Season 2: The Show Goes On

 

 




  It's good to be back. I've gone through some major life changes which pulled away from my blog for a while. I look forward to sharing some of those things here with those who will journey with me. If you're here, thank you. I appreciate that I can share my story with you. I titled it "Season 2", because a new reader said that it's like a television show. They're just joining me on my journey, so they are going to binge read "Season 1". I love that! So here goes Season 2....

  I was really careful after excavating the information about the incest. At this point, I approached my new found family members with caution. I sensed that my search was making others uncomfortable. This discomfort became glaringly obvious. Cousin Chloe texted me one day to ask me what high school I'd attended, and what was my maiden name. When I asked her why, she said that some of the younger family members felt that they may have gone to high school with me. She assured me that she was inquiring of this information in order to aid me in my search. That was a read flag to me. Something in me was like "This does not sound or feel right."None of this information would help her further my search. It was just more honey for the hive, more buzz for the bees. My biological parents would not have known what high school I'd attended, and they probably didn't know my adoptive parents either. I also couldn't figure out how anyone that went to high school with me would have been helpful to my process. I look back now, and giving her the information may have been harmless. But, at the time, it gave me pause. It gave me more than pause, it put me on alarm. Some of us adoptees can be quite afraid of anybody getting too close. I realized I was deeply afraid of someone traumatically altering my life again. Now this may seem extreme, but it was my fear at the time. So, I declined to give her the information, and then her end went silent. She would not say a word. I called and she would not answer the phone. I left her a message asking if we could talk. I was hoping that we could talk rather than text about such a heavy subject. But, we did not connect, and there I stood at a crossroads.
   I was hurt and disappointed. I was holding my search like a fragile glass menagerie. And, I had to decide if I was going to continue on, or slam it down and walk away from the entire process. I determined that my interaction with Chloe was but a lesson. She'd connected me with other helpful family members, and for that I was grateful. I allowed myself to feel the slight. I'd been reeled in to sharing something so personal with a complete stranger, and then she dropped me. However, I was not going to be deterred. As my elders would say "One monkey don't stop no show."

Interlacing Branches

Shit happens. No really, it does. And sometimes, it happens before you are even born.

 We couldn't hit the damn bulls eye, because everyone was dancing around a long held secret like an amateur boxer in the ring with Muhammad Ali. Think about this as you read. I was being blocked from my goal because someone was guarding a secret that was over 80 years old! My tree was not making sense to me because there was this strange entanglement that had to be figured out. I was going in circles. With the help of my friend Lorena, I had several hunches. But, before I could nail down a hunch, someone told the truth.
 LeRoy's wife commandeered the phone one day to let me know that there had been incest in the family. I wrote that last sentence like a hostile take over, but really she was quite tactful in her delivery. She relieved my confusion. A half bother and a half sister had a child together. Some of the family seemed to still carry that shame. It broke my heart that there still seemed to be guilt and shame lingering around. The half siblings went on to have other children by other people outside of the Blair family bloodline. My response was this: "Thank you for telling me, because this family tree was giving me a fit! And, we didn't have anything to do with that. It happened. We're here. Let's move forward. We have no need of carrying guilt or shame." I never fully estimated all that I would dig up when I embarked on this journey. And, I realize that keeping that incident hidden was not done in an effort to thwart my search. It just made it difficult for a time. They are my ancestors and that fact remains. Every one of their descendants can be free if they so choose...

All The Buzz

At the time that I messaged LeRoy and his daughter, I'd also messaged another woman who I thought may be a relative as well. Chloe lives in South Carolina, and she carries the last name of one of the ancestors on my tree, one of LeRoy's aunts. Chloe also responded to me via Facebook messaging. She came across warmhearted and friendly. She said that LeRoy's aunt was her great grandmother. I was thrilled. I'd found another cousin, even though I didn't know how. She then procured the help of other family members. I've got to say, that at this point she was treating me like a lost puppy that needed a home. That's how I felt. It was strange and demeaning. Perhaps I was misinterpreting her sympathy.
 Chloe enlisted the help of her former NFL player brother, Greg. They seemed like a well-meaning team. They even involved LeRoy in their search, as he is the senior statesman and could recall the year and time in which I was conceived and born. My name was buzzing all through the family. I'd become a "tea time" conversation. And, everyone wanted to know "which family member would do such a thing?!" (Insert the tone of someone disowning their sweet puppy. Ugh.). During the next two weeks following the 4th of July I was on conference calls with LeRoy, Chloe, Greg, LeRoy's daughter, and Bobby (The family historian of this group of branches). We were going in circles. We could not nail the bull's eye. We were having a hard time figuring out if they were related to me through my biological mother or my biological father.  I felt so close and yet so freaking far. And then, things got weird...
 As we were struggling with figuring out how I was related to them, I was getting confused by my family tree. There were some baffling relationships. They'd be hard to explain here without confusing you into tears. The more I continued to work on my family tree, the more it resembled a tangled ball of yarn. My new team knew something that I was not privy to. Unbeknownst to me, I'd walked into the midst of a deep family secret...

$2.95

 One Sunday morning at the end of June right before the 4th of July, I woke up super early with a determination so strong that I could not go back to sleep. I searched for Darcelle's great aunt on google, and I found her obituary.  In order to view the full obituary and guestbook, I had to pay $2.95 for 24 hours of access. I only needed about 30 minutes. In that half hour I studied this woman's beautiful and jovial face. I was searching for a sense of biological connection. What was so wild was that she attended a church called Silver Mount Baptist Church where she was a faithful member of the choir for umpteen (or even a few centennials) years. When I was a child, my adoptive mother took me to their mass choir's anniversary/concert every year. I sat right there listening to my relative sing. It was such a weird feeling to know that I'd been around my biological relatives on several occasions, and I didn't even know it. A brief sensation of loss brushed up against my heart. I went on to view the guest book. It was signed twice by a woman that seemed to be her daughter, and yet her words read like a granddaughter raised by her grandmother. It was heartbreaking to read of her loss. Her grieving mingled with mine had me sitting in the middle of my bed holding my bank card in one hand, and a pen and paper in the other while I cried silent tears. After 30 minutes I found myself afraid to close the obituary. Afraid to let go, and lose all the information...forever. I was holding on to every little bit that I obtained. It took just a little faith to close down that website and trust that there would be more. But, before I let go, I discovered the son's name. Leroy. They were definitely the people that Darcelle had talked about. I then turned to my trusted friend, Facebook, for more information. I messaged Leroy and his daughter. About two days later, his daughter responded...
 At first glance, she said that she thought that I was someone who was trying to sell her something. (Immediately I thought "I have got to change the cheesiness of my opening sentence.".) But then, something told her to open the message and read it. Through empathy and compassion she was able to see that my message was real, and that I was asking for her help. She instantly welcomed me to the family. She sent me her phone number, and we connected on the morning of the 4th of July. Everything in me was going off like fireworks. I knew that I was close. It was like circling the perimeter of this major thing. She assured me that she would be seeing her father, LeRoy, and that she would talk to him about me. She also said that she would speak to another family member that was quite knowledgeable with the family tree. I was so excited and so nervous. Impatience started tapping me on the shoulder. I wanted the answers last year! We hung up, and I waited...

The Thigh Bone's Connected to the Knee Bone...

 I was on a mission to continue filling in the Blair side of my growing family tree. I contacted my 3rd cousin match Avarisse via Ancestry messaging. She promptly and kindly responded to me. Her message reads as follows:

I will help you as much as I can remember. I believe my paternal grandparents are Israel and Daisey but I don't remember anything about them. My dad was one of their sons, Woodrow. I will call you this evening. Happy first day of Summer.






 Avarisse also has a sister named Darcelle. She felt that Darcelle had more knowledge of family relations, names, dates, times, places, births, and deaths. Darcelle is the historian in that part of the family. Both of these darling sisters were so open to helping me. Most importantly, they embraced me as family, and I embraced them as well. Darcelle went to work recalling all of the dispersed family members that lived in Charlotte during the time of my conception and birth. We were hot on a trail. There was just one very large problem. Our family tree had lots of severed branches. This broke my heart. The ways in which I'd imagined my biological family to be, were starting to crumble. While this reality was sad to me, it was color splashed on a blank page. It was truth and identities. There were first and second cousins that did not know each other. Hell, I'm someone's daughter, sibling, niece, and aunt, and we did not know each other due to the separation of adoption.
 Avarisse's and Darcelle's father was a Blair through his mother. Darcelle told me about some relatives that her late father once spoke of. It was a family of  eleven or thirteen children. Darcelle couldn't remember the exact number. She'd never met them, but she'd heard of them. They all lived in Charlotte among other relatives. She knew that they were her cousins, but she didn't know how. She recalled her father saying how they lived in some apartments in the south side of Charlotte  I was hoping against all hope that the family with eleven or more children was not my immediate part of the family. Researching a tree made of so many offspring was a mofo. No thank you. The only Blair that Darcelle could recall was a great aunt of hers. She knew that her great aunt had died some time in the recent past. This great aunt had a son, and the son had a daughter. She could remember the great aunt's name, but had trouble recalling her son's name. All that she could remember is that his name started with an L...

Special Link

 I couldn't stay down forever. It was time to stand up for another round. In all my fragility and the strength that only God gives, I planted both feet on the path of my search and I moved forward. Dee, the confidential intermediary, had not contacted me in a while. I called to let her know about Kevin Sr and the paternity test results, and she let me know that she would continue searching for my biological parents. June 2016 carried heavy days of exhaustive waiting. I was at a rest stop with my family tree. I just didn't know which branch to follow, until a 3rd cousin match appeared. Her name is Avarisse.
  On Father's Day weekend of June 2016, she showed up as my relative match on Ancestry.
 Up until my meeting Kevin, I was working on my family tree with very little progress. It's incredibly difficult to fill in a family tree when one does not know their biological parents and grandparents. But, it can be done. It's not impossible. When Avarisse came along, she was like that missing puzzle piece. She was that glorious part that connected all the others (At the time, I had two other close cousins that I knew were related, but I did not know what branch of my tree that they were on. I'd mirrored a tree from the tree of one of these close cousins. Avarisse turned out to be related to both of these cousins. She also had a small public family tree.). Through her I was able to see a definite bloodline.
  It was beyond the value of gold. I now had a treasure that I'd opined for. A family name. Blair. In the moment that I was blessed with the clarity to connect the dots, my past, present, and future came together in this magnificent collision. Names that I'd filled in on my tree now had a significance to me. I was beginning to understand their relationship to me. I melted into the ugliest and most beautiful sob that my entire being could let loose. I cried  for generations past, present, and future. I could feel the relief of my soul. I released a pain held so deeply that I could feel blood coursing through my veins. It took my breath away and yet filled me with fresh life. My spot was marked. I belonged to the Blair family line. Now it was time to see how...

Cracked: Glorious Light Coming Through

 The paternity test results was a devastating reality. And, meeting Kevin Sr. and his family was an immense gift. I wanted DNA to connect me, Kevin, and his children. After all, finding blood relatives was the soul purpose of my search. But, the news of  a biological connection was a fate that did not belong to us. And yet, we were connected in growing affection and budding friendships. It hurt. The sting came as a result of my crushed expectations and hopes. Many who counsel in the way of adoption searches and reunions tell adoptees to be open and devoid of expectations. I don't know how the heck they do that! Humanness can be a dry cup thirsty for the filling of hopes, dreams, and expectations. One can't help but to let a few drops seep in. It was exhilarating and fulfilling. We come in touch with new space, new lives, and new experiences. The breadth and depth of our love had expanded. Life had a brilliant novelty and a crushing force.
  I felt like a fighter who was down, but not out. But, I most certainly was down. Kevin Sr. expressed a disappointment that warmed my heart and caused it to break all at once. His children were more than ready to keep dancing in this circle of love, family, and friendship. The tone of their voices gave way to sadness, but the expressions of their hearts were love and acceptance. They gently declared that they'd still have me as their sister, and the test results did not change that. Once again my heart hummed sweetly in gratitude as it was shrieking in pain. My heart was full of joy and pain. This soulful dichotomy was like that of a cracked windshield. I was breaking. One light tap and I was sure to shatter....

The Tribe

 Kevin Jr. broke the ice. He was that arm that reached through all of my nervous wondering, and firmly grasped my hand. His curious and kind welcome walked me into this amazing circle of siblings. When Kevin Jr. opened the door, then Yalonda and Latoya called.  Before we could get test results back, they'd received me as their sister. They had this beautiful way about them that was new and refreshing to me. I felt like I'd joined this tribal dance at an open part of the circle, and we just kept moving. Our hearts felt like old friends. Their brand of love was like, "Come on in, fix a plate, sit down, and eat. Stay for a while.".
 They were hilarious and honest. They were one likable bunch. We were interacting as siblings. This scared me. I didn't want what I desired to be true to get in the way of what was actually true. I did not want my hopes and dreams to be shattered. I did not want Kevin Sr. and his children to be disappointed if he turned out not to be my biological father. This situation had me in emotional limbo. I desperately wanted the hardcore evidence of the test results, but I also wanted to know and believe that I'd found my biological father and siblings.  Their grip on reality was sobering to me. It pulled me away from the siren call of the ghost kingdom and grounded me in a loving reality. This was a possibility. I look back realizing that DNA, paternity tests, and percentages do not define family. Love does. Connection does. One does not have to do a back breaking limbo underneath the offer of love. Stand up straight and receive this beautiful gift in many forms.
 For the next three weeks, we worked towards getting to know one another. It was a time that I reflect on in great fondness. While attachment grew, so did impatience. Waiting on those test results was like dragging around some lifeless body. I'd tell myself that it was heavy, and that worrying was pointless. The facts were the facts. The truth was already in existence. We could not alter our DNA based on wants and desires. On June 1, 2016, the results were in... Kevin Sr. was NOT my father...

Waiting

 Meeting Diane was akin to finding a treasure trove. I relive that day over and over in my mind. My hands smooth lovingly over the mementos that she gave me, and I smile with gratitude. I know that her prayers and well wishes have helped to carry me on along my journey.
 With meeting Diane, Kevin and the paternity test were doing the do-si-do in my mind. On the weekend that I met Diane, one of Kevin's daughters was graduating from college as a nurse. I was thrilled to hear of such an awesome achievement. I think that nurses possess a special gifting. But, I also felt a sadness. I could possibly be missing a milestone in my potential sister's life. It was hard as hell not to jump the gun. As an adoptee, I'd visited the "ghost kingdom"* often, and now I was on my journey to truth. I continually battled to stay in the moment and focus on reality. It was like holding back a tsunami.  I did not want to overwhelm Kevin's family. I was trying not to overwhelm myself. I didn't want to reach out to his adult children until he had a chance to speak with them about me. My stomach was twisted in all kinds of knots. I wondered and I waited. I wondered how his children would feel about possibly having another sibling. How would this affect them? What would they think of their father? What would they think of me? I was secretly hoping to get a little peek inside the sibling circle. And, that's just what I got.
 Kevin Jr. messaged me through my trusted pal, Facebook. It went like this:

Heyyyyyy soooooo I have something to talk with you about ...

I know this is odd.

When I read his message I just stared at it. I was so grateful that he reached out to me. I just didn't know where his message was leading. Embracing the unknown would become a learned skill. The message was somewhat ambiguous to me. My prayer for a peek had been answered, but the mysteriousness was driving me crazy. I then proceeded to pepper my husband with all of my nerve-wrecking questions.  Finally I settled down (and some hours had passed) and messaged this:

Hi Kevin, I just saw this message. Ooops. I'd love to talk to you. At this point you may be traveling. If you'd like to call me my number is

Once he read my message he sent me this:

Hey I just saw your message. I didn't want to call you too late. However my dad talked to us this weekend and we heard you were in search of your relatives.

My stomach did a Simone Biles somersault into my throat. Kevin Jr. phoned me thereafter... 

*A ghost kingdom is the place within a person's psyche that houses fantasy. It can be thought of as an alternate reality. Many adoptees will fantasize about their biological relatives. In the absence of truth (reality), the person escapes into a  fantasy. 

          

 

Sap From The Family Tree (Meeting Diane)

On May 16, 2016 I was on a my way to meet my DNA cousin Diane. I was desperately trying to drink in the moment. I was fighting to not be distracted by ordering a paternity test with Kevin. I wanted every cell in my body to be present at this beautiful occasion. This was a precious gift. It was a dream come true to meet and hug a blood relative outside of my children. My nerves were dancing all over the place. My husband and kids were excited and curious like I was. The trip was incredible.
 Diane and her sweet husband met us at their local IHOP. There's nothing like family, eggs, and pancakes. Syrup should make anybody smile. Diane was warm and kind. A gentle and wise spirit. When she walked in, she and I embraced. It was a suture to my soul. She was unmistakably beautiful. Her features resembled someone native to India. I really wanted to just hold her face in my hands, and savor her presence. Her realness. I was soon to see that her beauty transcended her physical appearance.

 We sat and talked with a familiarity that was almost creepy to me. I knew her. I really knew her. We were deeper than niceties. We started with questions about likes, interests, and hobbies, and then we journeyed further. She shared her experience with me as a family historian. She imparted a bit of her soul to me as she generously allowed me a view into how she lovingly lives her life. Our conversation connected at the heart and soul. Listening to her was like words and sounds that gold would make if it could talk. Pure. Precious. Bright. Reflective.I steadied myself in the moment. I could see parts of myself in Diane. It was a beautiful capsule in time. I felt so welcomed and received. I'd sat at the table and been fed of a nourishing love that superseded the pancakes and syrup.  The air around her was refreshing.  DNA and heritage are amazing.We don't look alike, but we share other striking similarities. Our spirits are akin to each other.  I was awe struck by the things that can be inherited within a family.  She continually spoke words of blessings that would meet me and pursue me along my search.  Meeting Diane will forever live in my heart. IHOP's pancakes and syrup couldn't touch such a sweet moment....

Paternal Instincts

 On May 12, 2016, my search reached a new point. My cousin Precious' cousin heard of my information, and felt that he could possibly be my biological father. When I read Precious' message relaying this to me, then I read Precious' message relaying this to me. Then, I read Precious' message relaying this to me. After that I read.. you get it. The words, "I could possibly be her father.", just kept pulsating on the screen. I felt frozen and unable to sit still all at once. This powerful force of emotions shoved me into a surreal place in and yet out of time. I stood motionless in the middle of my living room floor. For all that I know, I could have been standing on top of a volcano as a dragon hungrily approached me. Nothing seemed real.
 I called my husband and told him that I may know my biological father. We were speechless for a moment after that statement. It was late afternoon, and the kids were spread abroad for various after school activities. My husband was headed home straight for me. Precious told me that his name was Kevin. He lived in North Carolina, and he'd lived near Charlotte around the time frame of my conception. He wanted me to call him. The idea of this phone call was so weighted that I felt like I would be making it from some other dimension. My head was spinning. Could this part of my search be at an end? Perhaps I'd reached a new beginning. It was time to take a deep breath and call Kevin...
 We connected on the phone on a Thursday evening. His voice swirled around me like I was in a wind tunnel. It was a lot to take in. We both asked each other a series of questions.We were both trying to catch our footing. Joy, pain, sadness, regret, confusion, and more had come to spin us dutifully on a crazy merry-go-round. Talking with each other was like stumbling around for solid ground after spinning wildly on this topsy-turvy merry-go-round.  The guards were up, but the kindness prevailed. We were unsure of what to do in such a life changing event. Every emotion, word, and thought were the foundation of an unstable ground that left me wobbly. But, we were receptive to one another.  Through this life-jolting uncertainty, I found Kevin to be endearing. Kevin has seven children, and he has a fierce and protective heart for all of them. His nature is loving. His humility in light of such a profound situation rolled out gently from his words. The possibility of being my biological father seemed to strike a point of grief. It was a grief of potentially having missed out on a lifetime. The whole thing made my heart ache deeply. Beyond basic background information, lifelong questions began to stand up within me and demand answers. Some would have to sit back down at that time. Intense longings pressured and suppressed caused some agony below my surface. It wasn't time to let it all flow.
 At this point, I was overcome with a spirit of inquiry. I got curious, and put on my detective's cap. I turned to a trusted source for further research: Facebook. As soon as he accepted my friend request, I went on the hunt. I was all over his page. I was comparing facial features. I was trying to get a glimpse of his personality from his posts. I was just trying to hold on to something. We did not have solid evidence and answers. Some of our information was a bit off, bringing us to a quick answer of Kevin not being my biological father. I wanted to be sure for myself. A paternity test was definitely in order...

Treading Water

 Honestly, I was not let down too much by not finding my sister. There was a peace in knowing that she was real.  I'd chosen that road as a means of connecting to my birth mother. I look back relieved that I did not find my birth mother in that way. I am now beginning to understand the impact that my search has had on the lives of others. I knew that others were affected, but my own personal hunger and longing left me a bit numb to their feelings. I could only feel my soul-aching hunger pangs. They were loud pangs. They were the starving kind. A being starved for the nourishment of knowing and belonging. A leaf disconnected from it's branch on the tree. Something in the depth of my soul was seemingly insatiable.
  I was trying to keep up with a dogged search (It was made tireless due to my own single-mindedness) while trying to maintain a healthy home, work, and family life. I was trying to maintain a healthy me. I'd promised myself and my husband that I would not lose sight of the precious family that I already had. And, that I would not lose sight of me. Sometimes I struggled with my promise, but I never let it loose. There were days that I was just an exhausted shell of myself. I'd fight relentlessly to pull myself into the blessed moment of the present. I had to come up for air from time to time, because the whole thing would threaten to drown me. It's threats were actually promises that I did not want to take a chance on. I was happy to surrender to periodic rest.
 When I wasn't resting from my search, I was strolling avenues of possibility. I was thankful to have other search pathways in which to travel. During this time in May, my visit with my cousin Diane was getting closer, and my research was wearing me down a bit . And then, a new wave rolled in. A new wave of strength, a new wave of information, a new wave of possibility, a new wave of hope.   My cousin Precious and I had been trying to figure out our relation to one another. We messaged each other at odd hours as I am on the East coast and she is on the West coast. This search had me keeping late and insane hours any way (or rather, I was keeping my search going until late and insane hours). We searched around her family tree for answers. It felt like chasing "whascally wabbits". Nothing was concrete, and we were running down holes that brought us back out to where we started. She and I discussed her speaking with some of her other relatives (aunts, uncles, grandmother, and cousins) in order to see if anyone knew anything. We decided that she would offer some of my general information without giving my name. On May 12, 2016, one of her cousins stepped forward with a hunch that he was my father. My heart hit the floor...

Cold Calls, Hot Potatoes

Here is where I digress a little from my initial contact with Diane. During this time, I was also on a hot trail to finding my sister. I'd enlisted the help of some private "searchers". They were "angels" of detection. By their help, my research, and an encounter with a library "angel" (a library historian who'd also been a social worker.), I discovered that I indeed had a sister. And, this sister existed on a list of 13 women who all shared some similar and important information. This led me to some heartwarming phone calls with complete strangers. Those calls gave me quite a bit of  encouragement on some weary days.

When the confirmed woman would answer the phone, I would tell her my name and the rest went as follows:

"I am doing research about my family tree. Is this a good time to speak with you about a private matter?"

 If they said yes, and they did, I would then tell them when and where I was born. After that, I would ask them if they had family living in or around Charlotte, NC at the time of my birth. I told them that I was trying to locate other family members that had lived there during that time. Then I would drop the atomic bomb of  questions: "Do you know of anyone in your family that relinquished a child for adoption?"

That question was loaded like a baked potato on hot bar Wednesday at Quincy's. Understandably, they'd start fumbling with it in their minds and into their words. The whole phone call was a steamy, foil wrapped potato that was searing to the touch. Some of the women started to formulate questions that they were going to ask their mothers and fathers. They were ready to toss that potato to a few of their family members. And, others knew immediately that their parents were not the people that I was looking for. For those who were suspicious of their kin, we would exchange more information until the potato began to cool. Their families were not my family. I went on to let them know that I called them because their names came up in my research. I was able to relay enough information to foster a sense of peace, understanding, and acceptance of the situation. Every one of those ladies offered a wealth of compassion. And once again, my heart melted like warm butter. I was grateful for the encounters. The cold calls had not led me to my sister, but I did have a great list of elimination going on. I was left with a few names that did not have a way for me to contact them, but I knew that one of those names belonged to my sister.
 I continued to work on my family tree that was housed on the Ancestry website. And, I was also preparing for my greatly anticipated visit with Diane. I was not quite prepared for what happened next...

Embracing Me: Wrapping Arms Around My DNA

Deoxyribonucleic acid is a molecule that carries the genetic instructions used in the growth, development, functioning and reproduction of all known living organisms and many viruses. 

LIFE.

Batteries For My Searchlight

It's innate.
That primal desire to know who you are and where you come from.
It 's natural.


  I was looking for my birth mother, I had active information open about my sister, and I was also looking for my biological father at the same time. It was heavy. I followed and acknowledged every lead. Nothing was wasted. Looking back, I wish that I'd just followed one line of research at a time. Perhaps I could have lessened my exhaustion that way. After I messaged my "2nd Cousin" match, Sam, I waited.  I also reached out to several other "4th Cousins or closer"  relatives. It was like searching through a box of new and used batteries. Which ones had the "juice" that was needed to power my search? Who had the goods? Who knew my biological parents?And yet, every person was uniquely helpful, and not to be discarded like old batteries. Each time I reached out with my story, I could sense that it sent a small shock wave into that person's life. And with each degree of closeness, I'm sure that the shock waves grew in intensity. Each person valuable in their own right, and incredible treasures in my life. During this time I met two "4th cousins" that were and remain golden. Prepare for a wild diversion of sorts...
 In early April, my sweet cousin Precious responded to my message immediately. She is predicted as my "4th Cousin". I found her hard at work on her own family tree. She shared with me that her grandfather had been adopted, and that she was searching for his biological relatives. She was more than happy to assist me in any way that she could. Honestly, the fact that she was willing to correspond with me was helpful to me. She offered me much needed encouragement and understanding. We didn't know exactly how we were cousins, but we were determined to work together in finding out. There's more to come in our adventure together.
  At this time I also reached out to my "4th Cousin" Diane. One night, I found her profile on Facebook, and I private messaged her. I shared with her how I'd found her name, who we both were related to, and that I was adopted. Her response to me broke my new defenses, melted my heart, and pierced my longing soul: I disintegrated into tears. Tears of gratitude. Tears of deep pain that I had not released before. Tears of joy. Tears of relief. Tears...
Also, when I read that you were adopted, it made me emotional. I hope that your family that adopted you gave you a good life and I am so happy that you found us! Wait until I tell my sister

  During that time of messaging, we arranged to speak on the phone the following day. Her first hello was warm and inviting. I was enveloped in a peaceful and a beautiful familiar love.  Our connection was instant. She spoke words of blessing and prayer for me and my family. Our family. I was readily placed in her open heart. We also discovered that we were living in the same state. We knew that a face to face meeting was the next step. It was forward movement. It was preparation. It was healing. As we talked about meeting face to face she said that she wanted me to "wrap arms around a DNA relative". She was the first relative that I made personal contact with during my search. I sobbed at her deep and thoughtful suggestion. As we concluded our first phone conversation, she welcomed me to the family. She welcomed me home. I laid in my bed and wept...

Relative Match

 On my last post I wrote about receiving my DNA results from a kit that I did. A little saliva goes a long, long way back. The results gifted me with my ethnic heritage and the revelation of the first DNA relatives known to me outside of my children. I opened my "Relative Matches" to discover that my closest relative was predicted as a "2nd Cousin". That was so close! This person could even be in the range of a "1st Cousin". I'd hit the jackpot! Most adoptees are hoping for a "3rd cousin" or closer. Lots of times, finding a gaggle of "4th Cousins" or greater (5th-10th/distant) is disheartening. If one only receives 4th cousins or greater,  then it would be difficult for an adoptee to trace their lineage to themselves. It gets complicated, difficult, frustrating, and dang near impossible. Couple that with the apprehension to help you by your recently discovered cousins, and you have a tangled ball of yarn in your lap. Granted, some relatives are not active on the site after seeing their ethnicity, others lack the knowledge of who your immediate relatives are, and some just don't give a flip. In time, I would encounter a representative (or 2) from every group. My world had just expanded. I'd just brushed the surface of my history. It was time to dig deeper.
 My "2nd Cousin" was such a gift to discover, but he had not been on the website in over a year. *Enter a severe heart drop and one extremely hard expletive* but, I wasn't giving up. I'd just started. So I messaged him. I addressed him and introduced myself. The rest is as follows:

I am on the journey of discovering my heritage. I see that you and I are related. I would like to know how we are related. Where are you from? Where is your family originally from? I am from Charlotte, NC, but I now live in Georgia. A lot of my relatives originate from South Carolina. I am trying to build my family tree. Would you be willing to share your tree with me? I hope that you and I can connect soon. 

 This would become one of my scripts as I searched. It was a way that I could approach people that were understandably skeptical in our scam-happy society. My heart ached. It ached because I had to hold out my "cup" to perfect strangers as I asked for "drops' of information that I hoped would lead to my biological parents. It felt somewhat degrading. But, I straightened my back, put a slight tilt to my chin, and moved forward on my trip around the mulberry bush...

DNA: My Heritage

  I had a friend to lovingly say that she did not want me to suffer through a long and tedious search. She was hoping that the identities of my bio parents would be revealed quickly and with ease. Her sweet wishes were a warm covering in the harsh cold of my governmental dealings. On April 6, 2016, I received the most uplifting news. I was in a bit of a pit as one of my searches had led to a dead end. Literally. I was excited for my search to be on an upswing. I'd gone to a PTA meeting the night that I discovered that Jacqueline Ellis was deceased. I could barely breathe. I felt so heavy. I darn sure wasn't "present" at that PTA meeting. I headed home to collapse on the couch beside my sweet husband. He began to provide words of comfort and encouragement. I was beginning to relax into a peaceful state when I decided that I would check my emails. BAM! I was no longer peaceful but exuberant with excitement... my DNA results were in! I was somewhat methodical in how I wanted to receive the information. I wanted to look at my ethnicity first, and then I wanted to look at my "Relative Matches".

I squeezed my eyes shut and slowly opened them to my screen. I am largely Nigerian. I felt an amazing sense of pride and fulfillment. My roots were appearing, and they were strong. I also got a couple of surprises. I have Irish heritage. That's so wild to me. I never would have guessed that. But, there was an even greater surprise. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to take a trip to Italy. That place lives in my soul. I can't explain it. I can smell the air. I can hear the busy and boisterous voices of the people. The landscape has always filled every inch of my being. The food, oh the food. I savored a land far away. My soul was invested in Italy, and I didn't know why...until now. I have a small bit of Italian heritage that lives so largely in my heart. I burst forth in laughter. I now understood my longing. This was just the beginning ...
 Next, I took a deep breath as I clicked on my "Relative Matches". This was huge. How close of a match would I have? Could one of my biological parents have tested? Would I discover a sibling, an aunt, or an uncle? Was there a relative who was looking for me? If a close relative had not tested, then I was in for a trip around the mulberry bush. I was hopeful. My heart was racing. I clicked on it to find that my closest match was a...

Alicia Keys - Send me an angel (Full version)

"Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere

 It's gonna take so long for me to get somewhere

 Sometimes I feel so heavy-hearted, but I can't explain 'cause I'm so guarded



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

To guide me



Sometimes I feel like a door with no key

And all the answers are locked away in me

But they're so hard to find, especially when I'm feelin' lost and so blind



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

'Cause I don't wanna feel like a dove with no wings

And I don't wanna know what a heart of stone would bring



That's a lonely road to travel, and heavy load to bear

And it's a long, long way to Heaven, but I gotta get there



Can you send an angel

Can you send me an angel

Please send me an angel

Can you send me an angel

To guide me



To guide me home...

'Cause I'm feelin' so alone in this big, big world"







Alicia Keys: Send Me An Angel

Don't Quit, Take An Interlude

 Jacqueline Ellis was not my mother.

 The birth certificate that I thought belonged to me was not mine. That baby did not survive, and the death certificate hit me with that fact. I reached a new dead end, and there were two souls in that cul-de-sac: Jacqueline and her baby girl. It was time to pause. Take an interlude. Exhaustion was beginning to complete it's destination to take over my being, and it was bringing it's twin friends desperation and despair. And yet, Compassion stood guard around my heart, and tenderly cared for me. Compassion had an indomitable strength, and it held me tight.

 During this brief moment,  I begin to wish that my biological parents were dead. It wasn't anger. The deceased leave a paper trail. Every indiscretion no longer a concern, because they'd moved on from this world and left all it's cares behind. It's easier to find the dead. At this point, I longed for ease. I've heard it said that trials and tough times make you strong. They build your character. They strengthen the sagging and drooping places of your inner person. I was like, "Just leave me weak.". Then I would laugh knowing that  it wasn't going to work out that way.
  In the beginning, Dee told me that if she found my bio parents, then they would have to legally consent (notarized paperwork) to contact with me before anything further about them was revealed. I was in a game of keep-away, and I was the monkey-in-the-middle. It was the kind of game where you're too short to grab the object that's being tossed over your head. And, you're not quick enough to seize the item as it's being stretched out of reach, and then being tossed past you as you're being held at arm's length. Dee relayed to me that if my parents were found to be deceased, then all of their information would be released to me, and that I would be connected with their next of kin. I was thinking, "Point me to the obituaries. I'm tired of this.". She also let me know that I would be charged a fee if either one of them were deceased, and I wanted to obtain their information. Wait. What?! The service of a confidential intermediary was free unless my bio parents were dead, and then I had to pay them for the information (mainly the death certificate). I'd now hitched a ride from the cul-de-sac by way of the "emotional turmoil bus". It was time to use these DNA results to figure this thing out for sure....without Dee, and without her knowing...

Side Dig

I refused to rest in deflation. After I wrote a letter to my "legal father", I actively waited for my DNA results. It wasn't easy to to travel on. I cried quite a bit, and I began to wonder if finding my biological family was impossible. It was a huge disappointment, to say the least. Anxiety was beginning to win a little. I was constantly trying to soothe my mind with "Be anxious for nothing... but through prayer and supplication, make your requests known to God...". (I was trying to soothe my mind, but my soul could not rest.) And yet, "faith without works is dead". It was a delicate balance. I kept working.
 I started a free trial with Ancestry. This led me on a bit of a detour. It was a "side dig", if you will. I began to use their "birth" search engine to look up African-American women that had a baby girl in NC matching the date and place of my birth. I found Jacqueline Ellis
 She seemed to be around the right age of my birth mother. She'd had a baby on my birthday. The baby's name was not listed. That looked interesting, and highly likely to be a child that had been adopted. I was hooked. I spent long nights tracing Jacqueline and her family. I even found where her name had been spelled differently on two of her children's birth certificates (including the one that I thought was me). Clerical errors happen, or a person alters their name so that they can't be found. I was intrigued. Hours turned into days, and the days turned into weeks. It all seemed to pass by without something to grasp onto. My dear husband would beckon me to come up for air. I'd made a vow not to neglect my precious and existing family. Some days I was in a limbo between two worlds, two different time frames. My prayers mostly consisted of one word: help.
   I searched through Jacqueline's family for about two weeks. Just as my senses had reached the height of nearing explosion, I found out that Jacqueline was deceased. I wanted to throw up. I felt that I'd possibly found my birth mother, and she was dead. My roller coaster ride was going down a hill. I grew numb in an instant. But, I was determined to move forward. She was a new lead in my search, and I wanted to rule her in or out. I needed solid facts about whether she was my birth mother or not. And, just as I was about to begin contacting her family on Facebook, my little roller car hit a sharp curve and did an upward trek... my DNA results were in!!!...

Missing Links and Important Clues

I couldn't quite accept this closed door. My "legal father" was not responding to phone calls or messages. It was painful. I'd come so close to some answers. I had a fragment of the story, a small darkened piece of history. I tried desperately to see things from his perspective. But, without contact, my view was limited.  However, I had to count my blessings in what I did discover. I'd found out that my birth mother was married to another man who was NOT my biological father. That mattered. I found out that this "legal father" signed my adoption papers. That mattered. I found out that he had remarried, and that mattered. I have to say that I couldn't touch the depths of my pain and anger over the idea of another man signing me away into foster care. I grieved for the baby that I was. So helpless. I fought hard to keep my mind out the space of wondering what type of person gives away a child that is not his. My life, identity, and medical history matter. I felt like I was in a crap storm of human maneuverings and corrective attempts to poor decisions. I was and still am a life in the midst of it all. I matter.
 What no one seemed to have a clue about was my sister. My non-identifying information did not mention her. To my knowledge, my 'legal father" did not mention her. Was she his daughter? Did she exist? In the history of adoption, caseworkers have often made up stories and relatives to "doctor up" the family history of the child being adopted. Since Dee seemed to have no knowledge of my sister, I was wondering if she was "made up". I called my mom and told her about my recent discovery. She said that she was told that my birth mother was single and raising my disabled sister. My mother and I had some differing information at this point. The adoption papers that my mother had never mentioned my birth mother's marital status. My non-identifying information listed her marital status as separated. The papers that my mother possessed gave my birth mother's age at the time of my birth. My particular packet of paperwork did not give her age. When I asked Dee about my sister and the other mismatched information, she said that nothing was ever mentioned of a sister. Dee even questioned me on where I'd gotten that information. As I continued to mention missing information and concerns, Dee became quiet about questions concerning "missing" or "varying" information. My hope was sinking, and my frustration was rising. At this point, my "legal father" was my only "found" link to my beginnings. So in a last ditch effort, I wrote him a letter:

"Hello Sir,
 I really don't know how to start a letter like this. First, let me say "thank you" for responding to the intermediary. I truly appreciated hearing from you through her. At this time, I just want to express my heart..."

Dee, my confidential intermediary, said that it never occurred to her to ask the questions that I was asking. She felt that all contact was lost after that first and last phone call with my "legal father". She never sent my letter. He never saw it...

Toothpicks for an Excavation

 My non-identifying information was quite limited. I wasn't given any medical history. That remained buried.  I was given court information about termination of parental rights. All forms had my name and my birth parents' names redacted. I also received a general physical description on my birth mother, and an even more limited physical description on my birth father. Tall. slim, and Black(African American). That's it. Yep, that about narrows it down. I combed through my entire packet. I hung onto every word trying to suck it dry of some form of a clue. It was exhausting. I cried. I wailed. I'd hit a wall, or so it seemed. What I was quick to learn from my dear friend Lorena, is that EVERYTHING mattered. I would become the detective that I never knew that I was. Some days it [the search] was invigorating. I felt accomplished. It seemed like I could take on anything. Other days, it left me drained and despondent.

  After I settled from the shock, I was extremely excited that my 'legal father" had been located.  I wanted to know what he remembered. Was he willing to cooperate with the intermediary? Was this a painful memory for him? Did he hate my birth mother? Was he sure that I was not his daughter? I had questions rolling out in wheel barrels! I contacted Dee by phone and by email. I always used every channel of communication that I could with her. I tried to be reasonable and thoughtful about her workload, and I tried to space out my inquiries as to give her time in working with others and receiving information about my case. On April 3rd, Dee informed me that she spoke with my "legal father". I was filled with the type of excitement that made me want to wet my pants...

 First off, he'd remarried. I was told that his wife listened in on this particular phone call. She was described as being quite vocal and full of inquiries. Dee said that my "legal father" said that he did not remember much from all those years ago. Let me interject right here. How in the bleepity bleep do you not remember much about a situation involving yourself and the adoption of a child? Really?! Let's move on... He said that he was not sure of my birth mother's location. I was told that he remembers her as having three brothers, and that her family was from Charlotte, NC. Dee believed that due to his wife's presence, he answered very few questions.  Things were almost made to seem like he didn't remember that part of his life at all. He wished me well through Dee, and said that she could call back if I had other questions. According to Dee, she failed to ask some of the important questions that I asked above. My mind was reeling. He was the first contact that had been made that held information about my beginnings. When she called back, he never answered the phone again...