In February 2002 I reached out to the Ohio Adoptee Service searching for my biological mother. Just 4 years earlier in August 1999 I reached out to the Hamilton County Children Service to do a background check. HCCS sent me back a letter of non-identifying information. With this information in hand the Ohio Adoptee Service was able to find my step-brother in Tampa Florida who immediately called my birth mother. My stepbrother was extremely surprised to be hearing about a step-sister who had died at birth. Within 24 hours I was sitting on the couch, in a one bedroom apartment, meeting my biological mother for the first time.
My biomom (as my children and I call her) was 41 years old when she gave birth to me. I am told, in those days, it was considered very old to be giving birth. After four failed marriages, two older teenage boys, one too many one night stands, and having a child without a father; adoption seemed to be the only option.
Just recently she celebrated her 85th birthday. In the past few months she has been spending more and more time in the hospital. On visits to her apartment the signs of age where all around and my worry for her grew stronger. I reached out to her only son still alive asking what should be done. (Her eldest son had passed away four months before we met.) Sharing my concerns about his mother he responded in his words not mine by saying, “she is way too stubborn, she will die in that apartment”. Somehow I was not very surprised by his tone and with that we ended the only conversation I have ever had with him. My step-brother has had opportunities to meet me but choose alcohol instead.
While visiting her this last time in the hospital the doctors and nurses told me she should no longer live alone. In an awkward moment I acknowledged and agreed with their concern but let them know I was only her biological daughter and really had no authority other than being a friend.
Like bee’s to honey, people swarmed in and suddenly a son who didn’t really seem to care has her moving to Florida. I would like to think it is because he truly loves his mother and he truly wants to take care of her. But 10 years of talking with my biomom has me wondering if it has more to do with money than love. My biomom moved her friend from WA down to ohio, gave her the apartment and signed over her car. She flew her son in from Florida, pack up and just like as quickly as she came into my life, she has move away. She is gone.
For 10 years I did my best to call my biomom once a week. We have spent some holidays together and some summers grilling out. We never visited with each other as much as we talked with each other. We never had a mother daughter relationship, as I already had a mother. But we were friends. Every week I listened to the same stories over and over. I listened to how she had two son’s; mostly only talked about the one who is still living. I heard about her daughter-in-law, step-sisters and grandchildren. I received some pictures of her past. I gave her pictures of my present. I always remained as gentle, kind and forgiving as I could be. I never asked anything of her other than a picture. Even on the day she was found I only asked she send me a picture. She asked that we meet.
She never remembered my birthday and never speaks of me as family. She thinks my boys are good and from the day she met my husband has been in love with him. Literly! Recently saying if she was younger she would marry him. She has outlived most of her friends and hasn’t been in the same state as her son for 37 years. She has given all she can to her family, remained stubborn and strong willed.
Yesterday, once again over the phone, I said goodbye! I wished her well. She said she would call when she got settled and I am sure she will. For me it just seems like a final goodbye. Our calls will be few and far between. I am not sure I will ever see her again. My heart tells me I will not. She is much too old and frail now to come back and will most likely live her final years with her son.
So to you I say Goodbye. Thank you for the 10 years, phone conversations, making sense of why my oldest son had strawberry blonde hair, giving me a picture of my biological father, making hard decisions and living with them, always saying K-Marxs and Wal-Marks, living a hard life and never giving up, most of all being a friend to a stranger who once was a physical part of you.
Luv, luv,
Julie
