In order to be adopted, a person must lose every family member first.
Take a moment on that.
Ahh.. the refreshing brutal truth.
We last met me as I was enlisting in the military and graduating high school. Due to the nature of my enlistment with delayed entry, I turned 18 two weeks before graduating Basic Training.
I have to draw a hard line in the story right now because I am not ready to talk openly about my time in the military. As a part of my lifetime of healing, I recognize that I am not avoiding the subject rather I am acknowledging that I currently lack the ability to open the door yet.
*Hits the fast forward button*
We come to a screeching halt and the year is 2018. I am living in Huntington, WV with the kids and once again Mom calls. She’s got this amazing story she just had to tell me.
My parents had received these DNA tests for Hanukkah. After a few months of them collecting dust on the library bookshelves, my mother was dusting and found them again. After a couple of days, they both took them.
She’d follow on with her results and how crazy it was, she was still pretty shocked. Then, in only the way my Mother can, she said she sent me one.
Hold the mother fucking phone… she said what?!?!
After 20+ years of searching and coming up to nothing, I had resolved the whole I’m adopted thing to.. Something is wrong with me. I was just a broken toy.
Now I’m staring at a little white box containing some instructions, a tube, sterile swab and a padded Pre posted return envelope. Like the bubble ones they sell at the Dollar(+) Store.
*Sidenote: Yes, it’s the Dollar+ store. It doesn’t matter which last name cousin Dollar has, they all charge tax. So… it ain’t just 99cents y’all.
I took it.
It was just long enough for me to have one of those ‘I wonder if..’ moments before I remember what exactly I had done.
I was working from home at the time for a major technical call support center. Anyone who has ever had any experience working in a call center will understand plainly, I was on a ‘hostage negotiation’ call.
While this lady is just berating the living shit out of me because she has issue with cell phone coverage where she lives. Clearly the cell phone providers agent got tired of listening to this, and told them to call the manufacturer.
At this point I was a single mother raising multiple children. I was used to be fussed at loudly over misguided beliefs. I knew from the jump there was nothing I could do to assist this lady, so I resumed playing Ghost Recon on PS4. Then I thought… I should check even thorough once again nothing will be there. I told myself not to get my hopes up.
Opened the email and BAM,
‘You’re Results Are In’
Somewhere in the back of my head ‘Your Not The Father?!’ Blared out in Maury’s voice as I clicked on the email.
My results resembled the class photo from my grandparents Independent Living Facility.
Nothing but a bunch of old folks. Like we are talking 70+. As I’m sitting in my chair thinking that I was the product of an Assisted Living romance. bing*
A message appears through the website. The profile picture looked like it was from the early 70s. It featured a round faced, dark, wave my haired lady in what looked like an open windbreaker, t-shirt and shorts. She is standing in-frontlipesd of a windowed building in some assorted city.
Enter my Cousin PG. The family genealogical expert.
She explained that I had taken the test with the least amount of records available. My results were displaying the older generations of her side of the family. She had been using this test prior to the Ancestry test being available. She needed my address so she could send me the Ancestry test to take. She would help me find where I fit in the family.
About a week later, a package from PG arrived. I ripped it open, took it and handed the return envelope to my letter carrier on the spot. I had found someone related to me that could help. After 37 years of my life, maybe this could lead to some answers.
Mentally at this point, I was unable to leave my house. My anxiety and depression had become so bad that I was eating my feelings. I had been coping this way throughout my military career and two marriages. Throughout the 20 year period I had also adopted a pretty nasty drinking and drug problem. Although I had been clean 07, I was on the verge of a complete breakdown. Living a block from the local beer cave was me enabling myself. I was drinking damn near nightly.
I was actively seeing a psychologist who prescribed me medications for depression.
Marilyn would have been proud.
Nine Days.
It took exactly nine days. I am on a call when my email starts destroying my phone sitting on the desk next to me. It was just like one of those Hollywood moments when the world is about to end, but they can’t get ahold of the government. At this point, I had given PG access to my ancestry account.
Looking at the clock, five minutes to lunch. I can wait 5 more minutes.
As I am clocking out, the phone starts ringing. It’s PG. I answer with a ‘Hey, what’s up?’ and I hear…
‘You’re Gary’s daughter. Unfortunately we lost Gary last September. The family has been looking for you for 20 years. Have you looked at your results?’
Reminder, it’s now 2019. I am 37.
I had not. I made a quick PB&J and grabbed a bottle of water. Sat down at the table with PG on speaker.
Holy fuck.
The entire immediate Paternal side of my family is there in black and white. PG had spent the last 10 years cataloging the every branch of this pretty expansive tree.
The treasure trove of information was overwhelming. Here are pictures feature people with my face, my hair, my body features… and all of them are Me sized.
Although there was no information on my bio mom, there was a match above the threshold for a siblings.
2,548 is our number
I had been living in a world where the days were all so empty and the nights were endless. Alone and isolated day and night, rarely leaving my home. I felt alone and abandoned.
I picked up the phone and called the emergency line for my psychologist. She was used to this because I legit only had gone to her because I didn’t have anyone else to talk to.
This time it was different. Two hours later, I followed her counseling. I wrote possibly the most awkward Facebook message to the only sibling listed in the obituary. That is.. the only one who looked the most like me.
To be continued.. again… it’s a long story 🍋💋
🚢💋SEDONA SUNSETS💋🏴☠️ 