John Allen Fiske is the name on my birth certificate but a name I never gave too much thought to growing up, save for the times of unfairness in a child's life: when I had to clean my room, do my laundry or was made to finish my brussle sprouts with a side of liver and onions. That all changed when I, unbeknownst to me, let slip information that I thought to be common knowledge: that I was adopted.
This would not normally be cause for concern or excitement but it happened that I had divulged this information to a friend who possesses two personality characteristics that either bode well or spell doom for my sanity: she has an inordinate amount of free time and loves research. Faster than I could explain the "why" she was asking for my birth name and date of birth, along with any other information I may have had and spearheading a search to find my biological mother, "because I am sure she misses you every day".
The very next morning I find out she has been leaving messages for Florida native who, unfortunately for this Floridian, shares the name and age of my biological mother and happened to come from a military family. Can you imagine the cojones it takes to make that call? "Excuse me, you don't know me, but, in doing some research I notice your father was in the military in Japan. Any chance you had a child you gave up for adoption?" Lo and behold my friend did get through and, sadly, the quest continues.
I've always wondered about my biological parents, much for the same reasons I would surmise all adopted kids spend time pondering: were they superheroes, do we have any crazies running rampant in our genetic pool, why is my nose so big? For the more obvious reasons of finding out a little more about my medical history and finally figuring out why my personality grates on most in that special way, I am glad my friend is researching for me. I've always wanted to know yet, I've always been scared to death to check. I guess I've always rationalized that if my biological parents wanted to know me they'd come looking for me. I've recently come to the conclusion that they may just be sitting at home thinking the same thing.
The dilemma now is how to go about it. Thus begins the journey. It helps having a co-pilot.
1 comment:
Great work.
Post a Comment