Tuesday, October 14, 2014

The First Call with Wayne

The day I called Wayne was not much different from today. The wind chime on my front porch was dancing with its beautiful melody, a stranger to consistency.  I had been to Home Depot that morning, left empty handed, and had ice cream for lunch in lieu of what "good" people eat- a tomato sandwich or soup or salad.

And just like today, the sun was marveling though it was not particularly hot outside, it's rays beat through the curtains as if making a mockery of them. I was sitting on the green couch as I am now.

I didn't expect to hear from Wayne so soon. I didn't expect to hear from him at all.

Resume the conversation.

I told him of my birth to Colette, the shoddy records I was given, and later adoption. It went like this.

How do you know that Colette is your birth mother? Are you positive?

With the help of some "search angels" as they are fondly coined by the adoption community, and the paperwork that I was given by the Children's Home Society, the agency that handled the adoption, we worked for many hours to find her. The angels worked tirelessly and for free. And I enlisted my friends who wanted to help, and ultimately, Debi found her. The angels are the ones who do the search and all for free. The are somehow tied to adoption, and feel called to help adoptees and birth mothers find their loved ones.

If you recall, I didn't want to say the name of the person who gave us her name. Mainly because I told her I would not. But in light of her non-response to me or others who have reached out to her on my behalf, I don't see that I need to keep it a secret any more. The cat is out of the bag. Meow.

Debi was calling people who went to her elementary school, and happened to call one of her childhood friends who had known about the pregnancy. She had told her later in life on a beach trip they took together. Little did she know, I'd come looking. Little did she know she would be a recipient of a phone call from Debi asking her questions like, "Did you go to elementary school with a girl who had an older sister who was a physical therapist, who is 8 years older, and has a brother who is 9 years older, who is in sales? Her mother was a homemaker and her father worked for a large manufacturing company." We later found out the company was Dupont.

Little did she know that giving Debi her name would have caused all of this. I have to thank Nancy. She thought she was doing the right thing, God bless her. She worked for an adoption agency herself, and couldn't fathom going her whole life without knowing her offspring. So out of love for humanity, she gave us her name- first and last, maiden and married. Nancy didn't know what she was doing. She hadn't thought it all out. She probably regrets it now, judging by her avoidance of me at all costs. Years now. She refuses any contact. I'm sure it was prompted by an angry Colette. Either way, what's done is done.

Back to the conversation at hand.

I've written to Colette a few times, and emailed once or twice, but then she resigned from her  job. (I had heard from Nancy that her job was very stressful, but I didn't mention that to Wayne. Might appear too much for the first phone call.) She's never written me back, Wayne, and I'm just calling to confirm that I have the correct address as, ______________. I've been worried that maybe she didn't get my letters, or that someone had intercepted them. A mind makes up scenarios when it doesn't have definite answers. 

Well Brooke, I just don't know if she's received them or not. She's trying to downsize right now, and I'm helping her to sell her house. I don't know the exact address off hand (bullshit), but I see her about every week. She's been going through a lot personally over the past few years. She's newly single. (I appreciate that description. It's less harsh than divorced- which signifies with a lifetime of shame until one is remarried, if one is still inclined to try again.)

Is she in good health? I muttered quickly, as if to make up my own mind that it was my fault if she wasn't.

Yes. She's healthy. No issues there.

It would be helpful for me to have health information from her, so that I could take any preventative measures I could. It would be helpful for my daughter, Sarah. She is 7. She's in good health too, but just to be safe. It's good to know any family history.

Oh, you have a daughter? That's great.

(Totally escaping the question of family medical history. In my mind he was making light of the need for family medical history- even though the medical community finds it incredibly valuable- hence they ask for it at every junction it seems.)

She's a trip with blond hair. I heard that my birth father had blond hair, which reminds me. I'd like to know who he is. I think it's only fair, for whatever fairness stands for.

Well, I'm not sure if I even knew about this. I may have been told about this a long time ago, but it's been so long, that I'm not sure now. I've been married to my wife (he didn't say your aunt) for a long time. (He didn't give me an exact number however.)

Awkward silence.

Wayne, I don't know if you know what it's like to grow up not knowing a single person who looks like you, sounds like you, has the same mannerisms as you. It hasn't been easy. I struggled with identity growing up, and I would say, I still struggle. I was nothing like my parents and often felt like they didn't understand me because we weren't biologically related. I love them. Please don't get it wrong. They are my parents who raised me and loved me no matter what.

I have a wonderful family who loves me unconditionally. I had all the opportunities that Colette wanted me to have- a stable two-parent family, a college education, and love. (All of this said with tears strolling down my face and a lump in my throat, while plopped down on a lawn chair in my driveway, while plucking leaves off a nearby overgrown bush like a child would be doing if she had gotten in trouble on the playground. My prior pacing had gotten me riled up. I figured I had better sit down and calm myself.)

Well actually, Brooke, I do know what it's like. 

My daughter is adopted. 

(I thought I had heard it all until now. Bells went off in my head.)

My first wife and I couldn't have children, so we decided to adopt, and she recently found her birth mother, and I helped facilitate the introduction. She came to me and asked me if I would be OK with her searching and we did it together. I knew how important it was for her, and I wanted to help her. We went through the agency and they were reunited, but we did everything by the book, the way the agency had instructed. We recognized the birth mothers' privacy was a concern, and we didn't want to jeopardize that. (How selfless. Although I think they just couldn't find her on their own is the real truth. They needed a Debi.) She still has a relationship with her. I don't think they see each other often, but they speak on the phone frequently.

Wow. What was that like? Her birth mother wanted to meet her?

Yes. It was nice. It helped to relieve my daughter of a lot of questions she had.

(Silence. My heart pounced with excitement. Had he just told me that? What are the odds?)

My first wife and I divorced, and I wasn't sure that I even wanted to remarry, but then I thought that I didn't want to grow old alone, and I when I began dating again, I wanted to make sure that the next woman I was with would be from a really good family. It was very important to me to find someone from a good upbringing, and I met my second wife, Colette's sister.

You come from a very good family Brooke. You couldn't have asked for a better family. They are good Christian people. Your grandparents were amazing people. They are both deceased, your grandmother died a few years ago. You grandfather died in the eighties of an accidental poisoning. (I knew that. He drank radiator fluid "accidentally". You know it's the color of Mountain Dew, and I heard it was in a Mountain Dew bottle or something like that. Obviously, I'm not sure of the exact story, but that's what Nancy told me had happened.) Your mother is a very nice woman. She had a great career, financially stable, has a family. She is now retired.

Yes, I heard that she has two sons both beginning with a Br, like Brooke. 

Oh? Interesting. (probably puzzled by the fact that I knew so much personal information.)

My adoptive grandparents have a lot in common with Colette's parents. My adopted paternal grandparents loved playing bridge, and my granddaddy was an instructor. He died in the eighties of cancer. My grandmother died when I was only 6. I can't remember too much of her, although I am told  by many what a wonderful and brilliant woman she was, that she could make almost anything with her hands, was very crafty, and graduated top of her class at Salem College here in North Carolina.  I think it still is. She was also in the Granddaughters of the Revolution, (but I think it was Confederacy, and I was just too embarrassed to say that for obvious political reasons). I heard that Colette's mother was in some type of organization like that- Order of the Eastern Star or something similar.

How did you know that?

I read it in her obituary. Most information is pretty simple to find with the help of the Internet. (I was feeling like a stalker at this point. He would probably agree.) There are a lot of similarities in our families. My adoptive and biological parents both went to Chapel Hill, where they met I'm told, and we are big Heels fans. Both my aunt and uncle went there as well. My uncle is a doctor, and I understand that your wife is a PT. I know that Colette and her brother and sister all attended college there. And that she worked in the medical office as a secretary to the Medical Director which wold explain my father being a dentist. Although, it would make better sense if my birth father was in medical school. 

The story that I was told was that my birth father and Colette were college sweethearts and that he was in his second year of dental school. She didn't tell him of her pregnancy, and she went away to a Florence Crittenton Home for Unwed Mothers in Charlotte, which is where I was born, to have the baby. I live in Charlotte still, having lived elsewhere though, I just always returned home. Her sister knew about the pregnancy, and there was some talk of her adopting me, but that clearly didn't work out. She visited her while she was at the home. Her parents supposedly wanted her to keep me, but she refused. But they did visit her in the home I was told. 

Wayne, you know that this information could have all been fabricated given the nature of closed adoption. It's prone to deception, even error perhaps, but that's what I was told by the adoption agency in my typed up birth papers, that adoptees are afforded if they are lucky.

Brooke, do you have brothers and sisters?

I had a younger brother who died when he was only 20. He was adopted too as a baby. He was 3.5 years younger than me. 

What about your parents?

My father died 5 years ago of a heart attack. They both  died in the same house, both of heart attacks, both untimely. God's ways are higher. So I don't try to understand why things happen the way they do.

I'm so sorry to hear that. Your brother was so young. How old was your father?

He was only 67. And he was a health nut. He would have been the last person that I would think would have died young. I think losing my brother did something to him. He was never the same after we lost Wilson. 

That is young. How sad.

But you know, Brooke, that the people who raised you are your true family. Colette is not your family. She had no part in raising you. She just gave birth to you, and tried to give you a better life.

I'm aware of that, but it still doesn't quiet the storm inside. I don't think that God would put these questions in my heart only to leave me unfulfilled. I don't think that He would have put me on this call right now unless He had a plan. (More tears.)

I understand. Brooke, I have someone in my office waiting on me so I need to go. Would it be OK with you if I spoke to my wife about this?

Sure. 

Occasionally Colette and I have a gin and tonic and talk about life, so I'll make sure that we are not having a libation when we have this discussion. I'll need to discuss it with my wife to make sure that we decide on the appropriate time and approach. I will not lose your number, but don't expect a phone call back from me for at least three weeks.

(Managing my expectation, which I understand completely, as I do it professionally with candidates.)

We are going to have to take in consideration what is best for all the parties involved. Do you understand what I mean?

Of course. I get it. I can't force anyone to love me, but I can give someone the opportunity to love me. My birth father might not have known about me, he might know now, but either way, I want to know who he is. Even if Colette doesn't want anything to do with me, it should be the birth father's decision whether or not he wishes to have a relationship with me. Not hers. It's only fair that he get  to decide. And she is the only one with that information. And your wife. She knows who the birth father is. 

I understand where you are coming from. I'll be in touch with you as I know more. Good luck Brooke.

We both hung up. I didn't expect to hear back from him, but I was hopeful. If anyone was to get inside Colette's heart, I knew it would be Wayne. Especially after his daughter had just met her birth mother. Surely Colette had been there to hear the story of her own niece's reunion. Maybe she hadn't. I don't know. Just like I don't know anything, but what I piece together. I have only bits and pieces of the story and over time the paper has been eaten by hungry mice, torn apart, and shredded. Leaving me with gaping holes. And I become the detective. Sherlock Brooke. Oh what tangled webs we weave...

Time went by and I waited patiently.

Some days I was eager. Others I completely forgot all this was brewing worlds away- only 2 hours down I-85, maintaining hope that Wayne would come back to me with a story that I hadn't imagined. That he would tell me that he had convinced this stranger/mother to meet me. That his daughter's story was enough to sell her on the idea. That she was resigning her anonymity and was finally ready.

Exactly three weeks to the day, just like he had said, Wayne called me on another sunny day. I was home cleaning the house. I picked up the phone and this is what he said...

To be continued...





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