Sad News...

I got the call this morning from Hospice.. Daddy passed away at 11:00am. His health had been declining over the last few weeks and I was getting updates almost daily on his condition. Although not a surprise it is still a very sad day nonetheless. I phoned "The Son" (whom I haven't spoken with in forever) and let him know. It was the appropriate thing to do. He broke down and my heart ached for his loss, as well.

For all of you who followed our journey, thank you for all your kind words and prayers along the way. For you that may have missed it, you can find the saga in the "Best Of Full Circle".

It was a heck of a ride..

I'm trying to focus on the blessings.. there are so many. After 25 years we were reunited, I got to visit him on several occasions, look him in the eye and forgive him and I got to say goodbye (just to name a few).



God bless you, Daddy. I hope Uncle Mel and all your loved ones were there to greet you (and you can dance and sing once again). I will miss you always..

Love,
Your Little Seesa

Yet Another Cool Update..

I got a call yesterday from Hospice. Since my trip Dad has been PUTTING ON WEIGHT! He's eating and not depressed!!! I got to "talk" to him on the phone and he was in great spirits. His wonderful nurse put up a little Xmas tree and they decorated it with ornaments (he even got a Santa hat--it's keeping his head warm and he's loving it). I'm going to put together a little care package for him and send it directly to his hospice nurse to take to him.

How cool is THAT?? Thanks for the prayers, all!! They've worked!

God is good!

Dad & Me ~ The Final Chapter

Life is not a Hallmark made for TV movie. Things don't always get wrapped up in a neat little package with everyone getting their happily ever afters. It can be messy, stressful and downright dramatic. We don't necessarily get what we want when we want it. As frustrating as that is, my faith tells me to let it go .. it's out of my hands.

No easy task for this mere, very imperfect mortal.

A month ago I started to retell the story of Daddy and me because I received a call from hospice (his caregiver at the nursing home). I was told he did not have much time left and his arrangements needed to be made soon. He's not suffering from a terminal illness but has been going downhill for sometime. Refusing to eat, he had lost weight and was depressed. It's a call I've been expecting but I don't think anyone is ever really ready for.

My heart broke.

When it's all said and done, despite the hurt caused by Dad leaving Mama and me, it's not about that. It's about a little girl that will always love her Daddy. He's the man that taught me road trips are awesome, ran beside me when my training wheels came off (shouting, "Go Baby GO!" as I blazed away on my Big Girl Bike), played catch outside until it was so dark we could barely see the ball, taught me to drive, was a pro at checkers,

Proudly showed me off on vacation


Made Christmas Magical


Indulged my love of horses and took me to lessons every Saturday morning for years


Was front and center for my First Communion


And after 7 years of cotillions waltzed with his little debutante.


I've gotten a glimpse at how our foster kiddos feel.. in most cases they see past their parents' faults and wrongdoings. No matter what your age, you never stop loving your family. It's innocent and very child-like but it is what it is. Familia.

Too weak now to be placed in a wheelchair, my once active father is completely bed ridden. He will never get the chance to feel the sun on his face, hop in the car and go to the store or even take a deep breath of fresh air. His only visitors are the lovely hospice nurses.

That kills me.

I've been asked if I felt this journey was all for not and if I regret being reunited with him after 20 years. I wasn't able to swoop in and save the day, justice has not been served (nor will it be in his lifetime). Yes, Dad pulled a massive midlife crisis, walked away from our family only to create a new one that wouldn't be there for him in the end. Did he make his own bed? Maybe. Does he deserve this?

In my book, absolutely not.

I've had the opportunity to visit him on several occasions over the past few years. I got to look him in the eye and tell him I forgive him. Although he can hardly speak, 2 weeks ago he was able to call me, "My Baby", reach out and caress my cheek. I got to see him and (in my heart) say a final, proper goodbye.

Knowing now what all went down, would I do this all again?

In a heartbeat.

I love you, Daddy. Always.

Dad & Me Revisited Part 9

Inhale...

As ya'll can imagine, the moment in the parking lot when the detective informed me the case was closed completely changed the course of my relationship with The Son. Probably forever. I didn't have to cut ties with him because he stopped calling or emailing. He knew darn well the jig was up. Having been chewed out (in a huge way) by me before he sure didn't want to face my wrath this time.

Smart kid.

Granted (remember I've harped on this before) he was only 18. Legally an adult but very much just a child. Back in good graces with a family that had deserted him, he chose himself over Dad. Self preservation.. it's a trait we all have and undoubtedly something he learned to master from She Devil.

I often wonder if, say 10 years from now, The Son will look back and realize the incredibly bad choices he made. If he will feel remorse for taking advantage of Best Friends Grandma and being so disrespectful to her. Will he think back sadly to all the times he should've visited Dad and chose not to?

I think he will and honestly, that makes me sad.

On the flipside, I firmly believe you reap what you sow. By all accounts She Devil and Lazy Husband are in for a whopper of a bumper crop. Wouldn't you all agree? It's not a matter of if but when. You can't pull the stunts like they did and walk away Scot free. They will get theirs and that is where I find peace.

Exhale? Not yet.. I've got one more thing to say..

Dad & Me Part 8

Once The Son got all settled into his best friends Grandma's house, school began. Bless her heart, she got him to every appointment imaginable.. from the dentist, to the doctor and he even got his drivers license. School clothes, supplies, senior portraits.. he well on his way to having a wonderful, normal senior year.

Out of nowhere, his relatives started coming out of the woodwork. Grandparents (from his Mom's side), Aunts, Uncles and cousins. Where they had been hiding out the previous couple of years is beyond me (don't even get me started) but they suddenly came out en mass. Could it of been She Devil sending out the Red Alert?

I'm sure it was.

Mind you, the entire time all this was going down, NONE of his family knew I was involved. He didn't want any issues because they all thought She Devil was an innocent princess and he was afraid of yet more retaliation.

Talk about heads in sand, right??!

Family chatter buzzed about Poor She Devil.. she was being harassed by the local police and had done nothing wrong. Of course, the version they all heard was the spin about how she stepped up and tried to help Dad. And The Son..

Blah Blah Blah.. Cry Cry Cry..

As senior year rolled on, The Son lived up to the teenager reputation. When he got his license, his Grandpa gave him an old truck and he was all about cruisin' with his friends. I told him it was time he got a job (JUST LIKE I HAD TO) and he drug his feet for months. He started talking back to Best Friend's Grandma and on one occasion, when told he had to go visit Dad, refused.. saying he would rather hang out at the mall instead.

(Insert needle across album noise here) ~ 'Scuse me?

When I caught wind of THAT little episode let me state for the record that yes, I called and tore into him like I guarantee he had never been torn into before. I was DONE hearing his, "Poor Me" stories and only getting calls when he needed extra money for this and that (from Dad's account). Remember he cried over how he never got to see Dad and now that he could go at his own leisure he couldn't be bothered. The boy that I felt so badly for got every wish granted.. then turned into lippy little punk.

Nice.

In June of that year I flew out to visit Dad again. It was The Son's graduation day but I had long since decided I would not attend. Much to his delight, I'm sure--how would he explain THAT to his family?

Auntie, Best Friend's Grandma and I checked Dad out of the nursing home and took him to his favorite restaurant. It was a wonderful time. He wrote on his note pad and kept asking me about the status of the criminal case against She Devil. I had not heard from the detective in quite some time (par for the course--he was nearly impossible to get a hold of) and made several attempts to reach him by phone.

By some stroke of luck, while in the restaurant parking lot I got the detective on the line. He seemed rather confused by my call and when I told him we were just checking in he informed me, "The case has been closed.. a few months ago, actually. The Son refused to give a statement.."

I about passed out.

The little rat, not wanting to get on his family's bad side (and continue riding Grandpa's Gravy Train) totally bailed on Dad.

The Son's new name? He Devil.

Dad & Me Part 7

PART SEVEN!? Really? Holy cow.. I apologize for the longer posts but if I keep them short and sweet (like I normally try to) we'll be at this for-evah!

Moving on..

The Son wanted out of She Devil's home asap but also wanted to stay in the same town. What kid wants to move weeks before his/her senior year of high school? I didn't blame him a bit.

The Son's best friend lived with his grandma and the kids had been tight since the second grade. She said she adored him (and Dad) since they first met and was very nice. We became fast friends via phone calls and emails. Although her gut feeling was the living situation wasn't optimal there had been no proof and the subject was never broached. Completely appalled when let in on the true happenings, she wanted nothing more than to make The Son's senior year the best one ever. He would move in with them.. no ifs, ands or buts about it.

We devised a plan and our version of shock and awe commenced.

Early one Saturday morning several pickup trucks showed up unannounced at She Devil's apartment. The Son was adamant neither she nor Lazy Husband had a clue as he was afraid of some type of retaliation. With good reason. Husband was outraged and let everyone know it. Obviously seeing his meal ticket checking out the raving began (and didn't stop). On the Son's heels, he ranted and bullied about what an unappreciative, little weasel his young brother in law really was. After everything they had done for HIM, how dare he pull a disrespectful stunt like that..

Blah Blah Blah.

Surprisingly She Devil cried and helped him pack. It came off as her having an, "Ah HA!" moment. Had the realization finally kicked in that she hadn't taken proper care of her little brother? Was it regret or perfectly timed tears? Could someone be so heartless?

Final Answer: Hello? It's She Devil..

Although this was the beginning of a new chapter in The Son's life, the Do Over he dreamt of, there was now a chink in his armour. The hour of She Devil's tears and display of remorse (MIA for the past several years) rocked him. Maybe she hadn't been as bad as he made her out to be. Maybe he had blown things out of proportion.

The one promise I had made Dad was that justice would prevail. She Devil and Lazy Husband were going DOWN. I had the evidence.. the detective had the statements in hand and the bank even provided photos taken of She Devil at the ATM machines withdrawing cash. All I needed was The Son to tell his side. He was our sole, star witness. Slam Dunk, right?

Of course not...

Dad & Me Revisited Part 6

The Son's story sadly unfolded. He confirmed many things that Dad was able to communicate to us. She Devil had fallen on hard times and asked if she, the husband and her children could move in until they got on their feet. They promised to pay rent (much unlike the story I heard later--her family was told that Dad asked them to move in to assist him-rent free, of course).

Some other high (er, LOW) lights..

**Not only were they helping themselves to Dad's ATM, they also had The Son's social security checks put into their names (calling themselves "guardians"). They were just rolling in money, weren't they?

**The Son had not been to a doctor or dentist in two years (they didn't have time to take him).

**Although 17 1/2 he wasn't driving yet.. he didn't even has his learners permit(again, no time).

**They wouldn't take him to see Dad because, you guessed it, who has the time?

**They hadn't bought him new clothes in forever and school was just about to start.

They had moved out of Dad's house and into an apartment. The Son went along.. where else was he to go? I about fell out of my chair when he told me they put their young son in his own room but The Son (almost a legal adult) was rooming with their 8 year old DAUGHTER.. WHAAAAAATTT???

For the record he was not comfortable with that.

It was common for them to eat dinner before he got home (he swore he wasn't rolling in all that late) and just leave a note directing him to leftovers. Often they took off as a family and left him behind.

He was pretty much fending for himself.

The Son had nothing nice to say about She Devil's husband (making it sound like all the bad things they had done were his idea). I wasn't buying it but kept my opinions to myself. They let Dad's house go to H.E.Double.Hockey.Sticks (the inside was trashed and when something happened to the sprinkler system they wouldn't fix it--the once lush yard was overgrown and burned). It was a wreck and they didn't give a hoot.

That crushed The Son.. it was his childhood home. Oh and She Devil's also but it must not of held the same sentimental value. Not uncommon for the heartless..

I digress..

The more we talked the more comfortable he became. My heart softened and was mush as his story unraveled. Dad had mentioned me once or twice but I was pretty much a ghost of the past (ya, that reality continues to hurt, let me tell ya). He wanted out of their home and begged me to help him. I was totally on board and was going to do everything I could to make it happen.

I went home that night and retold the sad tale to DH. We decided that if that poor kid had no place to go, by golly, we would move him here. That's how you take care of family. You have their backs and are there when the chips are down (even if you've never laid eyes on them). Right? RIGHT?!

Um, no.. not always..

Dad & Me Revisited Part 5

I needed help getting She Devil and her brood out of Dad's house. I wanted to remain off the radar for as long as possible.. never in a million years would she of suspected I was now a player in the game (and I wanted to keep it that way). The County (thrilled that I was helping) came to my assistance. A person of authority left a message for her stating they needed to speak ASAP. Probably figuring her con had run it's course, she actually returned the call. Wow, right? She was advised they needed to vacate the property immediately and they complied.

Easy schmeasy.

After they moved and I had the Power Of Attorney finally in hand, I went about the business of shutting down unnecessary accounts. Gas, water, cable, electric. It was no surprise it took longer than anticipated. Phone calls made, POA faxed, waiting for days for approval to take over the accounts. With everything slowing getting shut off, what was the one thing that sent The Son into a tirade and come a callin'?

No cell phone service, of course.

By then I had been on the scene for a couple of months. I was speaking to the nursing home reps almost daily and we had established a good rapport. I was their key to payment and they had the power to let him stay (or make him go). As long as we were making progress, they were happy. We needed each other and Dad needed all of us to play nice.

About a day after I had the cell phones shut off is when it really hit the fan. I got a call at work from one of my nursing home contacts and there was urgency in her voice. The Son had shown up.. with a posse. There was shouting in the back round. Some lady was yelling about lawyering up.. it was utter chaos.

Bring it.

I calmly asked her to tell them to pipe down and put him on the phone. Boy howdy, was he peeved. He demanded to know who in the (bleepity bleep) I was and what in the (bleepity bleep) was going on. I waited for his tirade to pass. When he finally stopped yelling I asked him if he was done. He said yes and I proceeded to introduce myself, "I'm Melissa, Dad's daughter" ..

DEAD SILENCE. He knew exactly who I was and that rocked him.

Firmly (but totally in control) I railed on him. Amongst other things I wanted him to know what I thought of what he, She Devil and her husband did to Dad. Where had HE been? Why did it take his cell phone getting cut off to get him to the nursing home? Dad had seen him once (the home had requested they bring something for him to wear and The Son had brought USED clothes-I kid you not). I was purging the previous few months of frustration and wasn't so nice about it. When I was done once again, there was dead silence. Then he cried, quietly told me his side of the story and my heart broke.

And I felt about ----> <---- big...

Dad & Me Revisited ~ A Recap

Before continuing on I wanted to take a breather and say a few things..

For all of you that are just joining us I've been telling the tale of Daddy and me. What does that have to do with fostering or fostering to adopt? Nothing. But it is a part of my journey I wanted to share. There's actually a moral to the story and to be quite honest, I need the (free) therapy writing provides.

I double dog swear this started out as one or two posts and.. well.. in true bloggy fashion, has morphed into a saga. Here are the first four parts to get you up to speed:

Dad & Me Revisited

Dad & Me Revisited Part 2

Dad & Me Revisited Part 3

Dad & Me Revisited Part 4

Admittedly, I have been struggling with how to tell the next series of events. I want to be fair (but another part of me wants to throw a certain someone under the bus and expose them for all it's worth). I've spoken to family members, close friends and have prayed on just how much I want/need to tell. It's not cool to bash someone just for the sake of doing so (knowing full well they cannot defend themselves). I have no doubt at the end of the day, I would feel badly for lashing out. There are always several sides to a story (although mine is the correct version, right?).

;o)

Please bear in mind when all of this really started to go down, it was just weeks before The Son's senior year of high school. 17 is a selfish, know-it-all, self righteous age. It has been the one thing I have had to remind myself over and over (andoverandoverandover) again.

I believe one day years from now The Son look back with many regrets and poor decisions made will haunt him...

Dad & Me Revisited Part 4

With the help of my Uncle and Auntie, I became Dad's Power of Attorney. Finally, we could bust into his accounts and get a clearer picture of what all was going down financially. The nursing home was chomping at the bit.. for the year he had been there he owed them over $40,000 and obviously that amount grew daily. The bank account should of been relatively untouched (except for the automatic house and car payments) with several thousand sitting in there. His pension and social security had been direct deposited that whole time. I had hopes of writing the facility a check to knock that balance down a bit. So what was the account balance? -$400

I almost threw up.

On top of adding online bill pay to cover all their incidentals, She Devil and her husband helped themselves to Dad's ATM card. What happens when you withdraw more than what's really in there? Penalties. There were pages and pages of overdraft penalties.

Mind you, Dad had been with this financial institution for roughly 50 years. I won't name names so we'll just call them Mel's Cargo. In those five decades of banking, the account was pristine and he did not ever bounce a check. Not once. So how on God's green earth could over one year's worth of overdraft continue to go on without any red flags? It was thousands of dollars in penalties. Why wasn't some type of freeze put on the account for investigation? How about even a phone call?? Their answer: It was DAD'S responsibility to monitor his account. Um, hello? Dumped at a nursing home, can't talk, can't walk, hasn't gotten mail in over a year. How, prey tell, was he supposed to do that?

*Crickets*

They had no answer but still stood behind their policy.

Mel's Cargo & I went roundy-round. Undeterred, I still opened up a fraud investigation against She Devil and her hubby for elder abuse with the bank and the local police department. I poured over all the bills and paperwork and picked out everything that was not legit. The next few months was chock full of spending hours on hold, leaving messages that went unanswered and being bounced from one person to the next. Red tape galore. Still I held fast that justice would prevail. Why? Aside from the truth I had Dad's high school aged son on my team and he was going to help as a witness.

Or so I thought..

Dad & Me Revisited Part 3

After finding out where Dad was living, the following weekend my Uncle and Auntie made the 2 hour drive to surprise him. It was a day of great joy and sadness. Heartbreaking to see a man once large and in charge unable to care for himself. In the year he had been dumped at the nursing home, one neighbor had come to visit. He had been outside and off the property once. They loaded him and his wheelchair up in the car, went out to eat and to Walmart. He really wanted a beer (had to settle for the root variety) and soaked up the fresh air and sunshine like a sponge.

He was in 7th Heaven.

The following month I visited. He knew I was coming but we showed a day early to surprise him. The three of us walked into his room (he was still in bed even though the nurses knew we were coming) and he was thrilled to see them. He nodded politely at me, not knowing who I was. It had been 20 years. I'll never ever forget the moment standing next to his bed when I said, "Hi Daddy, it's me.. Seesa.." (my childhood nickname). He grabbed my hands and rubbed them on his cheeks and cried.

We all cried. A lot.

I had grand plans of swooping in and saving the day. She Devil and her family were still living (more like squatting) in his home, completely leaching off of him. His monthly checks were direct deposited and somehow.. magically.. all the bills were being paid online. Mortgage, car payment, gas, electric, ALL their cell phones. Did I mention they got hold of his ATM card and helped themselves whatever cash was leftover? They had a nice little con going on (and a voiceless victim). I was about to put the kibosh on all that. And fast.

Dad's one wish was to have them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. It's called Elder Abuse and that would be a felony. You can't dump a human being and steal everything right out from under them and get away Scot-free. Justice had to prevail, right?

Wrong. In a big way.

Dad & Me Revisited Part 2

.. But before I spoke to the county the next day...

I called my Uncle (Dad's brother) and Auntie that night to tell them the news. Although they had accepted The Wife and did their best to play nice, Dad still managed to fall out of their lives several years prior. After a big loan, as a matter of fact. Yes, he hurt us all in different ways but time and forgiveness had healed those wounds. We still held hope we would see him again and prayed he was ok.

Sadly, I found out his life had not stopped spiralling out of control.

Remember the little girl I mentioned in my previous post? The Wife's young daughter she had from a previous relationship that I felt sorry for? I've gotta say, as the story unfolded that sympathy went out like the wash. The poor little girl Dad raised as his own had turned into a She Devil.

No joke.

So, why was the county trying to track down someone who knew Dad? Come to find out, a year before he had suffered a stroke that rendered him paralyzed on one side and wheelchair bound. She Devil and her husband (who had moved into Dad's house with their kids before the stroke) took him from the hospital when he was released directly to the nursing home. They literally dumped him there like yesterday's trash never to be heard from again.

She Devil is an understatement.

The facility had his medical records but needed, you know, the incidentals .. like information for PAYMENT. Dad had been there for must over a year and they were unable to contact her (she couldn't seem to find time to return phone calls) and his unpaid tab at the nursing home was $40,000 and climbing. They were desperate. They needed information about his social security and pension and tap into it pronto or the county would become his power of attorney and liquidate.

Did I mention she and her family continued living in his home rent free the entire time?

Dad couldn't speak but was able to write with his bad hand. When the county asked him for names of family or friends to contact that he thought may assist him I have no doubt the list was very short. He scratched out my name. Last he heard I had moved to CO (but that was 1990).

And he waited.

My heart broke when I heard his story. My head spun. No matter what he had pulled in the past he didn't deserve that. He went from being a pompous, prideful man to one who couldn't even form words. All alone. I tried to look on the bright side. At least things couldn't get any worse, right?

Boy, was I wrong...

Dad & Me Revisited

Some of you may remember my dad and our little saga. For you who don't .. my senior year of high school he decided to pull a big, fat midlife crisis and took up with a gal in her late 20's (mind you, he was in his 60's). Mom tried really hard to keep the marriage together (counselling, etc) but to no avail.. their 30 year marriage was over.

Mama purchased a nice condo and lived well within her means. Dad (who was once just as much of a penny pincher as she) married the girlfriend and proceeded to spend every last dime (and then some). Their relationship was drug and alcohol fueled and spiralled madly out of control. In the midst of the hell he continued putting Mama through (constantly trying to take her back to court after the divorce) he wanted me to give The Wife a chance. I won't even repeat the words I used in my reply (but they went something like $$$%@%! $@@&% $&^#%@!! So on and so forth). He walked away from me and didn't look back.

We heard about them through the grapevine as time went by. Dad had a few heart attacks (it's no wonder-considering the life they led), lost their custom home to foreclosure and cars got repoed. She had a young daughter from a previous relationship and in the early 90's they had a son together. When I heard that I truly felt sorry for the kids. I couldn't even imagine their home life.

Before Mama passed away we heard that The Wife had died. She was still quite young (not even 40 yet) and we assumed it was cancer. Dad was nearing his 70's raising a 5 year old boy. So wrong. Years later I would find out that it wasn't cancer but chronic alcoholism that took her life. The booze killed her. I still can't fathom how much drinking it takes to have that happen.

Our lives marched on..

In the spring of 2007 (20 years after their nightmare began), I got a letter in the mail from a county in California. It read, "We are contacting you in hopes you may know (Insert Dad's Name Here) as we are attempting to find family members or friends. If you know him please contact immediately at ..."

The following day I called...

Inhale..

Jack and Jill have been here for over 2 1/2 months now and one thing is for certain .. no two nights are ever the same. Although typically on their best behaviour and little darlings there are things that set them off. Total triggers (yes, they're being documented). Last week, for example, we had one humongous melt down (Jack, not me). It was bad. It was a rage that we likend to a purging but (thanks to our fantastic training by the county and follow up support) I recognized it for what it was and remained calm.

A feat in and of itself.

I was also very aware I was living a Super Nanny episode. No joke. For the record I would much rather sit and watch the show than lug a kicking and screeching 35 pounder onto a naughty chair for over an hour. Oh yeah, I wasn't too fond of all the toys and folded laundry thrown at me, either. Two things I learned that night: 1) Jo Jo's methods are spot on and 2) I am so out of shape it's not even funny.

Remember that big meeting I was dreading a couple weeks back? The one I hoped and prayed would get cancelled and it did due to a blizzard? It got rescheduled.. to tomorrow. DH cannot make it and I'm on my own. Prayers please!!

Did I mention my dad had a pacemaker implanted earlier this week (he's in a nursing home out of state)? I got a call tonight as we were wrapping up our soiree with three social workers that came a-callin' (a planned meeting) that he has been moving his arm around (just like he wasn't supposed to) and pulled a wire. He goes back in for surgery tomorrow.

Oy.

It has been an exhausting week (and we're only half way through). The good news is we're keeping our noses above water level (thanks to Nantie!) and hey, I guess we can't complain about is being bored, right?

Exhale..

My Spin On Nature Versus Nurture

I remember back in the day watching an episode of Sally Jesse (you know, when she was legit and her red specs were all the rage) and being mesmerized by that certain day's topic.. adoptees searching for their birth families. Although not told of their adoption growing up, they just knew waaayy deep down that they didn't "belong" and felt no real connection to the family they grew up in. Their puzzle pieces fell into place when their family finally fessed up and the search for their "real family" began. To this day I remember thinking how empty their lives must have been but come on, their real family was who raised and loved them all those years. It was sad to see them get dissed.

Although the plan from the get go was to tell me of my adoption, a few months after I was placed my parents swore family and friends to secrecy. They had fallen head over heels in love with me and I was their child.. end of discussion. My mom may have been 4'11" and 95 lbs soaking wet (a crazy red head, to boot) but you did not cross her. No doubt, all feared the Hell Fire that would ensue.

Unlike the SJR guests, I never felt unattached from my family or that I didn't belong. I think that is one of the things that really threw me for a loop when I found out. I am so my Mama's daughter (physically and emotionally) it isn't even funny. As an adult I would hold my hand up to hers and marvel at how they were identical (except I could never grow nails and hers were beautiful). I worry like she did, I suffer from "mother hen" syndrome and love to cook and take care of my family and friends like she did.. and I must also admit, I'm a horrible driver just like she was.

I remember the moment like it was yesterday.. Have you ever ridden in a car where the driver taps their foot lightly on the accelerator while cruising along and causes you to lurch forward? I would constantly yell at her I was going to hurl if she didn't stop it and she would declare I was crazy. Fast forward .. my best friend Bren is visiting for New Years and we're headed to LoDo (Lower Downtown Denver) to whup it on and ring in '01. She starts yelling at me that I'm going to make her yak if I don't stop tapping the accelerator. I had to laugh BUT hey, at least I believed her. Now every time I'm the driver and she is the passenger I try to stay on cruise control as much as possible..

Not only do I look like Dad, I act like him, too.

I know the great debate over Nature vs Nurture will rage on forever but my little humble "o" is our personalities are very much the result of who we are raised by. I think we do pick up many character traits (good and bad, obviously) by the people that we are closest to.

That being said, our plan is to let our little ones know they are adopted (if they're too young to remember being placed with us). I'm a firm believer that they should have contact with birth relatives (if it's reasonable and safe to do so) and have no intention of cutting off their family ties if at all possible.

Hopefully we are stronger than Mom and Dad..

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Dad's 78th birthday was this past Sunday. I can't express how very blessed I feel to have him back in my life. The picture was taken last month when I went out to California for a visit. We went to his favorite restaurant in Hemet (Polly's Pies) along with family (Aunt Jan and Jeri) and let him roll through the the aisles at Walmart. It's amazing how such a simple day out can mean so much. I don't care if I'm ---><--- close turning 40, I'll always be my Daddy's Girl. I love you, Dad.

Parallel Lives

Exactly 39 years ago, Mom and Dad were floating in the exact adoption boat we in are today. All their classes were completed, the back round checks done, they finished their home study and (I found out recently), Mama actually went to work as a nanny part time to get a handle on being a mommy. They had just received their certification and were awaiting "the call" from the county.

Back then, infertility was an embarrassment and I'm told Mama felt shameful for not being able to carry a baby to term. It wasn't something openly discussed (not in our family, anyway) and adoption was no where near the rage it is nowadays. Things were different back then and, as cold as it sounds today, they wanted a child that looked like them. Although Mom was Mexican, she had auburn hair, brown eyes and freckles and Daddy was a Euro mix with blond hair and blue eyes. They wanted a child that fit into that groove .. Apparently, they didn't want anyone to question my lineage at the grocery store..

In July of 1969, their call came. I was a month old and living in what has been described as a county home. I'm not sure if that was like an orphanage or a foster home. In my non-id info an excerpt from our first meeting was noted. It is written that the moment Mom and Dad saw me there were tears of joy as I was scooped up, held and cooed over. It was love at first sight. Dad's comment was that they were on, "Cloud Nine" and Mama beamed through her tears. The workers gave them my formula, went over my daily routine and loaded Dad down with diapers and other essentials. I went home with them that very day and everyone involved was thrilled.

Fast forward to 2008. Here we sit, waiting for our vote this Wednesday for certification. Another "ancient" couple ready to open their hearts and home to a child (or children). Yet again, I'm wishing Mama was here to be a part of our journey and to hear of hers. It's times like this that make me miss her even more...