When I was 22 years old, I met my birthmother.
I called her on the phone and for the first time she answered.
She had the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard and I knew someone with a voice that kind would NEVER be mean to me.
So I told her who I was and asked if now was a good time to talk.
The rest is history.
In 17 months, I will have known my birthfamily LONGER than I haven’t known them.
I find this a strangely reassuring milestone.
It’s as if I went away for a little while, or took a long vacation, only to return.
I have three families now – mine, my birthmother’s and my birthfather’s.
Try juggling holiday commitments when you’ve got three families.
[ASIDE: If I was married, it would be EVEN HARDER].
Two weeks ago, I made the trek to Santa Rosa to visit my birthfamily and I had a really great time.
My birthmom and I got to hang out and chat before the rest of the family showed up.
I talked to my sister, who was so nice I can’t help but think there’s potential for a real relationship to develop.
We shared a meal before I drove for three grueling hours (it normally only takes two) during a deluge where even my wipers on hyper speed couldn’t keep up with the rain.
And just cuz I love them BUCKETS, I’m posting a pic we took that day. . . in all our clever goofiness.
We’re in DISGUISE!