at the beginning of March? I asked him. Still, for three days, he wandered about with the grin of a Cheshire cat on his face.

     We were invited to stay at Darlene’s house. We arrived in the evening of March 2, and left early March 7. It was a delightful visit, even for our spouses. More details will be written later.


     March 19, 2011. Stepping out of the twentieth century past lane to return to the 1790s past lane.

     By now, I should be eight chapters ahead. Life, however, has a way of interfering with our plans. I would never change the activities of the last two months. Being discovered by my sister, expanding my family, and sharing lives was a valid and unusual excuse for postponing writing Intertwined Love.  I might change the fact that after both Monte and I left Chicago, we became victim to the latest flu bug. This part of the adventure was unwanted and unnecessary.  

     These past eight weeks have been an adventure many persons tell me I should be writing in a book. Maybe so. But I’m still working on chapter three of Intertwined Love. I have a lot of catching up to do.

     I wonder—is it possible to write two chapters a week?



Five States Allow Adoptees Access to Original Birth Certificates

The Rev. Manasseh Cutler Visits Peale’s Museum in Philadelphia

Adoptee Finds Biological Family: Mine

Oprah and I: Adoption Reunion Experiences



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