Well, it arrived - the summary of the non-identifying information about my adoption.
And, as it turns out, the majority of my theories about the circumstances surrounding my adoption were correct, however as it turns out, my biological father isn't listed in the case record, and there is little to no further information about my birth mother's family either.
However, to quote: "According to the case record, the attorney who handled your adoption had handled several legal matters for your adoptive mother's family for years. <side note, this I already knew from Blake, who referred to him as "a crook" - coming from another lawyer, hard to tell if that's praise or judgement> He was aware of your adoptive parents' desire for a child and their inability to conceive children of their own. A few weeks prior to your birth, the attorney notified your adoptive parents of your birth mother's plan of adoption for you. Your birth mother 'was not able to provide a suitable home' for you. Shortly after your birth, the attorney took you to meet your adoptive parents and you were lovingly welcomed into their home. < I love how they editorialize and use "lovingly welcomed"... > Your adoptive parents paid the hospital bills and possibly for some of your birth mother's expenses. "
I was right. I was paid for.
Seems the Department of Public Welfare attempted to interview her, however she wasn't at the address listed in the case record. She signed me over to Sam & Faye on February 18, 1961, with the adoption finalized on August 3rd 1962.
There has been no contact with Georgia Adoption Registry from any member of my birth family since then.
Well, where do I go now? I'm wondering about paying the $300 to try and find her.
I wonder what I'll get with the $300?
What if they find her and she says "no" ? That's always a possibility.
Wow. This even overshadows your birth, Andrea. Sorry about that, I'm still thrilled beyond mortal comprehension that you're here and safe and healthy, but right now I've got this thrown on my plate, all about my birth and my adoption, and the potential for finding my birth mother.
And it's going to be an interesting next couple of months, lemme tell you.
Enough for now, I posted what I needed to, i.e. the verification of my theories surrounding my adoption.
I was right. Hell yeah, that does feel good.
Showing posts with label sam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sam. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Addendum
Okay - the promised addendum to the post about my father's death.
The year is 2004, and Sheba & De Wabbit are living in Tennessee - but De Wabbit's work is talking about moving him down to Atlanta again - and so Sheba's looking for living space, and I'm helping - she likes the 85/N Druid Hills/Clairmont/Buford Hwy area, and since 1) I'm currently living on Buford Hwy, 2) I grew up in this area and know the apartment complexes like the back of my hand, 3) happen to be doing the computer work for one of the main management companies on Buford Hwy, I am the resident expert.
For grins and giggles, I take her over to the apartment complex I grew up in - they'd recently undergone a multi-million dollar renovation, and I was honestly curious as to what they'd done and what they were charging, given that the apartments had some of the largest square footage available in the area.
So we go and talk to the resident manager - she was happy to show off the office as the 2br small model, and we also looked at what they called the 2 br large - I wanted to show Sheba the 3 br, since I thought it would more easily accomodate the Sheba and Wabbit Show.
It turned out that the only 3 available *happened* to be the apartment I grew up in.
I mentioned that to the agent, and she asked me if I knew anything about an old Jewish man who was haunting their apartment.
The layout of the buildings happened to put her apartment back to back with my old apartment, and then she went on to tell what was happening - her roommate would dream of an old Jewish man, and when they left Jewish items, such as a prayer book, or some other Jewish memorabilia out, he would be relatively quiet/inactive, and that he had a bad habit of turning the air conditioner on.
The last part told me beyond a shadow of a doubt, that was my father's spirit.
You see, my father was ... not to put too fine a point on it, sexually frustrated by my mother, and because he was a High School teacher, sought visual stimulation from the young girls in his classes - he was a notorious "pencil dropper" - for those of you unfamiliar with the term or concept, it goes something like this - you're at the podium giving your lecture to the class. You're gesturing with your pencil/pen, and you drop it, conveniently near a pretty girl in a short skirt. When you lean down to pick it up, you hope for a flash.
So, hearing about the a/c trick confirmed for me immediately that this was some remnant of my father's personality - I told the leasing agent that the best thing she could do when he got active would be to read the Mourner's Kaddish, in phonetic Hebrew if she couldn't read the real thing, but that would help him to move on.
And for those of you who wonder what the a/c has to do with pencil dropping, let me say that the manager's apartment was occupied by three young women in their early 20's and leave it at that.
Since that time, the complex was sold again, however this time it was razed to the ground, and townhouses have gone up in their place -
The year is 2004, and Sheba & De Wabbit are living in Tennessee - but De Wabbit's work is talking about moving him down to Atlanta again - and so Sheba's looking for living space, and I'm helping - she likes the 85/N Druid Hills/Clairmont/Buford Hwy area, and since 1) I'm currently living on Buford Hwy, 2) I grew up in this area and know the apartment complexes like the back of my hand, 3) happen to be doing the computer work for one of the main management companies on Buford Hwy, I am the resident expert.
For grins and giggles, I take her over to the apartment complex I grew up in - they'd recently undergone a multi-million dollar renovation, and I was honestly curious as to what they'd done and what they were charging, given that the apartments had some of the largest square footage available in the area.
So we go and talk to the resident manager - she was happy to show off the office as the 2br small model, and we also looked at what they called the 2 br large - I wanted to show Sheba the 3 br, since I thought it would more easily accomodate the Sheba and Wabbit Show.
It turned out that the only 3 available *happened* to be the apartment I grew up in.
I mentioned that to the agent, and she asked me if I knew anything about an old Jewish man who was haunting their apartment.
The layout of the buildings happened to put her apartment back to back with my old apartment, and then she went on to tell what was happening - her roommate would dream of an old Jewish man, and when they left Jewish items, such as a prayer book, or some other Jewish memorabilia out, he would be relatively quiet/inactive, and that he had a bad habit of turning the air conditioner on.
The last part told me beyond a shadow of a doubt, that was my father's spirit.
You see, my father was ... not to put too fine a point on it, sexually frustrated by my mother, and because he was a High School teacher, sought visual stimulation from the young girls in his classes - he was a notorious "pencil dropper" - for those of you unfamiliar with the term or concept, it goes something like this - you're at the podium giving your lecture to the class. You're gesturing with your pencil/pen, and you drop it, conveniently near a pretty girl in a short skirt. When you lean down to pick it up, you hope for a flash.
So, hearing about the a/c trick confirmed for me immediately that this was some remnant of my father's personality - I told the leasing agent that the best thing she could do when he got active would be to read the Mourner's Kaddish, in phonetic Hebrew if she couldn't read the real thing, but that would help him to move on.
And for those of you who wonder what the a/c has to do with pencil dropping, let me say that the manager's apartment was occupied by three young women in their early 20's and leave it at that.
Since that time, the complex was sold again, however this time it was razed to the ground, and townhouses have gone up in their place -
Another sitting Shiva story, this one with a spook attached
So now, we skip ahead to 1990 - my father's been diagnosed with cancer, and my parents have convinced me to move into a one bedroom apartment in their complex, mainly by guilting me into agreeing.
Well, the inevitable happened, and my father died one morning in his bed. I was wakened by my mother pounding on my door and ringing my bell to get me to come and see what was happening to my father - for some reason, their phone line was out due to a screwup on Bell South's part and they had no phone - I got there, saw my father was in the middle of a seizure, and immediately flew to the upstairs neighbor to ask to borrow the phone to call 911.
The ambulance came, but did no good, and so the funeral home had to be called and arrangements made. They sent a hearse over, and after they removed the body I went home to change into something more appropriate. I had 2 cats at the time, Luciano and TJ - they were indoor/outdoor, as the apartment complex was quite large and there were expansive woods nearby.
Well, I got home and both were at the door wanting to come in. Then I opened the door, and neither would set foot inside - this next statement is going to sound so off the wall I'm almost ashamed to type it, however it's what I did, so here goes - I put myself into a light state of trance to see what the issue was, and found my father's spook (yeah, I know it's not the PC term) hovering near me, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
My next actions may seem heartless to some, however I saw them as the required thing to do - I immediately told him that he had died, that he needed to go into the Light - this apparently didn't do anything for him, as I had to resort to stronger measures. I consecrated some salt and water, and Banished him from the apartment, telling him to go to the Light - apparently that worked, because he was then gone. And the cats came in the apartment immediately afterward.
That ends the spook part of this post - however there is an addendum to this tale that I'll post later.
So, we're sitting Shiva for my father - and I'm on my best behavior because I have an ounce of some sweet marijuana in my apartment, because when the relatives get on my last nerve, I go to my apartment and fire up a quick one. And my nerves improve.
Well, add to the cast of characters, my cousin's fiance - Laurie, who's major claim to fame is the fact that she's the Service Merchandise heiress. Ultra nouveau riche, speaks with an affected Bryn Mahr accent, and so plastic she'd melt in a high heat. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed by her when I met her, and didn't worship the ground she walked on like the rest of the relatives did simply because of her bank balance.
Well, Laurie came in with her future MIL, my Aunt Patty - and she brings this humongous deli platter - (Jews, like Southerners, believe in food as therapy for mourners) - cold cuts, cheeses, garnishes, the works - and I see this as my opportunity to leave. And I do, planning on coming back after some self medication.
I come back, and I find my mother sitting at the kitchen table, and Laurie trying to say how things are going to be, for example how my mother should be put into a home, they need to downsize the apartment, etc etc.
And I immediately fired this off - "Excuse me - you're not even a member of this family yet - and when you do become a member of this family, it's going to be by marriage not blood. And no, I don't give a shit what your bank balance is, trash is trash. Now get the fuck out of my face!" - this caused her to storm off, and my Aunt to go running after her. I never found out what got said, but that was the last time I ever saw Laurie again, even though she married my cousin.
There was one occasion about a year later, where we were supposed to have dinner with my Aunt, my cousin, Laurie and my mother, and I had planned on being saccharine sweet, saying "Laurie, have you put on weight?? Oh my God, you're pregnant, aren't you? Come on, tell me... you are, aren't you?" ... however that dinner got cancelled because she actually was pregnant.
Well, the inevitable happened, and my father died one morning in his bed. I was wakened by my mother pounding on my door and ringing my bell to get me to come and see what was happening to my father - for some reason, their phone line was out due to a screwup on Bell South's part and they had no phone - I got there, saw my father was in the middle of a seizure, and immediately flew to the upstairs neighbor to ask to borrow the phone to call 911.
The ambulance came, but did no good, and so the funeral home had to be called and arrangements made. They sent a hearse over, and after they removed the body I went home to change into something more appropriate. I had 2 cats at the time, Luciano and TJ - they were indoor/outdoor, as the apartment complex was quite large and there were expansive woods nearby.
Well, I got home and both were at the door wanting to come in. Then I opened the door, and neither would set foot inside - this next statement is going to sound so off the wall I'm almost ashamed to type it, however it's what I did, so here goes - I put myself into a light state of trance to see what the issue was, and found my father's spook (yeah, I know it's not the PC term) hovering near me, trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
My next actions may seem heartless to some, however I saw them as the required thing to do - I immediately told him that he had died, that he needed to go into the Light - this apparently didn't do anything for him, as I had to resort to stronger measures. I consecrated some salt and water, and Banished him from the apartment, telling him to go to the Light - apparently that worked, because he was then gone. And the cats came in the apartment immediately afterward.
That ends the spook part of this post - however there is an addendum to this tale that I'll post later.
So, we're sitting Shiva for my father - and I'm on my best behavior because I have an ounce of some sweet marijuana in my apartment, because when the relatives get on my last nerve, I go to my apartment and fire up a quick one. And my nerves improve.
Well, add to the cast of characters, my cousin's fiance - Laurie, who's major claim to fame is the fact that she's the Service Merchandise heiress. Ultra nouveau riche, speaks with an affected Bryn Mahr accent, and so plastic she'd melt in a high heat. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed by her when I met her, and didn't worship the ground she walked on like the rest of the relatives did simply because of her bank balance.
Well, Laurie came in with her future MIL, my Aunt Patty - and she brings this humongous deli platter - (Jews, like Southerners, believe in food as therapy for mourners) - cold cuts, cheeses, garnishes, the works - and I see this as my opportunity to leave. And I do, planning on coming back after some self medication.
I come back, and I find my mother sitting at the kitchen table, and Laurie trying to say how things are going to be, for example how my mother should be put into a home, they need to downsize the apartment, etc etc.
And I immediately fired this off - "Excuse me - you're not even a member of this family yet - and when you do become a member of this family, it's going to be by marriage not blood. And no, I don't give a shit what your bank balance is, trash is trash. Now get the fuck out of my face!" - this caused her to storm off, and my Aunt to go running after her. I never found out what got said, but that was the last time I ever saw Laurie again, even though she married my cousin.
There was one occasion about a year later, where we were supposed to have dinner with my Aunt, my cousin, Laurie and my mother, and I had planned on being saccharine sweet, saying "Laurie, have you put on weight?? Oh my God, you're pregnant, aren't you? Come on, tell me... you are, aren't you?" ... however that dinner got cancelled because she actually was pregnant.
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