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.
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