Yesterday I subbed at Tolinas Elementary for Rob Oldham, the resource room teacher. It was the perfect antidote to Monday. Elementary school students don't have the raunchy, mean vocabulary that middle schoolers have. It was a later assignment, so i stopped at Nathan's, for kombucha that Daniele ground ginger into, and latte.
Just as i was pulling into the parking lot at school, I got a call from my biological half brother.
Before I left Vero Beach, I contacted my half sister via Facebook private messenger. She didn't see the message until recently. She sent me a nice text.
I called Peter back, after I finished subbing. Parked my car at a park by Lake Hermann, and waited for Peter's call. When I finally heard his voice, i felt joy. I kept seeing shades of pink. I have the advantage of not being surprised by all of this. We talked for over an hour. Four out of six of my half siblings are interested and excited about my existence. The other two aren't, and that is ok. Peter sent me photos of his family. He has three children. I sent photos to him. He mentioned that it was amazing that, out of the two sisters, i contacted Lin, the one who would be more receptive. I told him i think this whole thing is divinely inspired.
No one who isn't adopted understands what it feels like to be given up for adoption. I didn't, and still don't, understand all the feelings. Does every adoptee have a desire to meet their birth parents? Maybe not, now that the process is more open and less shameful. I know plenty of people who have children who are adopted and they are not interested. I wasn't, until my late twenties, when I finally hired a private detective to find my birth mother.
He found her and she didn't want to meet me. She had put that part of her life away, and was a wife and mother of six children. She was also sick with her second round of breast cancer. We exchanged letters and that was it. For a while. Peter was so open and welcoming on the phone.