My Writing Life ~ From Fact to Fiction

Tags

adoptee, adoption, diary-writing, Fiction, India, Native American, nonfiction, reunions, Searching, Southwest, suspense, writing

You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are. – Joss Whedon

It’s hell writing and it’s hell not writing. The only tolerable state is just having written.
Robert Hass

*******************************************************************************************

I’ve enjoyed a lifetime of reading novels, and for the past decade, I’ve devoted my energy to writing them. A shift of focus, closer to my heart. Previously, my writing life had been devoted to nonfiction. As a young child, I recorded the events of each day in a diary (a habit that I’ve continued to this day!) For a decade, I made my living as a technical writer in the Information Services division of Los Alamos Laboratory. In the early 1980s, my love of hiking, running and bicycling resulted in the guidebook Santa Fe on Foot-Exploring the City Different. The fourth edition was published last year by Ocean Tree Books.
In 1991, another nonfiction book followed: The Santa Fe Trail by Bicycle, an account of my 1,000-mile bicycle journey from Santa Fe to New Franklin, Missouri. Fifteen of us cycled from Santa Fe to New Franklin, Missouri. We biked from dawn until afternoon, camping every night. My book began as newspaper articles. After each day of bicycling, I’d handwrite an account and fax it to The Albuquerque Journal. The quest for a fax machine took me to some unusual places. I’d bike around whatever town we’d camped near looking for a business that had a fax machine I could pay to use. The most offbeat fax machine location was an undertaker’s showroom, the friendliest was a bookstore.
Other nonfiction books came, one after another. From Calcutta with Love-The WWII Letters of Richard and Reva Beard; The Goodbye Baby-Adoptee Diaries. My true love, from adolescence forward, was fiction. At long last, I’m realizing that dream.
I began the journey into the world of fiction-writing with a WWII suspense novel Beast of Bengal. It was inspired by a comment my brother John made about our father Richard. After Daddy died, I asked John to send me all the letters from WWII that my parents exchanged. “He didn’t DO anything,” John grumpily replied. “Nobody will be interested in these letters.” My brother was dead wrong. People were very interested in the archived letters, and From Calcutta with Love sold out. Texas Tech University Press, the publisher, returned full rights to me, and the book is currently being considered for re-publication by Pajarito Press.
In 2017,Pocol Press published my second novel All the Wrong Places, a page-turner set in a fictitious Native American school. Teacher Clara Jordan has to run for her life when her duplicitous lover Henry DiMarco realizes she is aware of his criminal activities. Moreover, she must draw upon inner strength to help her students survive the ragged remains of the school year.
One book just leads to another. Clara Jordan, my heroine, has more to tell. In All the Wrong Places, she lost her best friend, broke up with a bad boyfriend, and learned that the birthmother she’d been seeking died in an accident.

In  Hand of Ganesh, my girl moves from Red Mesa, New Mexico to Santa Fe. She meets Arundhati “Dottie” Bennett, a fellow adoptee, and they become close friends. Clara decides to help Dottie search for her origins. To do the necessary sleuthing, the two women must travel to Southern India. A daunting challenge, but as I left Clara and Dot, they were plotting and scheming for a way. What happens next? Though I have a general idea, I’m waiting for my characters to guide me. Throughout the day, I write down ideas that pop up while I’m in the dentist’s chair, in the middle of a hike, in the shower – or sometimes when I’m officially “writing.” My job is to collect the ideas and show up at the computer every day. This showing up feels like what I should be doing. Writing fiction is what I’ve been working toward for decades. In answer to the question posed by poet Mary Oliver
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
My answer is to listen to my characters and do their bidding.

*************************************************

Join adoptee Elaine Pinkerton on monthly Mondays for reflections on adoption and the writing life. Please email elaine.coleman2013@gmail.com if you’d like to propose a guest blog. Comments are welcome!

Author, Elaine Pinkerton, traveled to India to research her latest novel Hand of Ganesh

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My Writing Life ~ From Fact to Fiction

Tags

adoptee, adoption, diary-writing, Fiction, India, Native American, nonfiction, reunions, Searching, Southwest, suspense, writing

You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril, you find out who they really are. – Joss Whedon

It’s hell writing and it’s hell not writing. The only tolerable state is just having written.
Robert Hass

*******************************************************************************************

I’ve enjoyed a lifetime of reading novels, and for the past decade, I’ve devoted my energy to writing them. A shift of focus, closer to my heart. Previously, my writing life had been devoted to nonfiction. As a young child, I recorded the events of each day in a diary (a habit that I’ve continued to this day!) For a decade, I made my living as a technical writer in the Information Services division of Los Alamos Laboratory. In the early 1980s, my love of hiking, running and bicycling resulted in the guidebook Santa Fe on Foot-Exploring the City Different. The fourth edition was published last year by Ocean Tree Books.
In 1991, another nonfiction book followed: The Santa Fe Trail by Bicycle, an account of my 1,000-mile bicycle journey from Santa Fe to New Franklin, Missouri. Fifteen of us cycled from Santa Fe to New Franklin, Missouri. We biked from dawn until afternoon, camping every night. My book began as newspaper articles. After each day of bicycling, I’d handwrite an account and fax it to The Albuquerque Journal. The quest for a fax machine took me to some unusual places. I’d bike around whatever town we’d camped near looking for a business that had a fax machine I could pay to use. The most offbeat fax machine location was an undertaker’s showroom, the friendliest was a bookstore.
Other nonfiction books came, one after another. From Calcutta with Love-The WWII Letters of Richard and Reva Beard; The Goodbye Baby-Adoptee Diaries. My true love, from adolescence forward, was fiction. At long last, I’m realizing that dream.
I began the journey into the world of fiction-writing with a WWII suspense novel Beast of Bengal. It was inspired by a comment my brother John made about our father Richard. After Daddy died, I asked John to send me all the letters from WWII that my parents exchanged. “He didn’t DO anything,” John grumpily replied. “Nobody will be interested in these letters.” My brother was dead wrong. People were very interested in the archived letters, and From Calcutta with Love sold out. Texas Tech University Press, the publisher, returned full rights to me, and the book is currently being considered for re-publication by Pajarito Press.
In 2017,Pocol Press published my second novel All the Wrong Places, a page-turner set in a fictitious Native American school. Teacher Clara Jordan has to run for her life when her duplicitous lover Henry DiMarco realizes she is aware of his criminal activities. Moreover, she must draw upon inner strength to help her students survive the ragged remains of the school year.
One book just leads to another. Clara Jordan, my heroine, has more to tell. In All the Wrong Places, she lost her best friend, broke up with a bad boyfriend, and learned that the birthmother she’d been seeking died in an accident.

In  Hand of Ganesh, my girl moves from Red Mesa, New Mexico to Santa Fe. She meets Arundhati “Dottie” Bennett, a fellow adoptee, and they become close friends. Clara decides to help Dottie search for her origins. To do the necessary sleuthing, the two women must travel to Southern India. A daunting challenge, but as I left Clara and Dot, they were plotting and scheming for a way. What happens next? Though I have a general idea, I’m waiting for my characters to guide me. Throughout the day, I write down ideas that pop up while I’m in the dentist’s chair, in the middle of a hike, in the shower – or sometimes when I’m officially “writing.” My job is to collect the ideas and show up at the computer every day. This showing up feels like what I should be doing. Writing fiction is what I’ve been working toward for decades. In answer to the question posed by poet Mary Oliver
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
My answer is to listen to my characters and do their bidding.

*************************************************

Join adoptee Elaine Pinkerton on monthly Mondays for reflections on adoption and the writing life. Please email elaine.coleman2013@gmail.com if you’d like to propose a guest blog. Comments are welcome!

Author, Elaine Pinkerton, traveled to India to research her latest novel Hand of Ganesh

Clara and Dottie go to India

Tags

adoptees, birthparents, Fiction, India, Khumba Mela, roots, Searching

Returning to Fiction

Today, going from the nonfiction world (writing about adoption) to fiction (still writing about adoption), I’m presenting scenes from my longtime novel-in-progress, Clara and the Hand of Ganesha. For months, the book gathered metaphorical dust. A new year, a fresh start, or rather a re-start. The central themes of adoption and the search for authenticity are propelling the book forward. This is just a preview and may not be exactly what ends up in my novel.

Here’s a brief summary: The two central characters are both adult adoptees. Clara Jordan, part Native American, loves her adoptive parents, but feels driven to find out about her origins. Arundati Ragan, known to her friends as “Dottie,” lost her adoptive parents in the Mumbai massacre of 2008. She now longs to go to India to search for her birthparents. Like Clara, she is challenged by the mystery surrounding her origins. When the two adoptees’ paths cross, they become friends and decide to travel together to India.

Scene One:

Arundhati Benet was pushed open the library’s heavy doors. Dot Benet, as she was

Searching for clues

known to her friends, shouldered in a briefcase heavy with articles from magazines, books, handwritten notes. She also lugged a carrying case with a new MacBook Thin and charging device. She headed toward the nearest carrel. Dottie Benet was not her original name. Born Arundhati Rangan, she was one of two adult adoptees in the library that day..

Scene Two:

“May I help you find anything?” The reference librarian’s question pierced through Clara’s reverie.

The University of Virginia Library’s deep silence so engulfed her, she thought rather than voiced her first response. Well yes, my roots, my origins, where I’m from. I doubt that you could help me with that.

The middle-aged gray haired, bespeckled woman stood impatiently, hovering over Clara’s table, awaiting an answer.

Finally Clara answered, “I’m doing some genealogy research. Just browsing…actually, looking for ideas.”

“There are some websites I can direct you to.” When Clara didn’t answer, the librarian continued. “If you’ll tell me more about your search, maybe there are materials right here in the library that you could begin with.”

This woman looked trustworthy. Why not tell all? She was getting nowhere on her own, and the longer she waited, the less likely that she’d discover the truth.

Clara, who usually didn’t confide in anyone – much less total strangers – decided to open up.

Author’s Note: Stay tuned for monthly installments. If you’ve read ALL THE WRONG PLACES (available from Pocol Press or Amazon), you’ll notice that my protagonist is named “Clara,” just like the heroine of my last novel. Not an accident! This new work-in-progress is a sequel.

Join Elaine on alternate Mondays.

Adoptee’s Poetry Monday

Tags

adoptee, Adoption Month, Amelia Island, Atlantic Ocean, Attitude adjustment, Empowerment, Florida, Friendship, national adoption month, Searching

Note from Elaine: Just remembered that November is National Adoption Month! When I was adopted at the tender age of five, I adjusted to a whole

Seashells remind me of simple pleasures

new paradigm. A load of baggage came with that. My personal silver lining might have been “adaptation” and “resourcefulness.” (I’ve been told that these are some of my best traits.) Like many, I am striving to give the recent election results a positive interpretation. This reflection (by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat) was sent to me by dear friend Joalie, one of the smartest women I know. I’m passing it on to you, dear readers, in the hope it will help you as much as it did me.

A PRAYER AFTER THE ELECTION

Today mourning and celebration commingle.
Jubilation and heartache are juxtaposed
In neighborhoods where lawns proclaimed
Support for different candidates, on Facebook walls
And Twitter streams where clashing viewpoints meet.

Grant us awareness of each others’ hopes and fears
Even across the great divides of red state and blue state,
Urban and rural. Open us to each others’ needs.
Purify our hearts so that those who rejoice do not gloat
And those who grieve do not despair.

Strengthen our ability to be kind to one another
And to ourselves. Awaken in us the yearning
To build a more perfect union. Let us roll up our sleeves
Whether today we feel exultation or sorrow, and together
Shape a nation of welcome and compassion.

Let ours be a land where no one need fear abuse
Or retribution, where every diversity is celebrated,
Where those who are most vulnerable are protected.
May bigotry and violence vanish like smoke.
May compassion prevail from sea to shining sea.

By Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

 

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Join Elaine on alternate Mondays for reflections about adoption, hiking, and life. I’d love your comments. Include your email if you’d like to continue a dialogue. Thank you for reading my blog!

Visiting the ocean: Fernandina/Amelia Island/Florida

Adoption Reunions: Be prepared for ANYTHING

Tags

adoption, birthmother, Finding, Nature, Nurture, reunion, Searching, separation

Note from Elaine: Guest blogger Pat Goehe is a frequent contributor to The Goodbye Baby website. Meeting her daughter for the first time after 32 years was a life-changing experience. It has been two years since she first wrote about their reunion (http://bit.ly/1M2dGlW). Pat is now moving forward with personal goals, specifically writing projects.

Birthmother/daughter reunion – Pat knew the day would come and it did!

In Retrospect…

As I think about the reunion with my daughter after she found me, the thing that benefited me the most, was knowing that in fact she had been adopted by a wonderful couple.   Those who have read my original blog posts may remember I indicated  something had happened in one of my classes which made me wonder if my daughter had a negative experience similar to one of the students in that class.   So it was such a relief to meet her adopted parents and see that they were so wonderful.

I was pleasantly surprised at the time of the original reunion that she was involved in the arts, and that she had moved to California the very same year that I went there on a years’ sabbatical leave from my college.  Her field was music and also management and an agent for film composers.  I was dabbling in the film industry as well.   Another surprise was to discover we both were in love with the song from a Disney movie …. “somewhere out there….”    In fact, while celebrating one of my birthdays shortly after the reunion  at a favorite place, one of the singing waiters came and said there was another request for me.  He went on to say my daughter had called and requested it.  She knew I would be there that evening.

The old “nature or nurture” question was back in my mind.  At our very first meeting she ordered the same salad dressing I always do.  At one point where I excused myself to go to the restroom, she commented “So that’s where I get my pea sized bladder from!”.  And as originally talked about, when she called me for the first time, I couldn’t get over how much she seemed like me.  So much more than the daughter I had raised.  She’s also a “worry wart” like me, usually overbooked in the “to do” lists, and there’s no question that we are both sensitive, emotional people.

What advice can I give to adoptees or the birth parents seeking a reunion?  Be prepared for anything.   If you have a scenario developed where it’s a glorious reunion, it may not be.  If you have other children and you hope all will become one big happy family, that too may not be.  It hasn’t been in my case. If you are haunted by needing to know, then by all means search.  I hope you have a happy outcome.   To me, the not knowing was the most difficult of all.   I was prepared for whatever I would find, good or bad.  She found me,  and it has been good.  Perfect?  Is anything ever that?

Editor’s Note: Pat Goehe is a lifetime teacher who’s worked in all facets of communication and related arts. She teaches students at the secondary and university level. Perhaps the most meaningful communication of her life, however, occurred when her daughter Linda, after decades of separation, contacted her. Pat is a frequent contributor to The Goodbye Baby website and the author of a children’s book Annemarie and Boomer wait for Grandma, the first in a series. In keeping with National Adoption Month, Pat reflects on her reunion with daughter Linda.

Pat relaxes in Santa Fe’s Rose Garden Park

A Reunion too Late, or… the Gift of Relatives

Tags

adoptee, Adoptee Recovery, birthfather, family, Italy, Personal history, Searching

Note: Just back from a river cruise on the Elbe River, through the Czech Republic, Saxony and Germany. My apologies for publishing a so-called “Monday Blog” on Wednesday. It is the first time in two years of blogging that I’ve missed a deadline. Traveling in Europe without a computer was not conducive to being punctual, but I’m hoping this belated post will provide food for thought, especially for adoptees who’ve either had or are hoping to have reunions with their parents of origin.
************************************************************************************************

Jane, adopted at ten months, met her birthparents as an adult. Decades later, she and her original mom had a reunion. It was a great success. Predictably, one of the best aspects of the reunion was learning about her German roots. She greatly enjoyed getting to know her mother, a first generation immigrant. As she told me about the event, my spirits drooped. A success, I thought, as I enviously listened.

To be honest, reunions with both my birthparents, who divorced shortly after I was Note: I am just back from a river cruise on the Elbe River, through the Czech Republic, Saxony and Germany. My apologies for publishing a so-called “Monday Blog” on Wednesday. It is the first time in two years of blogging that I’ve missed a deadline. Traveling in Europe without a computer was not conducive to being punctual, but I’m hoping this belated post will provide food for thought, especially for adoptees who’ve either had or are hoping to have reunions with their parents of origin.
************************************************************************************************

Jane, adopted at ten months, met her birthparents as an adult. Decades later, she and her original mom had a reunion. It was a great success. Predictably, one of the best aspects of the reunion was learning about her German roots. She greatly enjoyed getting to know her mother, a first generation immigrant. As she told me about the event, my spirits drooped. A success, I thought, as I enviously listened.

To be honest, reunions with both my birthparents, who divorced shortly after I was born, were less than victorious. In the case of Giovanni Cecchini, my Italian birthfather, expectations were great. The year was 1987, and Giovanni was planning to visit his birthplace, San Martino Sulla Marrucina in Abruzzo, Italy. I had seen him once in my life, during my teen years, and I had a positive relationship with his new wife Margaret.

Because Giovanni was in frail health, Margaret and I decided that it would be a good

Abruzzi, Italy is the birthplace of my original dad. Many relatives still live there.

idea for me to accompany him to Europe. Not only did I want to meet my Italian relatives, I hoped for a deeper relationship with my father. This trip might provide a chance to learn more about Velma, my birthmother, and the circumstances of my adoption.

However, it was a miss. Too much time had apparently loosened any potential bonds. Giovanni was moody, out of sorts, and taciturn. He was far warmer toward his two little nieces, ages nine and ten, than to me, his own flesh and blood. That part was a tremendous let-down.

There we were in Italy, the “old country,” surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins. Everyone lived in close proximity. It was November and mornings were very cold.

We’re sitting in front of a blazing fireplace and I asked my father to tell me what my mother was like when he first met her.

“To tell the truth,” he grumpily responded, “You remind me of her.” Nothing else, just that. I could tell that it wasn’t a compliment. I waited for clarification, elaboration, a modifying remark…anything. Nothing but silence.

After the visit to Italy, Giovanni and I were interviewed by a newspaper about our reunion and journey to Italy. He told the reporter that in his opinion, there had been “too much water under the bridge.”

On the bright side, my Italian relatives—who’d known nothing about me—surrounded me with love. They seemed thrilled to know about their newfound American cousin. So, while I envied Jane and her successful birth family reunion, I treasured the fact that I got to know my extended Italian family. I cherish the memories more as years go by. born, were less than victorious. In the case of Giovanni Cecchini, my Italian birthfather, expectations were great. The year was 1987, and Giovanni was planning to visit his birthplace, San Martino Sulla Marrucina in Abruzzo, Italy. I had seen him once in my life, during my teen years, and I had a positive relationship with his new wife Margaret.

Because Giovanni was in frail health, Margaret and I decided that it would be a good idea for me to accompany him to Europe. Not only did I want to meet my Italian relatives, I hoped for a deeper relationship with my father. This trip might provide a chance to learn more about Velma, my birthmother, and the circumstances of my adoption.

However, it was a miss. Too much time had apparently loosened any potential bonds. Giovanni was moody, out of sorts, and taciturn. He was far warmer toward his two little nieces, ages nine and ten, than to me, his own flesh and blood. That part was a tremendous let-down.

There we were in Italy, the “old country,” surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins. Everyone lived in close proximity. It was November and mornings were very cold.

We’re sitting in front of a blazing fireplace and I asked my father to tell me what my mother was like when he first met her.

“To tell the truth,” he grumpily responded, “You remind me of her.” Nothing else, just that. I could tell that it wasn’t a compliment. I waited for clarification, elaboration, a modifying remark…anything. Nothing but silence.

After the visit to Italy, Giovanni and I were interviewed by a newspaper about our reunion and journey to Italy. He told the reporter that in his opinion, there had been “too much water under the bridge.”

On the bright side, my Italian relatives—who’d known nothing about me—surrounded me with love. They seemed thrilled to know about their newfound American cousin. So, while I envied Jane and her successful birth family reunion, I treasured the fact that I got to know my extended Italian family. I cherish the memories more as years go by.

Join Elaine every other Monday for reflections on adoption and life.

Message from a Birth Mom

Tags

adoptee, Attitude adjustment, birthmother, child adoptee, daughter, empower, Gratitude, healing, reunion, Searching

Editor’s Note: Mother’s Day has special meeting for Pat Goehe, who—after decades of waiting and wondering—finally met the daughter she’d never seen. The reunion was wonderfully rewarding, and it has greatly enriched her life. For anyone who is hesitant to seek a lost daughter or son, she recommends moving forward.

**********************************************************************************

As I started to write this piece I’m reminded of a Christmas song that begins something like “So this is Christmas and what have you done?”   That’s probably a bad version, but it is what sticks in my head.  Only now I want to say, “So this Mother’s Day,  and what have you done?”
Without question for a birth mother and the child she chose to give away, Mother’s Day is a troubling time for both.  Recently a former student of mine put on her Facebook Page, “Mother’s Day and where is mine………..”

There are times in our lives when we must consider whether to jump into the void or not.  Deciding to search for a child is just that,  a void.  There is no guarantee that the outcome will be positive or even productive.  But is it worth the jump?  Certainly one can go through life never searching, but it is Mother’s Day that tugs at our hearts.  Where is he/she?  Does she wonder about me?  Is he angry that I did the unforgivable and gave him away?  Would knowing the “why” help?  Does she look like me?  Could we be passing each other daily and not even know it?

Some of you probably have read my story of reunion.  Was it worth it?  Oh yes!  Would I do it again?  Without question.  I must confess that over the yeas if I don’t hear from her for a period of time, the voice inside of me says, “Well Pat, why should she stay in touch…you gave her away!”  But then she call or emails.  Recently I’ve learned to remind myself that those who I did raise often are lax about staying in touch as well.  Children get busy with their own lives.

Should you search for your child?  I can’t answer that for you.  Some may not want you to find them.  Some may want to take advantage of you.  You may want to take advantage of them.  So many possibilities but always a question mark.  The “abandonment issue” remains a constant problem for both mother and child and never so much as when Mother’s Day arrives each year.   As you think of all the possible outcomes along with the tremendous emotional turmoil involved, I would ask you to also think of this.  When you lay dying, will you still wonder where that child is?  Maybe now is the time to take the leap.

Pat Goehe knew that someday she would meet the daughter who was adopted out at birth

Laura and her Mission

Tags

adoptee, Adoptee Recovery, Birth Family, Donations, healing, Helping Recovery, Korea, Origins, Poetry, roots, Searching

In a few months, 25-year-old Korean-American adoptee Laura Wachs will be traveling to Korea in search of her birthparents. She longs to  learn firsthand about her cultural heritage. Beyond that, she is launching a campaign to help other Korean adoptees.

Korea, the homeland that Laura has never seen.

Laura was adopted when she was six months old. As a young girl growing up in Seattle, she was told only that her birthmother was unwed, very young and wanted to give her infant daughter the chance for a good life. “Basically, that (a good life) was the outcome,” says Laura. “However, there are many questions about my origins that I need to research.”
In addition to her own quest, Laura is making great strides toward helping other Korean adoptees. Though donations gained primarily through a Kickstarter fund, she will be using art and poetry, mediums that have helped her in healing from the wounds of adoption and in leading a more authentic life. Her plan is an ambitious one, involving a workshop for Korean adoptees, a show of their artistic creations and the publication of two books.
The project is titled ‘The Voices of Korean Adoption.’ It will showcase poets from around the world who were adopted from Korea. Laura has raised nearly half of the required $10,000 needed to obtain the grant that will allow her to complete the project. She has a deadline of April 28th to raise about $6,000.
Editor’s Note:  After talking with Laura, I donated to this incredibly worthy cause. Laura has succeeded in previous art and poetry nonprofit projects and is well qualified to bring her plan to fruition. As an adoptee who was able to meet my birthparents, I know the value of such reunions.
Please join me in supporting ‘The Voices of Korean Adoption’
Contact: Laura Wachs
206-819-6398
laura_wachs@hotmail.com

Laura feels hopeful that donations will make her project a reality!

Better Late than Never

Tags

adoption, birthmother, Dealing with Adoption, Ireland, Judi Dench, Martin Sixsmith, Philomena, Searching, Steve Coogan, Unwed mothers

“We keep secrets until we no longer have the breath to utter them, and then they go to the grave with us.”
-Mma Sebina to Mma Ramotswe/ The Miracle at Speedy Motors by Alexander McCall Smith

Beyond questions about possible inherited health conditions, if you love your adoptive parents, why would you search for “the originals”? We need to know about our parents to fully realize ourselves. I found myself trying to explain this recently. The next day, to my astonishment, along came a movie that explained it far better than I could.
My friend Nan (not her real name) and I found ourselves both shopping at Trader Joe’s and the conversation fell to writing. She finished her first novel and it was with a literary agent. I mentioned that my last book was The Goodbye Baby-A Diary about Adoption.
“My daughter was adopted,” Nan confided, “but she doesn’t want to find out who her birthparents were.” I expressed my belief that even if an adoptee does not want to upset people or herself (or himself), it is important to meet and learn about birthparents. Parents, originals or adoptive, can become “late” in the blink of an eye, and when they are gone, they will be gone forever. Having lost both my birth parents and my adoptive mom and dad, I know this all too well.
It makes sense to meet the parents, to know where you started out, to overcome inhibitions or old wounds and to adjust to whatever circumstances decided your fate. (As opposed to wishing for what might have been.)
Right after my encounter with Nan, I saw the movie “Philomena.” The movie is based on Martin Sixsmith’s account of a true story. Played by Judi Dench, Philomena is an Irish teenager who got pregnant out of wedlock. She was sent to live with nuns. The 16-year-old is forced to work and allowed, as were all the unwed mothers at the Abbey, to see her son for a mere hour a day. Without warning, the son is adopted (actually, sold) to a wealthy American couple. Fifty years later, she longs to find him. She meets Sixsmith (played by Steve Coogan) and through a series of events ends up being the topic of Sixsmith’s journalism assignment: a human interest story based on the birthmother’s story.
The two comprise a very odd couple as Sixsmith joins Philomena in a journey to America to locate the son she hopes to find. It turns out that the quest is too late. To not give everything away, I’ll say simply that you must see the movie to learn why. Philomena’s expression of profound grief at the end conveys a powerful message: Do not wait.
    I hope my friend and her daughter will go to see this amazing portrayal of a true adoption story. Perhaps it will lead the daughter will change her mind about searching for her birthmother. That said, Philomena should be a must-see for adoptees, birth parents, adoptive parents, and anyone who enjoys a wonderful, beautifully-crafted film.

Adopting my Collateral Damage

Tags

adoptees, birthfathers, cultural heritage, healing, Italy, literature, Mexican roots, reunions, Searching

Wouldn’t it be grand if painful childhood and adolescent memories could be tucked

Book cover by Joe Cepeda, used by permission of Scholastic

away in a mental closet and never opened again? For me, and for other adult adoptees suffering from early “collateral damage”, I suspect that is not possible. I seem to be forever seeking clarity about the demons released when I was “transplanted.” My conclusion: dealing with the original wrenching—being separated from birthparents—is the work of a lifetime.

My grown son recently commented, “Mom, I don’t think we ever truly get over our childhood wounds.” He may be right. In my memoir The Goodbye Baby: A Diary about Adoption, I documented my own growing up adopted. Writing my story was helpful, but that was just the beginning.

Another resource in my pilgrimage was the Internet. Cyberspace is rich with adoption websites. The sites comprise a vast network of adoptees, adoptive parents, birthparents, people searching, families seeking to adopt. Look, and you will find an entire tribe of men and women, young and older, communicating about how adoption personally affected them.

What does it mean to have a father who was never there for you, an “original” dad who disappeared from your life?

Answers can be found in literature, for “Adoption” as a theme abounds. I recently finished the wonderful young adult novel Becoming Naomi León by Pam Muñoz Ryan (Scholastic, 2004), a heartwarming story of a young girl who overcomes obstacles, finds her voice, and connects with those most important to her. In particular, the book shows how finding ones father and getting in touch with ones roots provides direction and clarity.

Naomi León Outlaw, the plucky heroine of Becoming Naomi León is being raised by her great-grandmother. She wears “clothes that matched her great-grandma’s polyester wardrobe” (Ryan, p. 58) and feels like a misfit at school. When her birthmother Skyla, definitely not parent material, decides to take her back, Gram, little brother Owen and Naomi escape in the “Beluga” van to Mexico. There, they locate birthfather Santiago León. Santiago, a fabulous carver, is competing in La Noche de Rábanos (Night of the Radishes). Naomi is also a skilled carver, not of radishes but soap. Though she meets her father for just a short time, the two form a bond. He advises her to be brave and assures her of his love. For Naomi, it is a turning point.

When Naomi, Gram and Owen return to the United States, a judge rules in favor of the children staying with Gram. Naomi is transformed by connecting with her father and embracing her Mexican roots. The school librarian, one of her best adult friends, says “Before you were a mouse, but now you have the countenance of a lion.”

I was lucky enough to have a brief reunion with my birthfather. A few years before he died (at 83), we met and I was invited to travel with him to his birthplace in Abruzzo, Italy. During our two weeks in Italy I met my cousins, shared in the extended family’s daily life, and hiked the hills and valleys around San Martino. Like Naomi, I was able to get in touch with my cultural background.

As I travel the journey to understanding adoption, I’ve found  enlightenment in wondrous places. Increasingly, light pours forth from novels.