Dear Kind Sir,
After I finished my reading from Secret Son at the Shaking The Tree book launch,
you tapped me on my shoulder. I turned quickly, expecting to see a friend or family member.
I didn’t recognize you, but your shy smile sent me smiling back. Your eyes were misty as they
searched mine.
You quietly thanked me for my reading. I was flattered and thanked you for your kind
words.
“You see, I was adopted in the sixties too, just like your son.” You explained. “My folks
said that the girl who gave me up had been a young unmarried girl and couldn’t keep me.
Maybe she didn’t want to keep me.”
When you shrugged and looked down, my heart felt your pain.
“Well, it’s hard to relate to now but in the sixties it was difficult for young unwed
teenage girls to keep their babies without a husband or family’s support. Being a single unwed
mother marked you as damaged goods. There were no resources to counsel and guide those
girls as there are today. No support at all. Your birth mother may not have had much of a
choice. Nowhere to turn.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Were you born here in San Diego?”
“No, in another state. I don’t have any other details about my real mother.” You
glanced at me and I saw such sadness in your eyes in those few minutes, as you continued,
“Nobody has ever looked for me.”
“Oh, you can’t be sure of that.” I reached out and touched your shoulder. “It was so
difficult to look for birth children and birth parents before the internet. You could hire a
undercover detective if you had the means, or put your name on long lists and hope your
adoptive child or birth parent put their name of those same list. It was a shot in the dark, at
best – especially if you were thousands of miles apart. Most states had sealed adoption records
and it was impossible to break into them. Actually, in many states records are still sealed.”
“Really? Why?”
“Well originally it was to protect the privacy of all parties involved. Hey, you
don’t know. Someone may be searching for you right now and just hasn’t found you yet.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “I just don’t know. Should I look for her? What if she
doesn’t want to find me or doesn’t want me to find her?”
Others started walking up to us and some attempted to speak to me. You looked
anxious until I motioned for my friends to wait and turned back to you.
As you were stepping away, head down, I caught your arm. “Have you ever done a DNA
test? I don’t know if my son and I would have found each other without the DNA tests.”
“No. You think I should? Isn’t it expensive?”
“Ancestry.com has the DNA kits on sale often. As low as $59. Sometimes. It’s so worth it,
my friend.”
Your face lit up revealing a brilliant smile.
“I think I’ll do just that. Do you think she might have done hers? She may want me to
find her?” Your face fell “Or would that disrupt her life?”
“You never know until you try. I do know one thing. It is the best thing I ever did.
I can’t promise you the outcome if you do find each other. It is worth a try though. She has not
forgotten you. I do promise you that.”
“Thank you. You give me hope. By the way-I loved your story.”
“I’m glad. You made my night. Just start there with the test.” I handed you my card.
You nodded towards my friends as we clasped hands. Then you were gone.
***
That is probably the last time I will see you, but I think of you often. Good luck my
friend, I hope you submit a DNA test and pray you find your birth mother and I hope she is as
ecstatic to be found as I was when my son found me. I hope someday you put your arms
around her and hold her, like she has dreamed of for 50 years. I don’t know her story, but I do
know how a mother who has held you under her heart for 9 months has not forgotten you.
You are her and she is you.
With love and best wishes,
Laura
Laura L Engel
Author of Secret Son in the anthology Shaking the Tree: brazen.short.memoir