Sorry I couldn’t post yesterday for the challenge, but it was a sacrifice that had to be made. I have assignments due every Thursday, Sunday and Monday for school, and this week is really tough.
Well, this ought to be easy…but it’s not! There are so many people and things I could talk about that I could write a book! Actually, I am hoping to write a book someday, which is partially why I’m getting a Bachelor’s in English.
Okay, I’m going to talk about my parents as I have a pretty unique family history concerning parents.
I was born to a 15-year-old girl and a 21-year-old man in March of 1972. My mother took off with me just before my first Christmas, and my father had no idea where we had gone.
After trying to care for me as a single mother for 2 1/2 years, my birth mother put me up for adoption in 1974, and I began living with my aunt and grandmother in their apartment in West Roxbury, MA. My aunt decided that she would be the person to adopt me. One day, when she was chasing me around the apartment complex’s swimming pool, a nice young man asked my aunt if she needed help – I actually remember that day. They were married within months. When my aunt discovered that she was pregnant, she became desperate to have my adoption final, as she wanted me to be legally her daughter before the baby was born. When we were in court to finalize my adoption, my soon-to-be baby sister dropped in my mother’s belly. (from this point forward, I will refer to my adopted mother as my mother, as this is what I have always called her. I called my birth mother by her first name.)
We lived in a nice 3-bedroom house in Massachusetts and had the “white picket fence” everyone dreams about. My sister and I weren’t spoiled, but if there was something we didn’t have, we couldn’t have named it. When I was 10, we were all in the car with my father driving. All I remember is that he swerved for a reason that none of us could see, and we immediately went home. Mum said she had to take him to the store or something silly, and as soon as my aunt arrived, she and my dad quickly left the house. I remember thinking that something was funny…I had seen them in a hurry before, but never with the desperation that I was sensing from my mom that day. When she got back, my mother announced that dad had to leave town for a few days on business, and that he’d be back soon. In reality, he was at the hospital having tests done. When he came home, they announced that he had a brain tumor, and that he was going to get sick, but that they were looking in to all kinds of treatments. They sat my sister and I down again a few months later and informed us that the tumor would eventually kill him. He passed when I was 16. We lost my mother’s father and one of her brothers the same year.
Fast forward 12 years, and I’m 28-years-old, and getting married. My mother re-married a month after my wedding, and suddenly I found myself as an adult with a new step-father, but also two step-sisters and a step-brother.
Go forward another 7 years. I’m 35, and my birth mother has passed away. I knew her my entire life, and felt extremely bad about the fact that we weren’t closer as I grew into adulthood like we were up until I was around 15. I was devastated because she never got to see my son Connor, and he was only 1-year-old when she died. Shortly after her death, I received a call from New Hampshire…it was my birth father. I was so nervous about speaking to him that I was literally shaking. He asked if he could fly down (he has his own small airplane!), and meet me at a coffee shop at the small airport near our house. I agreed.
He brought his wife with him, and it turned out he had been looking for me for 35 years, and saw my name in my birth mother’s obituary! He married his wife in 1976, after telling her about me, and she had been helping him search for me the entire time. They are two of the nicest people you could ever meet. He informed me that I have a half-sister as well (who is also as sweet as pie!).
So, there you have it. I have two sets of parents including my mother, step-father, birth father and his wife. I also have a sister, half-sister, two step-sisters and their two husbands, and a step-brother and his wife. Between the eleven of us, there are ten children. I have two sons, five nephews, and three nieces.
Bet you didn’t have any idea how interesting my family is! I’m not going to say we don’t have our problems, as we have more than our share. But, I do think my sons are two of the luckiest kids in the world with three sets of grandparents!