Member-only story
The Risks Involved In Finding Family
Reunions Can Be Painful And Confusing For All
My mother told me my sister would be calling me. This was fine, except I was 36 years old when I found out I had a sister.
Avoidance is my mother’s middle name. She eventually was going to tell me, my mother said, but my half-sister sped up the timetable for my mother. My newly discovered half-sister planned to call me whether or not my mother had warned me beforehand. Susan had located me, living in another state under a married name. Her goal was to introduce herself to me and break the news that my mother had given up her first daughter for adoption.
My mother refused to reconnect with Susan. My mother had decided to bury her in the grave of painful memories when my grandparents (primarily my grandmother, I believe) made her go to the Salvation Army’s Home for Unwed Mothers. So, when my half-sister, Susan, telephoned me, there was no exhumation for my mother.
When I learned about the adoption, I was horrified at the thought that my family would give up a baby like some families take a dog to the pound. So, I felt compelled to serve as an ambassador for my family and offer reparation for their poor judgment.
With my husband and young son in tow, I met Susan and ate lunch with her and her family. My…
