February 7th, 2000....
It's still vivid in my memory. It was 5:50pm. I went into the kitchen and pulled out a skillet to start making some spaghetti for dinner. "What are you
doing?", my husband, Mike said in disbelief. "You're not really about to start cooking
dinner are you?? Isn't she supposed to call at 6:00?". "Yes," I said, "but I can't just sit here waiting for the phone to ring. What if she doesn't call? I need to stay busy."
At exactly 6:00 the phone
did ring. Mike and I looked at each other with nervous excitement. I glanced at the caller-id. All it said was "Oklahoma City, OK". I took a deep breath and answered the call. The spaghetti would have to wait.
"Hello?"
"Hi, ummm, is this Marcia? I mean, is that how you pronounce your name, like Marsha?"
"Yes, that's right. This is Marcia. Is this...???"
... my voice trailed off because I didn't know what to call her. "Yes, honey. It's me. This is your birth mother." I took a deep breath. I could hardly even believe I was having this conversation. After 38 years, I was finally hearing the voice of the woman who gave birth to me, and believe it or not, it actually sounded
familiar. I knew instantly that it
was her.
I was blessed with amazing parents who adopted me when I was 2 months old, but throughout the years I had often wondered about my birth mother and why she gave me up. I wondered where she was, if she ever married, did she have any other children...? Oh wow, that would mean I had
brothers and sisters! (Growing up as an only child, that was especially intriguing to me.) And what about my birth father? Did he even know about me? Where was he? Did they love each other? SO many questions. --- And she knew it.
"I bet you have alot of questions for me, don't you?" she said. "I sure do," I said. "First off, what's your name?" "Valorie, my name is Valorie". Wow. I know her
name. After all these years, I'm getting answers. It was surreal to me. "Where was I born?" I asked. "You don't know that?????", she said incredulously. "No, I don't know anything", I said. "Oh child, we DO have alot to talk about, don't we?"
We stayed on the phone for almost 3 hours. Both of us filling in details of our lives over the last 38 years. At one point during the conversation she said, "Hold on a minute, your brother wants to talk to you."
I almost dropped the phone. A brother! I have a brother! "Hey sis!" my brother Darryn said. "It's about time you showed up!" I started to cry. This was unreal. I had brothers and sisters now. I had nieces and nephews. I had a step-father. I had brother-in-laws and sister-in-laws. And I had answers... lots of answers. Answers to questions that had lingered around in my head my whole life.
"What about my birth father? Does he know about me?". She got quiet for a minute. "Yes", she said, "he knows, but I don't feel I can give you information about him before talking with him first." That was fair. I mean, we had only had one conversation and she didn't know if I was a kook yet or not, so I thought it was sweet that she felt protective of him, even after all these years. I did eventually get to meet him, but that's another story for another day.
This post is about her. And about how February 7th, 2000 changed our lives. And how it was the beginning of a treasured relationship that I now feel blessed to have with ALL of my birth family.
Tonight, the phone rang. I saw her name on my caller-id.
"Hello?"
"Hi! Well, I have it down on my calendar that tonight exactly 12 years ago at 6:00 you and I talked for the very first time!"
"Oh WOW! It IS today, isn't it?" -- I looked at the clock. It was exactly 6:00pm. I smiled. "And your call is right on time... again!"
She laughed. "So what are you doing?"
"Making spaghetti"... I said. We both laughed. Some things never change.
