|  My mom and I (1961) |
I was in third grade when I found out I was adopted. It was very traumatic for me because I didn't have a clue because my parents didn't tell me. We had moved to a little town in Alaska and I was the "new kid". The first week we were there one little girl started to tease me on the bus ride home. She kept saying "You're adopted, you're adopted because your mom has blonde hair and you have black hair." I had no idea what that all meant and by the time I got home I was in tears. When I walked through the door my mom asked what was wrong and I told her, hoping that she'd tell me it wasn't true, whatever this adopted thing meant. She told me, "Yes, you are adopted." For a few moments I felt my whole world coming apart. I thought there was something wrong with me. She explained the circumstances behind my adoption.
My birth parents: Buzz & Iva
1957
My birth father was her son, he was a bush pilot on the Arctic slope of Alaska. My mother was an Eskimo woman he met in Barrow. When I was two months old he was killed in a plane crash. My adopted parents didn't even know about me at that time, it was during the funeral they found out he had a wife and a daughter. They invited my birth mom to stay with them and she did. I'm not clear on how long this was for. But, she was young, 19 at the time. She had told them that she had decided to let friends of hers adopt me. My adopted parents told her that if she was going to give me up to please let them have me, since I was their grand daughter. My adopted mom also told me that she thought that my birth mom had a son that was a couple of years older than me.
Something inside me changed after I was told about being adopted. I felt insecure and very angry. Angry about my birth father being killed and angry that I wasn't told this sooner. Every time I got mad at my adopted parents I would wonder if my birth mom would have loved me more than they did. I didn't know anything about my culture since both my adopted parents were white and I was never exposed to my native heritage. We'd see films about Eskimos in school and I'd wonder if any of the people in the films were my mother or possible brothers and sisters. I'd look at Alaska magazines and wonder the same thing. I was always looking at native people and wondering if they were related to me.
I also started snooping through my parents filing cabinet hoping to find more information. I came across my original birth certificate and saw that I did indeed have a brother a couple of years older than me.
Things between my adopted mom and myself were turbulent for many years. We could not seem to get along. I had a great relationship with my adopted father. In the back of my mind I wanted to search for my birth mom, but felt like I'd be betraying my parents. Finally when I was in my late twenties my mom and I were able to get along and I felt it was time to start my search.
We had moved to Colorado when I was 17 and I knew my birth family was in Alaska. I decided to write the editor of a statewide newspaper in Alaska. They sent my letter back and told me they would be glad to help me, but that I had to leave the names out. I quickly rewrote the letter and within a couple of weeks I heard from native enrollment rolls in Juneau. They sent me my birth mom's enrollment and on that form was listings for four siblings. I began calling directory assistance and after several tries was able to locate my older brother - I couldn't understand him very well because the connection was very poor. He apparently ran over to his uncle's house and his uncle (my uncle too) called me back. He wasn't sure what my birth mom's number was but said he'd find out and call me back. I was so nervous and excited waiting. Within a couple of hours when the phone rang I answered, it was my birth mom. We were both crying and excited. We talked for a couple of hours. It was awesome hearing her voice for the first time at age 29. All those years of wondering what she sounded like.
I received a letter from her soon after that with about ten photographs. I found out that I actually had four brothers and four sisters. It was so awesome! I remember growing up as an only child I always asked for a brother or sister for Christmas or my birthday. I treasure those photos. I wish that she would send more as the ones I have are about ten years old now.
Several months later my birth mom called and told me she was going to Seattle, Washington and wondered if I could drive up there to meet her. "Heck yes!", I said. I was so nervous about telling my parents about this because I still felt like I'd be betraying them. My dad was happy for me, my mom too, but I could feel that she was hesitate about it.
I had three small children (under age 5) and didn't feel I could travel that far with them by myself. Their dad kept the two younger ones (ages 1 and 3) here at home and I took my oldest, Kacey. The drive up there was filled with anticipation. We finally arrived at the motel where my birth mom was at. We jumped out of the car and nervously knocked on the door. She answered, we both cried out "You have my eyes!" and then we hugged and cried. Kacey and I spent five days there getting to know her and her husband and her adopted daughter. It was an awesome experience and it went by all too quick.
My birth mom, Kacey and Me
Clara, Kacey and me
She told me how her and my father met. She was a waitress at a cafe in Barrow. My birth father would come in there and flirt with her. She was not interested in him because he was white and didn't think her parents would approve of her dating a white man. One day one of her friends asked her to go on a double date with her and wouldn't tell her who her date would be. It was my father. She said she was going to leave right then and there, but her friend talked her into staying. They hit it off and fell in love. They were married the day before he was killed. She told me when he would take off in his plane he would fly over their house and she would always run out on the porch. He would tip his wing at her to wave.
She has not had an easy life from what I saw. After my father was killed she remarried a Airforce A2C and moved to Smyrna, Tennessee. It was there she had 3 of my brothers and sisters. She left him while pregnant with one of my brothers and returned to Alaska. She put the two younger kids up for adoption and raised the two older ones. She remarried again and had three more children. I don't know the circumstances behind that divorce, but she remarried and is still with her husband.
When I returned home my parents were happy for me that I got to meet my birth mom. I told them that I was glad they adopted me and that I loved them both very much. This relieved my mom. She was afraid that after meeting my birth mom that I'd lose all touch with her. My father died 3 weeks after we got back on July 8, 1988.
My uncle Richard, the one that I spoke with while trying to locate my birth mom, and I spoke on the phone regularly. I wish I could have met him, he was a very sweet man. My birth mom told me that he had "died" when he was younger and they had revived him. He had some brain damage due to lack of oxygen. I always looked forward to his calls and on July 8, 1989 he too died.
Since going on-line I have been in touch with six of my brothers and sisters.They all live in Alaska and I'm still down here in Colorado. So far of a distance! In April of 1997 my two youngest children and I drove to Las Vegas and met my youngest sister Phillis, her husband Jim and their daughter, Sydney, while they were vacationing. It was an awesome experience. Then in September of 2001 I had the opportunity to fly to Alaska and met all four of my brothers and another sister. It all went by too quickly and hopefully I will get to return in February of 2003 to meet my new grand baby that is due at the end of January.
Legacy of an Adopted Child
Once there were two women, who never knew each other. One you do not remember, the other you call Mother. Two different lives, shaped to make you one. One became your guiding star, the other became your sun.
The first one gave you life, and the second taught you to live it. The first gave you a need for love, the second was there to give it. One gave you a nationality, the other gave you a name. One gave you a talent, the other gave you aim.
One gave you emotions, the other calmed your fears. One saw your first sweet smile, the other dried your tears. One sought for you a home, that she could not provide. The other prayed for a child, and her hope was not denied.
And now you ask me through your tears, the age old question unanswered through the years. Heredity or environment, which are you a product of? Neither my Darling, neither. Just two different kinds of love.
Author unknown
Thanks Leandra -Leandra's Place
Click HERE to go back to True Stories
View My Guestbook
Sign My Guestbook
Thank you :)
©1997 - present
Grumpy's Gathering Place
Web Design by Grumpy2nAM
Counter added 6/24/03
