Window of truth

I find most years that I reflect a lot as the new year approaches.
I think some people do it on new years, some on their dates of birth, and some don't do it at all. Perhaps I do it too often.

This week I have found myself laying in bed, ready to sleep, but unable or rather unwilling to turn the thoughts off. I am after all capable of silencing them with the help of a cd, however for some reason the past week I have decided to listen the thoughts.

I believe we each have a reason for being here. It may not seem like a huge reason to the world, and yet we picked our life for some sort of purpose.

I wonder how many people say what they have to say as if it might be their only chance to say it. Or how many, often like myself, do we think that something doesn't need to said. That we might think that the thought is already known from the actions, like love.

I do believe that when we leave this silly thing called life, we no longer give a shit about our bank account or cherished possessions though I do grasp the concept of emotional attachment to such things. My jewelry for one is important to me, or a few of the times are anyway. Either the person who gave it to me matters or the reason why they gave it to me. I would like those items to be enjoyed by another person once I am gone. However if they ended up in landfill I dont imagine it would matter to me in that place that our souls go to refresh.

I can't help but to wonder, as Dottye crashed through the windshield did she have regrets. Did she yell out " wait, I ahve things left to say." Did she see her life flash before her and bow her head in shame? Did she accomplish all that she was here to accomplish?

The only thing I can imagine for sure is surely she must have, at least once she was aware that she was dead, she must have regretted having those mid day drinks.

Does she look at us now and wish she could have a moment back? Would she be up there trying to figure out how to covey to us her regret, her love?

In the past year I've done my best to be myself and to be kind to those around me. The only thing I hoped for was that they be kind, or at the very least receptive to it. As people seem to happen upon my path, or perhaps I am showing up on theirs, I think we can only hope that we have done something to make their lives better. Even if it is as simple as making them smile by holding the door.

I don't know if there is any way to know our true purpose in each life, as well as not having a way of knowing when it might end. We don't all get to live to an old age, we don't all get a fair warning of our expiration.

I can't pretend that I will be one of those people who can live each day as if it was my last. I surely would not go to sleep if I really thought this might be my last day! I also can't pretend to think that I'm going to live each day one day at a time. I may not be guranteed a tomorrow but I'm still going to plan on getting up to feed the dogs and drink my cup of coffee!

I think the one real thing I can ask myself is to continue with my blunt ways. If my honesty scares people away, that's ok. Being true to my own nature may help me to not have regrets when my time here is finished.

I hope this doesn't read as odd, I do hope to be around long enough to acquire some more jewelry after all!

Happy new year to all who read this! I hope 2012 will be a full year, a year of truth to the core, surrounded by love.

Christmas Gift

I've been with my husband now 16 years and have spent Christmas with his family for each one.

They have one funny tradition that I took to right away.

First thing in the morning, or at least after midnight on Christmas Eve, you want to be the first person to say "Christmas Gift" to each person in your family.

The only rule is no cheating by doing it via email or text! It has to be vocal.

Shannon and I have hidden behind bushes to get his brother, we do all sorts of fun things to be the first one to say it.

This year as I opened my gifts from my sister, I could not help but to wonder what kind of traditions we might have had if we had been raised together, if Dottye had no placed me for adoption, if Dottye had not died.

Would we have baked cookies, a special kind?

Would we have cooked a ham, or grilled it?

Maybe we would have been able to open just one gift on Christmas Eve!

I can almost, just almost visualize my sister and I sharing a room and getting giddy waiting awake to see if we could catch Santa.

In later years maybe we would have taken turns sneaking through the house looking for where our gifts might be hidden.

It's not something that I will dwell on per-say.

It's just another thing to wonder. It's another thing that I can wonder because things might have been, could have been so different.

For now all I can really do is enjoy the traditions that I have with my husband and his family, a family that took me in just based on the fact that their son said that he loved me.

Damaged Goods

What do you do with damaged goods?

If you find that it is just the packaging that is damaged, do you open it up and check inside?

What if what is inside is damaged as well, but you can't tell until you have had it for a while?

Would you try to return it?

Would you keep it but just no longer show any interest in it?

Would you toss it out?

Does it matter how much you paid for it?

If you've had it for some time, do you decide to keep it for some sort of sentimental value?

Damaged Goods.

How do you really know what is damaged anyway?

There are the obvious signs I suppose.

What may seem damaged to one person might seem ok to another, especially if it was on sale, or they got a special damaged goods discount.

I "knew" I was damaged from the get go.

Added the thought that I was damaged because of my twisted ankle at birth. 

That showed that I was damaged on the outside. A cast was used to try and repair that damage.

At what point would people see the damage on the inside.

Or did they already know?

Did they get me on discount?

I don't suppose any of it matters.

Somehow, when I looked down at my wedding ring tonight and saw that one of the little diamonds had fallen out, the above is what rang in my mind.

Why  must it always run full circle to damaged goods, or in my life the equal of being adopted.

DNA = Do Not Ask

All the DNA testing in the world might not get me the answers I dream of having some day if the right people don't take the test.

The right people are who?

Oh you know, someone related to my birth father like his brother, son or father!

I can dream..................

Some days I wake up and can feel that little black cloud trying to sneak over my head.

I tried to race it today.

I hurried up and did my normal morning routine with the pets.

I could feel that cloud getting larger and it was only 9 am. I decided to do my hair a bit differently, I liked it enough.

The cloud however remained.

Depression?

Weather?

Self Pity?

DNA?

What ever it was I did the usual of trying to hide it.

I took some time off of the computer.

I shopped and didn't find a thing to buy.

I napped.

I waited.

I smiled.

I smiled because sometimes faking it works.

Shannon got home at the end of his own very long day, in time to let me crawl up on his lap for a much needed snuggle, rock and hug.

See some days it doesn't matter what I do, the cloud remains.

Other days it only seems to matter what those around me to.

Today Shannon did the right thing.

He didn't ask questions.

He just held me and let me breath out a huge sigh of relief.

We have no idea how much time we will have here in this life.

And for someone like me, that alone can not lift the cloud. 

A little love without question, judgment or suggestions with a little comfort from a hug.

Yup. Some days THAT is what it takes.

Silence in the storm

As we drove in the rain last night I made a confession to my husband.

"Sometimes it's really hard to be good." 

He asked me what I meant.

That was possibly one of his newest regrets.

I find there are times where my heart breaks and my mind gets speedy. It sometimes even feels like my heart gets dark, or slows down with sadness.

These are the times where I want to smoke, drink, be wild and let it all out.

I don't have an escape that makes me feel like it's all been vented. 

I don't often cry. I'm an extreme person on the inside but on the outside I think I am fairly even.

Black and white.

Good and bad.

Right and wrong.

My soul leads me to do the worst of things and my brain hold me in the role that I am currently playing.

I hope the pay off is a love for self though, and that's the reason why I stick to it I suppose.

Though some days I want to be just like her, wild and loved in all the wrong ways, but I want to be remembered.

Blood drips down

You don't know my birth date

I'm used to that in the sense that I have always known

known that my date of birth

has not been important enough for you to remember.

You continue to hurt me,

or maybe it's just as proper to say

I continue to allow you to hurt me.

I bite my tongue so hard that the warm blood

the blood drips down my neck.

I wipe it away with my shaking hands

only to be sure that you don't see my open wounds.

I will continue to be me.

I will continue to be kind

even to you

who maybe see's that word as a sign of weakness

Or maybe we are just kind to different people you and I

or in different ways.

I will swallow my blood and hold onto the taste

for in a few days

when you have gone back to your own shelter

well it will be then that I
once again
taste the salt of my tears.

to follow a scent........

And as I look back I can see how I fell into the arms of dreams and wishes that were to never come true.

The pain of not knowing

of searching for the scent that would never be right.

To seek that embrace that warms the soul and lets you know that there is at least one person in this world who truly understands, who knows, who shares the pain with you.

For that someone who shares your soul.

Reaching out blindly for a fleeting glimpse of that love

of that knowing touch.

Reaching for anyone who can offer a chance at that one feeling

A true embrace so filled with love that you feel like you might suffocate.

Instead only to continue to float through the days wishing to grasp the clouds that are too far out of reach.

For just one chance to feel the embrace and lose myself in your scent,

rather then wander my days and nights alone pretending to understand that love.

The Warm Way

I try to get gifts for others that mean something special. You know, say at a Birthday I can get some silly little things, and then one big thing.

For holidays my husband and I have always done something called the Salvation Army Angel Tree. It's for selfish reasons really. We don't have children and I wanted to much to make a child feel like they were the most important person in the world on Christmas, so we would pick an angel and buy everything on their list! I like to think they got that feeling, of being special.

We then started making purchases for the elderly. We had a program here by meals on wheels where you would buy a small list of items and it would be delivered with that seniors meal. I felt like they had done their time, they too deserve to feel as special as can be at least one day a year.

I made that first call to my sister 3 months before her Birthday. This was the first time I would be able to send her a gift and I knew right away what it would be. We had been to visit her a few weeks before her birthday and she showed me a huge baggie filled with film that needed to be developed.

I knew then, I would send her a digital camera. Well, it went over as a selfish gift. I think there were thoughts that I sent it in order for her to be able to send me photos on email. Truth is, I had the photos that I wanted, the photos of Dottye. I just had hoped to save her time and money by giving her the digital camera. I think she enjoyed it anyway.

In looking for unique gifts a couple of years ago I came across The Warm Place and I knew right away that this would be my special gift to my sister. I actually cried as I wrote the donation check to them that year. Cried for my sister, cried for our mother, and cried for the answers we would never get.

"Will you be missing a loved one this holiday season?

Her mother died suddenly and too soon. One out of 20 children will experience the death of a parent before they graduate from high school. When you make your holiday gift list this year, please consider a donation to The Warm Place in honor of those special people in your life. Your family and friends will receive a beautiful holiday, foil stamped card to acknowledge your gift in their honor. The best part is that your gift will continue to support a child every time he or she is helped to overcome the heartbreak of having a loved one die."

When I found this local home, a place for children and loved ones to gather to speak and spend time together, I knew this was the group that I needed to send my donation to. I could imagine my sister, on the swing set as a less then sensitive family member told her that her mother was gone now and there was no good reason to cry because it wouldn't change anything. How I wish my sister had someplace like the warming place to go to.

This year, Shannon will be a Santa's helper and call children as Santa and go over their list with them. He's got the laugh, he's got the heart. When I asked him if he would do it he said yes without missing a beat.

I think it is important to be kind, just because we can be.

It's good to give, even if it's tight, give.

I don't mind showing kindness to those who don't have it in them to show it back. 

Sometimes it's just good to remember that we all deserve to be loved and to be happy.

To always remember that an ungrateful or unhappy person has simply lost their way.

Maybe I can be lucky enough to help them find it.

The Warm Place link if you click here 

Can't stop the signs

Since my latest trip to Las Vegas and the article that ran in the Columbus paper after that, I have had some real struggles. see the news footage and article by clicking here.

After posting on facebook and speaking in great length to my husband Shannon, we decided that I was finished.After 21 years of legal age searching, it was time to call it finished. I had not found my birth father, nor had I found Dottye's birth family. I had hoped it might still happen with my DNA samples in registries or someone coming across old information that I had posted.For the time being though, I was done in my active search.

I've never been good at balance. I jump in with two feet and have a hard time seeing beyond what my current task at hand is.Throwing in the towel on my search in the past had not been an easy decision and was usually only done in order to be able to focus on some other life project. This time I found it to be a relief, I was ready to move on to living life.

What would I do? Fun things like get back into taking photos, spending time reading, and driving my mustang down the drag strip. Call it a bucket list, or just call it living life. I was ready to move on.

How do I ignore the signs?

So often during my search I would get a clue, a tid bit, a lead, or something to make me hope once again that my search was not in vain. Many times when I allowed myself to open my heart once again to hope, I found a new pain, a new let down, a new reason to frown.

As I reflected once again on my search I also often felt that this search may not be about my ultimate goal of finding my birth father and Dottye's birth family. It may have more to do with the people that I meet along the way. It may not have anything to do with myself at all but rather maybe it is a search where others get to peek in at my journey and learn something for their own lives?

When I first decided to throw in the towel I was contacted by a P.I out in California. She said she wanted to help and I asked her if she knew my story. She replied that she did not and so I asked her to go to my website and take a look. If she still felt like she could help, then contact me again. She did go to my website and she contacted me again. She asked me to send her my list of names of Keno Writers from 1970 and told me that she  would work on those. 

Once again I opened myself up to hope and sent her the list. I never heard from her again though I tried contacting her several times from two different email accounts. I also sent an email to the company she works for, and received no reply. The best I can guess is either the company she works for, as well as herself, are less then legit or don't have the best morals in what they are doing. That, or, possibly, she was checking me out for someone who wanted to know more about me. I've had to close the door on that hope. Yet once again I was let down in a huge way and decided, it's time to live life.

What have I been doing? I've read a lot of books, played around with my camera. I stopped smoking yet once again and instead of a cigarette each morning I take my car out for a drive. My husband and I are working on upgrading the look of a few rooms in our home, and have made plans to do some exciting things in the future. I will post about those after they happen.

What have I not been doing? I have not been actively searching. I check my DNA sites each morning to see if I have any new relative matches. Other then that, I've just been living life.

As we were "just living life" last night we came home from checking on a friends cats. I walked into the office to see there was a message on our machine. Yes, we are one of the few that still has a home phone. I pressed the play button and listened.The message was long and Shannon asked me who it was to which I replied with a just a second gesture.

Who was it? 

After my latest visit to Las Vegas I decided to try something different. I pulled out my La Voce Italian American magazine that I had picked up in Las Vegas and I emailed every person in there that had a restaurant or store ad. I received one reply from that mission. The man was ultra kind and told me of a man who is a bass player there in Vegas. He sent me his phone number and told me to give him a call, and so I did.

We spoke for a long time as he was rather interested in my search. He was only in high school during the early 70's so would not have known Dottye. He took my name and number and said he'd do what he could. He was ultra nice and I chalked it up as meeting yet another kind person along the road of my journey.

Last nights message was from that man. He told me that he had made a bunch of phone calls and came to the conclusion that while there is information out there, that it is likely that only a PI would be able to obtain it.Information like sheriff's cards that are not public information but maybe a PI would have the proper contacts to get a look at them. He said "It would seem to me that what you need is time and money. I of coarse don't want any money, and you've already put in the time, so I can only think that maybe if you have the  money and want to it might be time for you to find a PI."

When the message was over I was tool tired to call back, and it was close to bed time. I looked over at Shannon and all he could do was laugh and offer me a hug.

How is it that any time I am ready to take a break, or in this case, ready to really throw in the towel, someone interrupts that thought and tries to keep me on track?

I can only be grateful that I have Shannon by my side as people call, emails come in, or we receive some sort of "Sign" so that I don't feel like I have lost my mind all on my own. It's nice to know we are loosing our minds together!

There were other signs this week as well, in the form of hummingbirds and dragonflies. I'm not sure why this is my road to take, but I will continue on and do my best to even out my search journey with real life events which are bound to include some happiness.

I know that I do have a choice in this, at the same time I feel like throwing in the towel or giving others the power to decide the ending is the wrong choice. So, back to it.

They say it's your Birthday

How often did I wonder "Is today really the day that I was born?"

As I got older and when the Internet was available, I found so many other adoptees who asked the same question.

Depending on what year and state that you were born in, the date you had been "celebrating" may not have been the date that you were born on. Some amended birth certificates were allowed to change that information as well as all of the other false information.

I was one of the lucky ones in being able to find out that indeed, June 2nd was really the day that I was born on. Celebrate, well we're still working on that. Some years are better then others.

When I woke this morning I felt odd. Our a/c is broken and the house is hot, we got very little sleep so I chalked it up to all of that. I was not able to take my 65 Mustang for my normal morning drive as I had to wait for the repair man. I thought that might have something to do with my mood as well.

As I sat outside waiting for the morning sun to begin heating up the city, I had a visit from a friend.

I don't have a name for her though we have met several times over the last couple of summers.

I quit smoking a month ago and so I don't see her as often as I used to. She would usually come visit while I sat outside of my front door smoking. One day she came about three feet in front of me and just hoovered there, as if she was checking me out and trying to tell me something at the same time.

This morning was the first time that I met with her int he backyard. She come around the side of the house and over the fence. Again, she hoovered about three feet in front of me for about a 5 second visit. As she flew away I looked up to the sky and said "Thank you. I'm not sure who you are but thank you."

She's a beautiful, tiny and spunky hummingbird. In the past I have thought of my husbands Great Aunt Margie when I see her, because Margie had a large collection of bird figurines.

This morning as I said my thank you, I wondered.

If it is possible for our loved ones living on the other side to send us signs, how do we know which sign is from which person? 

In my case, I didn't get to know Dottye, my first mother.If she sends me signs, I might be seeing them but at the same time may not be aware that they are from her.

As I sat here talking to the dogs, waiting for our a/c to be fixed and working on the computer, an email came through from my sister.

She was almost 6 when Dottye died.

She reminded me that today is the day that Dottye celebrated her Birthday. We have a document that shows her actual date of birth was on another day, and I had to wonder:

Did she know that today was not the actual date of her birth?

Did she decide on a new birth date when she decided on her new name?

Did she send the hummingbird?

All I can do is wonder, hope, and ask for more signs to help lead me to the answers.

Either way, I found some peace in the visit from my little friend. I wonder if I should name her.

Happy Birthday Dottye.

Click here to see my tribute video and photos.

A baby donkey, my bucket list and 3 dad's

You know growing up I would make lists of things I wanted or hoped to do someday. We now know those lists to be called bucket lists. I'm cool with that, but how do you fit it all in a bucket??

I want a donkey. Have you ever seen a  baby donkey? They are beyond cute, though aren't all babies? When my parents took us to Grenada I believe on our first visit, I was around 4 or 5 years old. On the beach was a local man who offered donkey rides. I was in my bathing suit and remember thinking the donkey was making me itch, and wishing I could take him home to cuddle. I never took another donkey ride after that. When we drive by fairs that have horse or donkey rides I have to look away. They're tied up and walking in circles, I don't think they are enjoying the children on their backs at all. I'd love to have enough land to have a donkey where he can just be free to roam. I told my husband though we would need to get him a goat to keep him company, and maybe a cow. I adore cows. Have you ever pet a cow???

I have 3 dad's. One raised me, I know him rather well. 

My second dad is called with affection "Donkey Dan."

I met him through classmates.com when I was trying to find people who knew Dottye.While he didn't know her, he was one of the people instrumental in finding out who the birth father was to Dottye's first born child. He also helped us to clarify the year of her birth. We remained friends online. He's a story teller in a very special way, he writes from the soul with a lot of humor and wit. I call him dad. I hope to meet him in the physical some day. Why do I call him dad? There's a connection there and I know he cares. And he said I could. :0) He told me that donkeys can be mean. And like I would with the dad who raised me, I'll smile at that comment and get one someday anyway.

My bucket list is not long. I did something last week that I didn't even know was on my list. I have the simple things on my list like find the rest of my birth family which includes my birth father and Dottye's birth family. I'd like to have that donkey. Someday I want to sleep on a secluded beach, and for sure before I kick the bucket I'd like one more ride on a motorcycle. Getting my book published before I die would be great, I'm ok if it happens after I die as well. 

What did I do last week. I took my 64 Mustang, named Molly after a horse I used to ride in camp, and did a drag race at the Texas Motor Speedway with her. My husband said I should. We had gone the week before to watch the races. Everyday people having fun on a safe track. Could I do it? Did I dare to do it?? My stomach was turning as I got in Molly and put my helmet on from a practice race. It was still 100 degrees and you can't run your ac on the track. Add the helmet, let's just say it wasn't pretty! I gave the thumbs up and punched the gas to the floor. I did two practice rounds. I lost the first one but had a good feel for how this works. The second one I won. I was smiling ear to ear as I pulled my helmet off and waited for Shannon to come to the car. As the driver I had just beat drove past me his grin turned to a large frown when he saw I was a chick. Classic, made me smile even more.

I lost my actual race. I bet him from the start then lulled too much to win. I almost looked parked as he drove on past me. My calves were sore for three days later. The rush was amazing and I look forward to winning a race. Guess that's on my bucket list, to win.

What's on your bucket list? Will you share it with me here on my blog so I can go back and reference it when I run out of my own ideas?

Is it wrong to hope on the anniversary of her death?

It's been 38 years since Dottye died.

I've only known for 7 and like so often with death, it feels like I have known forever and at the same time like I just found out.

One of the things that was hard to gasp was the fact that when I found out that she had died, I had already out lived her.

It took a long time to not envision her at her time of death, to not imagine the grotesque things that happened to her body in that crash.

I was not at peace with her death for a long time, and I can only thank Allison Dubois for helping me to find peace.

I thought, my sister and I as well as other family members wondered, did she commit suicide?

In my heart I wondered as my brain tried to convince myself that she would never have put strangers in harm as she tried to end her own life.

We knew she had a tortured soul, and I wondered often.

It only took one phone call with Allison to know in my heart as well as my mind that this was an accident. 

She may have had times where she wanted to die, but she ended up dying alone on the side of the road and that wasn't something that she planned.

Is it wrong to be so full of hope on this the day of her death?

An article ran in the Columbus Dispatch written by Joe Blundo.

The phone conversation with Mr. Blundo was relaxed and easy. Though as I hung up the phone I noticed how much I was sweating so I must have been nervous without mentally noticing it.

That article is in the paper today, the Sunday paper.

This the 38th anniversary of her reported death.

I have had a lot of hits to my website already, many from the Columbus area.

I am hopeful that someone will contact me who remembers her.

Maybe it seems wrong, but even without that hope I am grateful that in my own small way I was able to make a tribute in the form of a reported news article to my first mother.

The mother I will always feel a connection to; the mother I who I believe never got to hold me.

The mother whom I sometimes say "I never got to meet" but in reality, in my reality, is with me each day.

As my connections to some people fade, I find that my search for truth is building a connection within myself that I never had before.

Maybe that will be my answers when all is said and done?

Maybe my search is for myself, for a part of me I am still to find.

I'm not sure if she is resting in peace, I do think she is.

Maybe my digging would have upset her in life.

I believe though that as she watches me work at it, she is smiling down knowing that she is the center of my attention.

She liked to be noticed.

Click here to see the story by Joe Blundo on my search for people who Remember Dottye in the Columbus Dispatch. 

As I dropped to my knees..............

7 years ago today as my head spun and my mouth filled with the desire to vomit so many things never occurred to me.

For one, it had never occurred to me that my search efforts would all be in vain.

How could I have ever imagined that Dottye had died not a year or two before I would find her but 31?

She died before I was even walking without the help of furniture to keep my balance.

She didn't die from old age or perhaps the cause of a bad habit.

No, I was told in the by one of the kindest women I had yet to meet that she had died in a car accident.

The only words that helped to ease that pain were that she had died alone, no one else had died in the accident.

But she died there, at the scene, as she lay on the road.

How could I have imagined such a sad outcome of my search?

As she told me the other news my spirits began to rise and spin.

I had a sister, her name had been mentioned in the obituary.

I had always imagined that I had a sister, the only difference in my make believe was that she would have been younger then me, not older.

As I went about my day with a sort of shocked glaze, with a "Yes, I'm fine" reply each time I was asked, I could never have known how long the rest of my search would take.

In my make believe world I would have found Dottye and she would have filled in all of the blank spaces, all of the missing people. 

I never set out to become a detective.

I never set out to draw so much attention to myself or my search.

How could I now, today, look back and hold any regrets?

I can't. 

I don't.

I have done the very best I can to not hurt anyone else who was with me or in my path.

When I had choices to make I was sure to run them past my sister as well as my husband.

My search has been my own with some major support from my husband and thoughts from my sister and family.

7 years ago today I heard the most horrible words.

"Dottye is dead. I'm so sorry"

Today I can look back at those words and no longer feel my world begin to spin from them.

Rather I can grin because I know she has helped to lead the way to some of the most amazing people I have ever met.

Had she been alive, I might never have met them.

Had she been alive, I might never have known as much about her as I now do.

I can only look at it that way because she is not alive to tell me any different.

Lesson learned. Flip it when I can, make it better when I can, and cry when I need to.

Today is the day that I lost my first mother.

No, it's not the day that she actually died.

It's the day that my world came crashing in around me, the day the my life's dreams died.

And it is also the day that new dreams  began to form.

Click here to see more photos and details of my search.

7 years ago today ~ A name

It was 7 years ago today that my searcher called me and shared with me my first mothers name.

A name.

I finally had a name!

Dottye Robertson Moore.

We giggled at he way that she spelled her name with a "ye" rather then "ie".

I could only imagine what she must be like.

She would be in her 50's.

Would she even want to know me?

I hoped that she would speak to me at least once.

I went online to my adoption search groups and typed in her name.

Nothing.

Not a single mention of her name on any of the search sites?

Well that's fine, maybe she wasn't looking for me.

I had her name now so there's not a thing that can stop me now!

If she doesn't want to talk I'll at least get her to send me a photo, tell me who else I am related to and tell me medical information.

If she doesn't want to do any of that, well I will just show up at her front door and demand it!

My first mother is Dottye Robertson Moore.

7 years ago today I had thought, I had hoped that I would be able to call her soon.

This now 7 years later, I am flooded with hope by total strangers who are joining me in my journey to find my truth.

They are hopping onto this crazy ride, and they do not even know my middle name or favorite color.

It's amazing what hope can bring.

It's fascinating what Dottye is still able to do with her look from a photo, to make people want to know what is on the inside of that soul.

Continued hope during what was one of the worst weeks of my life, as well as the best.

Continued hope!

The week of sadness = The week of hope

I had searched for 14 years before finding out my first mothers name.

I did as I was advised by sending in requests to the courts, and paying the fees to do so.

When the Internet came out I joined the groups suggested and searched different places for anyone who might be looking for me.

It was disappointing every time I looked, and found that there wasn't a soul who wanted to find me in return. 

Hurt leads to a lot of thoughts, a lot of theories, and a lot of questions.

Maybe she wasn't looking for me because she was told not to.

Was it possible that she didn't know how to search for me?

Dear lord maybe she didn't want to know me at all.

Was she a street person or in a mental ward? 

Was she strung out with a house full of other children?

The truth just never occurred to me. It was never even a thought.

I had my "non identifying information" so I knew a few things.

I knew she had been married, but my birth father was not. This was the first sign of why I had been given up to begin with, an affair. 

I knew her age, and as the years went on I knew that she too was getting older and that my time would at some point run out. 

I just never imagined that her time was already gone.

I knew that conventional methods of searching were not working for me. I had joined so many registries, forums, and had mailed or emailed so many groups trying to get my answers......

I decided to start listing items for sale on Ebay. This was my way of helping to contribute financially though I did also have a  job at the time.

I was selling purses that I had embellished with dachshunds made of fabric, rhinestones and vintage buttons. I did some with poodles as well, they were actually rather cute for someone who likes to be noticed.

I also tried my hand at painting. I only did one painting, and it was a purple dachshund flying through the air. She had a rhinestone collar. She was cute, to me anyway, as well as the buyer.

In the description of each item for sale I added a tad about being adopted and searching for birth family.

The painting was sold and the woman who bought it sent me an email informing me that she had purchased it for her daughter who was not yet a teen. Her daughter was adopted and when she became of age, this woman, her adoptive mother, would help her search.

This was my first personal experience with an adoptive parent who seemed to understand the need of knowing ones origins.

This painting also caught the eye of someone else. She sent me an email and informed me that she had sent my information to a gal in Ohio who does searches. This gal would go to vital stats and search for my birth name, if I was interested. All I had to do was call her and pay a small fee for meters and gas.

At first I thought it was a hoax. I spoke to my husband Shannon about it and made the call. She told me the fee, and I mailed the check. She told me when she would be going to vital stats, and I waited. We spoke a couple of times and emailed often. She explained that my search could take some time. The year 1972 at Columbus vital stats is not in order by date. Several years for Ohio are missing names, parts of the year, or are out of order like 1972 which makes an already tedious search even more so.

It actually didn't take long at all. 

I'm not going to go into the story of that call since I believe I have already touched on it.

What will I say?

Now, 7 years later, 7 years after finding out my first mothers name, and then about her death......as my husband and I have grown into different beliefs over time, I can say this was not by chance, it was not a coincidence.

I found out my first mothers name on July 13th and 14th. This was two days as my searcher checked for maiden as well as married and had to verify that she had the right birth.

On July 15th I found out that Dottye Robertson Moore had died in a car accident on July 17th, 1973.

You can not tell me that someone was not guiding this whole thing.

It is too much in our eyes to call it a coincidence that the first phone call to my sister was on the day before the anniversary of our mothers death.

July 17th is a sad day of coarse. For me however it is the 15th that takes me back to the sadness, broken dreams, and lost hope. While Dottye died on the 17th, my heart broke on the 15th and so I find this day a bit harder to escape in my mind, a bit more difficult to move through.

Shannon and I are able to look back over the 15 plus year we have been together, over the past 7 years of knowing this and that about my birth family, and we can laugh. There is so much frustration involved almost daily as I continue to try and track down leads. However, we have met some of the most amazing people along the way and are impressed with how much we have found out, how much we have been able to accomplish so far.

As we head into what is a roller coaster  ride of a week, we brace ourselves for what may or may not come. We have added this year the lost of a very beloved pet named Nugget, and that pain is still very fresh as well. Nugget. He was 9 and a half when we got him, meaning we had him before we got any of my answers.

Nugget. His name was actually supposed to be Nougat, you know the part of a Snickers candy bar? We spelled it wrong and Nugget stuck. We had to laugh when we found out that Dottye got pregnant with me while in Las Vegas.........and that we often called Nugget "Our Golden Nugget."

It all happens for a reason, sometimes it is hard to reason while the emotions are so strong. This year I will trust my heart, listen to my gut, and look back hopefully with happiness over what I have found, rather then the pain of those who have said hurtful things along the way, and rather then looking at the work still to be done.

Hopefully.

Still have a heart full of hope, and with that I am pretty confident that I will remain a ok :0)

Our boy Nugget......how could you not love that angel face? We miss him daily, and know he is always with us in spirit.

If you questioned my sanity before.........

I spent today sending out emails to each establishment I could find in the La Voce paper that I had picked up during my March visit to Las Vegas. Why not. My father was Italian, so why not reach out to other Italians?

I did get one reply and hope he will continue to spread the word.

That's not the nuts part, though to some it might be border line.

Going to try not to get too personal here. Me, not personal! lol

Daisy did a pee in the hall this morning. All I could think was because the grass was wet and we had been out of  town maybe she decided she'd do it her way? She slunk down as she walked past the spot and I assured her that it was ok.

Daisy is my 9 and a half year old long coated mini dachshund. She has been, shall we say, special needs her entire life. Back surgery was a success. But she has always had female issues and can not have any vaccines at all. She almost went to the bridge after a bee sting, then a black widow bite, then another bee sting.

When we leave Daisy she can shut down sort to speak. She gets nervous and then her body just shuts down. Maybe kind of like when we travel and catch a cold?

I cleaned up her mess and we went on with our day. I had been a little concerned, she has been tired since we have been back home but I think that is the heat. Today she has been in great spirits.

I came home to give her a snack as well as her baby brother Duke. They get one at 8 pm every night because she has to have meds given to her 12 hours apart. I took them outside after their snack and Daisy was a good girl again and did her pee out in the grass. I let her in and stayed out with Duke for a few more minutes. When I came in I noticed the puddle on the kitchen tile, and the big ol "I'm sorry" doxie eyes of Daisy Mae looking up at me. 

Again, I cleaned it up and assured her it was not her fault, for I know it is not and getting angry will not make anyone feel better.

The personal part? Way TMI but Monday I had my OBGYN appointment. I go every 6 months to make sure my left ovary is not growing some sort of new tumor. I checked out A ok however they noticed blood in my urine and ran it to be sure that I didn't have a UTI. I don't, not sure what the blood was from.

I told my husband over the phone what was giong on this evening and I said "Do I need to mention to you the blood in my urine this week" to which I could hear him smile as he said no.

He then called me a total head case.

He knows it is true.

I've been given a special connection with Daisy Mae, a medical connection. I don't think I have it with Duke and I only had a tad of it with Nugget, but I have always had it with Daisy and in a way it makes me wish I had been able to have or made the choice to have had a child.

If I had been paying attention I would have known on Monday that Daisy was about to have a health issue. Usually I present signs with out any medical diagnosis to back it up, before she does. Mind you I'm sure my signs are much weaker then hers since there is never an actual condition (unless crazy woman is a medical condition!) but with Daisy she usually has to be put on meds.

So, I often worry when I have a migraine that Day or Duke are hurting as well. If my back is sore for no good reason I give Daisy and Duke a massage just to be on the safe side. When my allergies and acting up with a basket full of tissues, I tend to their teary eyes as well.

We've been blessed to have Daisy healthy for several months in a row now. We've been blessed to have her when she is not healthy, heck even near death. This dog has taught me more then some people in my life have taught me! I'm sure we'll get her to the vet and she will check out fine.

What I'm not sure of is why I felt the need to share it with so many who might now walk over to their significant others and laugh their butts off!

Maybe because I am proud that I can walk in the door and know just what my fur kids need. And when I walk inthe door, they know just what I need as well.

An example of good

I think we are all blessed to have good people in our lives, at least I hope we are.

My search has brought that knowledge full force.

While I may not yet have the answers that I seek, I do get surrounded by good.

During my trip I was also exposed to what felt like pure hate from someone who I thought would always be on my side. I wasn't able to allow it to bring me down though, because the hate was unable to break the barrier of those who are good.

And they don't "have" to be good.

They're not being decent people just because they think someone is watching or taking note.

No. They are good people just because they can be.

If you have not tried being just plain good, give it a shot. It is rather contagious and being good to others just feels, well, good!

I spent my day today on the computer for 5 plus hours so far. I'll take a break to talk about Shannon's day and then get back to it.

I was tracking a couple of people down, leads we hoped and found one of the two deceased.

I'm tired of finding dead people.

I sent emails to a ton of magazines. National publications as well as local in Ohio and Vegas.

Newspapers, news stations........the list goes on.

It was begining to feel like a good time fora  break when I checked my email one more time.

I got a notice that I had been tagged in a friends notes.

A friend.

He's a wonderful man with so much character. He was raised in Las Vegas and now works on Fremont.

He's one cool dude :0)

I have copied his poem below.

It's perfect, I love it, I am blessed to know John and honored to have his poem to share with you.

They get together.  She feels guilty.  No abortion.  Adoption.

Closed adoption.  "I’ve made a mistake."  Peace of mind.

Protection of child.  Live well.  Forget about me.

How could I forget about you?  

Is my hand not attached to my arm?

Is my foot not connected to my leg?

We are one, you and I.

I am NOT a mistake.

The waking from the dream of error.

Peace, indeed, is looking for you.

Are you ready to be found?

Daddy.  I know WHAT you are.

I’m just having a bit of trouble with the WHO.

Could you help me?

I can understand your fear.

I can nod my head at your forgetfulness.

I haven’t forgotten, though.

I am not afraid.

Share my faith, if yours is weak.

Receive my love if you feel lacking.

We are one.

Giving and receiving is the same.

~ John A. P.

Pick your team

Most who know me well enough know that I am a huge Cleveland Browns fan. No, I'm not an idiot, I know that a winning team is a lot of fun. There's just something about being raised in Cleveland that makes you see what being a sports fan is really all about. It's die hard, it's enjoying that you are surrounded by others who are rooting for the team, even when the can't find a way to win. The fact that you bark in the stands and they're known as the Dawgs sure does help!

Growing up we get to pick our team but I feel like in mine it was low scale. We are in the home that we are in and make the best of it no matter how good or how bad it might seem at the time. Truth is when it seems bad, you're a kid, so you're stuck anyway. So we might be forced to seek out a good team while in school or at camps. I usually, when picking my friends, sought out those who were quit or picked on, sometimes out casts. It felt good being with them and it felt good knowing that they enjoyed being with me.

As an adult we really get to pick a team. Out on our own learning life as we live it rather then by what others are telling us life is about. I made a few bad picks early on. However, those bad picks actually made me a better team member. I learned to not latch on so much and to carry the ball on my own from time to time.

Today I really get to pick my team, in a sense like an assistant coach. Players are put before me and I can pick to play them or play with them. I'm happy to say often I chose to play with them. Every now and then my mind allows me to imagine what it would be like, to feel like, to play them.

The Browns, they're under dogs but their fans continue to show up to tailgate and party, going home hoarse from yelling after each and every game. The rain, the lake effect snow, the wind chill does not keep these fans at bay. They simply layer up with more coats and continue to rally around what they believe in. A loser team that just might find a way to win and to pay back to their fans all of the years of dashed hope.

My team? My team does the same. When my pass gets  intercepted or I get knocked down to the ground because of a play that was not up to par, my team rallies around me.We work together to make the plays pan out as they should on paper. I do however have a few players within my team who needed to be benched. I can't kick them off of the team, that's not my job, that job belongs to the coach. If the coach decides to remove them then so be it. But for now he decided that they are still members of my team, and so they just sit on the bench.

I'm not asking for cheer leaders. Not yet anyway. Once we make the big play that no one saw coming, once we get that final TD that we've been dreaming about, once we say the team has played to the top and can't get any higher, then I'll ask for cheerleaders.

For now I'll just stick with my team, even the ones who would prefer to deter from the main goal, even the ones who have issues with their jock straps being too tight. I hope for them that they can learn to adjust to the plays that are being called, and rally on to help finish this game.

Got to love those who support what so often feels like a team who can get so close to making the playoffs, or even the super bowl, and they never throw in the towel or say a mean word. Those are the best players of all!

I don't have news coverage of my team in action, oh no wait, yes I do. Click the link below to see a little bit of how team work can lead to good things.

Small in numbers but big in heart!