Dealing With Delayed
Information
by Lee Morgan
It
has now been just over seven years since I learned of my adoption. I learned
this at age 46, six months after my adoptive father died, while I was being
questioned on the witness stand by opposing counsel, regarding a womans
claim of marriage to my father, a claim that was first presented to me by
this woman two hours before Dad died. While on the witness stand, I was presented
with a document which turned out to be a certificate of adoption. I looked
at that document and swallowed hard. In an instant, my mind ran rampant.
Suddenly, a piece of my lifes puzzle was exposed to me.
I recall looking at the judge, then turning
to look at my attorney, and I simply said, Sure, this is a certificate
of adoption, and it has my name on it. At that point, you could have
heard a pin drop in the court room. This simple fact had never been revealed
during the so-called discovery process used by the legal system, which is
supposed to avoid situations such as this. The attorney who did this cruel
act, in my opinion, apparently had no moral character or concern for its
consequences. There are times I wonder how he sleeps at night. Since that
moment in the court room, my world of reality has been turned upside down
and inside out.
I have been so busy all these years, dealing
with my fathers estate issues, dancing through the legal maze, which
has not completely protected the truth, at the same time trying to operate
a business and take care of my family. The only apparent winners were the
attorneys, who extracted all the money they could from the estate before
saying, You really should consider settling this case. This seems
to be done when all the money is gone. There has been very little time for
myself, to deal with and recover from, what are deep-seated and complicated
emotions.
Fortunately, shortly after that fateful day
in court, I learned about Operation Identity. I have learned so much about
adoption issues during these complicated years, which has been beneficial
to my survival. The issues are so complex. I find that I am so angry about
the years of lies which occurred during my whole life. Despite the fact that
my adoptive parents chose not to tell me I was adopted, they did what they
thought was right, based on what they knew, or didnt know, about adoption,
and what they were told. However, I still find myself lost in a sea of turmoil
and emotions, with no real answers. My aunts and uncles, who knew about the
adoption since my birth, helped keep the secret from me. Now they just keep
telling me to remember how much my parents loved me. I do remember that;
however, unanswered questions continue to plague me as I still search for
answers. My adoptive mother had died several years before my adoptive father,
and although my adoptive brother (their biological son) was still alive at
the time of that day in court, he died shortly after that, leaving me with
no immediate family and no first-hand information. It is such an odd emotion
to deal with, to know your entire history was changed by the mere fact of
coming into this world, and learning that the family history I thought was
my identity was not even my own history.
The day after the court hearing, I filed to
have the court records opened, and a search was started by Sally File, a
Confidential Intermediary. We found my birth mother after sane diligent
searching., and I had a successful reunion, of sorts, some time later. I
found out at our first in-person meeting that my birth mother was also adopted,
and that when I was born, she was told I was born dead. All those years she
had believed that. No wonder she was startled when contacted! I met with
her three times in Florida, where she was living, and we spoke on the telephone
countless times, at least every two weeks. My mother had been through two
unsuccessful marriages and had four more children, who knew nothing of me
until the reunion. The first child was a girl, apparently born deaf. I have
never met nor communicated directly with her. She did not find out about
me until she had to sign the certificate for cremation and found my name
on the list. That was last year. My mother had a second son by the second
marriage, and the a set of twins, one of whom died at birth. I went from
being the baby of the family, in my adoptive family, to being the oldest
brother of several in my birth family.
My mother had several health issues due to
her long history of smoking. When I finally confronted her with my question
of who my birth father was, she hesitated and then said she did not know.
I went to Florida in August of 2004, which turned out to be the last time.
My mother was in the hospital again. Several days before I went down there,
she had difficulty putting all her thoughts together when we talked on the
phone. When I arrived at the hospital, I knew that she knew I was present
when I held her hand. All that evening, she tried to get out a few words.
Those last words to me were Please forgive me. In the early morning
hours, she died peacefully in her sleep.
Late in June of 2005, I took a serious look
at the schedule for the American Adoption Congress Conference, which was
to be held in Las Vegas. There were several seminars which appealed to me.
I had a feeling that it would be a good idea for me to make an attempt to
go to this conference, as I had not taken any time the past to do so, except
for attending the Southwest Regional AAC Conference in Albuquerque in January
2000, before I found my birth mother. I knew I had passed the early reservation
dates and might have a problem getting roan accommodations and decent flight
rates. After several phone calls, I had a room for two nights, tickets for
a flight to Las Vegas, and a rental car, all at very good rates.
Upon arrival at the conference, I checked in
and entered a large meeting room and sat down with some snacks. Within probably
five minutes, one of the Board of Directors came and sat down next to me
and introduced himself. We talked for about ten minutes, in which time I
felt right at home. I knew I had made a great decision to find the time to
attend.
There were many good speakers in attendance,
and I learned new ideas and concepts about adoption issues. One of the best
parts was breaking into group discussions, which generally lasted from one
hour to an hour and a half. Hearing other stories was very beneficial in
helping to understand my own situation. It is comforting to know all the
thoughts and feelings I have been experiencing are not unique to my own
situation. Those involved in adoption issues need to realize this. They need
to be involved with a local group like Operation Identity.
One of the best meetings I attended was when
all of the adopted men in the group, approximately 20 of us, gathered to
discuss all our issues. Going into the meeting, I thought I had only a couple,
and after the meeting, I realized that I had many more issues, which I had
never faced. During the first part of the meeting, the women who selected
to come to this meeting, were allowed to sit in on the session, but were
not allowed to say anything until the end, when they were allowed to ask
questions. One of the most powerful questions asked by a birth mother, soon
to be engaged in a reunion, was What is the most important thing I
can do at the (initial) reunion? The answer from the group was, offer
unconditional love. During the second part of the session, only the men were
allowed to attend. The group was led by Craig Hyman from New York. He had
a lot of empathy and insight to offer the group, despite his own searches
for answers to his own questions. It was amazing how close one could feel
to someone after such a short time of sharing.
After the session, four or five of us met for
dinner and talked another two hours. The time I took to attend was well worth
it and I am hoping to continue on my road to recovery. I miss being a happy
person and being able to fully enjoy my family. I have missed so much the
past eight years, while dealing with my adoption issues, and the time has
gone by so fast
I would highly recommend that anyone dealing
with adoption issues make the time to attend one of these conferences. I
only took the time to attend two days, but next year, I will try to attend
all four days.
Excerpted from the October 2005
edition of the Operation Identitiy Newsletter
© 2005 Operation Identity |