by Diane Burke
Almost two-and-a-half hours later, I said, “Steve, I’m so sorry but I have to hang up. I’m so hoarse, I can hardly speak another word.”
“I understand. Would you mind if I call you again?”
I laughed. “I’d mind if you didn’t.”
He chuckled, too. “Okay, how about seven o’clock tomorrow night?”
“Seven it is.”
Steve did call me at seven. He called me at seven o’clock the next night and every night after that for months. He still calls me three or four times a week, even now after the newness of our relationship has worn off. We miss our calls only when life gets in the way and he has something else he has to do or someplace he has to go.
Sometimes the calls are brief. How was your day? How are you feeling? Just short calls to touch base with one another. Sometimes the calls go on for hours. We laugh and joke and tease one another. He’s easy to talk to—witty, sarcastic, intelligent—and I truly enjoy our phone conversations.
I say prayers of thanksgiving every night. God knows that I consider myself amply blessed because this witty, sarcastic, intelligent man is my son, and he has finally come home.
Chapter
12
Diane
The next few days passed in a haze. I’m sure my feet never touched the ground. I was happier than I thought humanly possible and all I wanted to do now was see my grown son face-to-face. I spoke to Steve on the phone for hours on Tuesday and again on Wednesday and Thursday. I was already thinking about driving up to meet him and his family.
My brother was the voice of reason. He kept telling me to slow down, not do anything right now. He didn’t want me to appear to be a stalker or an emotionally needy person who might scare Steve away. He kept reminding me, too, that although this whole situation was wonderful and Steve sounded like a nice guy, he was still a stranger.
My brother told me I should play it cool and let him come to me. That maybe we could plan something in the near future where Steve and his family could come to Florida. Then my brother and his family, as well as my son, Dan, and his family, would be present when Steve and I met. He thought that scenario would make it easier and less awkward for everybody.
Logically, that made perfect sense.
Emotionally, I wasn’t so sure.
Steve and I really hit it off on the phone. We could talk to each other for hours as though we had been with one another our entire lives. Deep inside, I really thought he’d want to see me as much as I wanted to see him. And, boy, did I want to see him.
Wednesday morning, when I went on Facebook to check my updates, I discovered that Steve had posted about how wonderful it had been to talk to me on the phone and how happy he was to have finally talked to his mother. It was a beautiful posting. Perusing Steve’s Facebook site, I also discovered that he and his family were planning to come to Florida in July.
Wednesday night, I decided to call Steve and thank him for the lovely posting. Barb answered the phone.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, “And I promise that I won’t be calling you every night and driving you crazy but …”
She immediately interrupted me. “You are Steve’s mother. You can call this house whenever and as often as you like.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Barb was so sweet. When I later discovered that she and her daughter, Kristin, had been the driving forces throughout the search, I was surprised at the amount of encouragement and support she’d provided my son. After I got to know her better, though, I was no longer surprised; she understood how important it was to Steve to find his mother and she loves him.
“I was wondering if I could talk to Steve,” I said. “I wanted to thank him for the lovely post he placed about me on Facebook.”
“He just got in from work. He’s in the shower. I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets out.”
“Okay, fine. Listen, I saw that your family is planning a vacation on Sanibel Island in July. I was wondering if maybe we could arrange to meet somewhere while you’re here.”
“What are you, crazy?” she asked with her heavy New Jersey Italian accent.
Uh-oh! Maybe my brother was right. I was moving too fast and blowing it.
“Steve’s been looking for you for over three years,” Barbara said. “Do you really think he’s going to wait until July to meet you now that he’s found you? You have to come up with something earlier than that.”
I laughed out loud.
“Good,” I said. “Well, then, what would you think of me driving up there this weekend and surprising him?”
“What?!” Barbara sounded so excited and happy. “You’d do that?”
“If Steve can search for me for three years, the least I can do is drive a few hours to see him.”
“Oh my god, he’ll die! He’ll fall on the floor! That would be wonderful, but I’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”
“Oh, Barb, please, you have to. Think how great it will be if we can pull this off.”
“Okay, I’ll try, but you don’t know Steve. This isn’t going to be an easy-to-keep secret.”
So our plan was launched. When Steve called that night, I didn’t give any indication I would be seeing him soon. I’m glad we were on a regular phone and not Skype, though, because if he could have seen the wide open grin on my face during the whole phone conversation, he would have known something was up.
Thursday morning I set things in motion. Getting my hair cut and colored so I’d look my best. Getting an oil change and a couple of new tires so I’d feel safe in my old clunker automobile. Arranging my work schedule so I could have the next day off.
Everything was going smoothly until my ex-husband, Danny, who had become a friend over the years, told my youngest son, David, what I was planning to do.
Then the phone calls started.
“Mom, you can’t drive your car there. It’s got 168,000 miles on it. What if it breaks down on the side of the road?”
“I have AAA.”
“Great. So they tow you to the nearest repair shop. Then what?”
“Okay, so I won’t drive my car. I’ll rent a car,” I replied, and a lengthy conversation about what kind of car and what car rental company to use ensued.
“Look, you haven’t been feeling well lately, I know your stomach has been bothering you,” Dave said. “What if you get sick?”
“I’ll be fine, David, stop worrying.”
“It’s a long drive for you, Mom. Are you sure you can do it on your own?”
‘Yes, I can do it on my own. Stop worrying.”
The day passed in a blur of last-minute errands and activities when I got David’s final telephone call early that evening.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Yes, David?”
“Don’t rent a car.”
“Why not? I’ve just left a car rental agency and arranged to pick one up in the morning.”
“Well, don’t, because I rented one for us. I’m at the Daytona Beach airport and should be at your place in about twenty minutes.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He had flown in from Virginia.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Did you really think I was going to let you drive all that way by yourself? What if something happens on the road? And I’m not going to let you walk into a stranger’s house alone. Besides, I want to meet my brother, too.”
I was deeply touched that David was going to all this trouble for me and, truthfully, very glad for the company. The older I get, the harder it is making long drives.
Then I started getting calls from Barbara.
“We’ve got a problem,” she whispered.
“What?” My heart sped up and now I started to worry. “Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m standing in my closest so Steve doesn’t hear me on the phone with you.”
“What’s the problem?”
“He’s coming to you.”
“What?” I was in shock.<
br />
“He called me and told me he was taking Friday off from work and we were going to drive down there for the weekend.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him that I couldn’t get Friday off. He questioned it, at first, because he knows I can pretty much take any time I need off, but I told him that there was a big staff meeting that day and I couldn’t miss it.”
“Well, it sounds like you handled it well.”
“Not really. He told me he took Monday off. He called to put the dogs in the kennel. I had to call the kennel after he did and tell them we’d changed our minds. They probably think I’m crazy.”
Both of us laughed hysterically.
“I’ve never lied to my husband in nineteen years as much as I’ve lied to him in the past twenty-four hours,” Barb said.
I laughed again. “Well, stop lying. Let me lie to him. Tell him he should call me tonight and make sure that I’ll be home this weekend before he makes the trip. I’ll do the rest.”
Like clockwork, Steve called at seven.
“Mom, I was wondering if you would mind if Barb and I came down for the weekend? Don’t worry. We wouldn’t expect to crash at your house or anything. I looked it up online and there are plenty of hotels in your area. I was just thinking that maybe we could grab a cup of coffee or lunch or something and meet in person.”
I could hear the hopefulness in his voice and I felt really bad about what I was about to do.
“Oh, Steve,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I won’t be home this weekend. I am attending a writer’s conference down in south Florida. Normally, I’d gladly cancel, but I’m teaching one of the classes and I can’t. They’ve had it set up for months.”
“I understand.”
I could hardly bear the deep disappointment I heard in his voice.
“Well, when can I come?” he asked. “I have other obligations the next two weekends but then I’m free.”
“My brother, Michael, and his family will be coming to Florida for vacation around May 19. Why don’t you plan on coming then? You’ll get to meet two of your uncles and their families and probably one of your brothers and his family, too.”
A long, heavy silence filled the airwaves.
“Okay,” Steve said. “I’ve waited forty years to meet you. I guess I can wait five more weeks.”
My heart broke for him, but I was grinning from ear to ear. This surprise visit was going to be awesome!
Steve
Friday the thirteenth arrived. I am not a superstitious person. I don’t freak out if a black cat crosses in front of me. I’m not afraid of walking under ladders. And I definitely never gave Friday the thirteenth a second thought as anything other than the title of a bad teen horror flick. But I won’t ever forget it now. For me, it will always be one of the luckiest days of my life.
By Friday, after several lengthy phone calls with my mother, I knew I had two brothers. My mother had told me that both brothers were very happy and excited that I was back on the scene. A flurry of Facebook friend requests and confirmations occurred while everybody was scurrying to get an even better peek into each other’s lives.
That’s the best gift that Facebook has ever given me. I was able to see pictures of my mother and both my brothers instantly when I got off the phone that very first night. I have to chuckle because I know my mother ran to Facebook that night, too, to see what her son and her grandchildren looked like as well.
I friended one brother, Dan, and he never responded. I friended the younger brother, Dave, and he responded right away with a message welcoming me to the family.
The second night on the phone, my mother told me that my brother, Dan, had pulled back a bit and was going to do this a bit more cautiously, which I completely respected. Like I’ve said earlier, the last thing I ever intended to do was disrupt anybody’s life. Whether I liked it or not, I understood that everybody had a life of their own for forty or so years without me in it, and I had to be respectful of that fact. But this was unknown territory for all of us, including me, and it wasn’t easy.
Adoption reunions do nothing but disrupt lives. No matter if the reunions are perceived to be good, bad, or indifferent, they’re going to disrupt lives. So that’s the responsibility, or maybe the cross, that I had to bear, knowing I was knocking at a door that some people may not want to answer.
I heard back from David right away. He was ecstatic. He was so thrilled and he told me that he felt blessed that his big brother was back in his life. He told me he’d known about me for years, but he had never really believed he would ever have the opportunity to meet me.
His message made me feel welcome and put me at ease. I fired a message back saying I was equally as thrilled to find out I had a baby brother, which is something I had hoped was true since my teens.
I was still waiting for a response from Dan, who seemed to be taking a “let’s just wait and see where this thing goes” approach. I can say now that I’ve gotten to know him that I find I am very much like him. I am also a cautious individual, particularly when it comes to anything that would involve my wife and my kids, and I like to know that whatever situation I present them with is as safe and controlled as possible. So his hesitancy to friending me on Facebook was not an insult in any way, but it was a disappointment.
That first week after I’d spoken to my mother for the first time, I was riding a roller coaster of emotions. I experienced the high of one brother acting really, really excited and then the low of the other brother kind of pulling back. As conservative as I had been through the whole process, I had discovered that I wanted to make instant contact with all three of them—my mother and both brothers. So when Dan pulled back, it affected me. I don’t really know what word to use to describe how I was feeling at that moment. Perturbed? Annoyed? It surprised me a little bit in a negative way because why, after your long lost brother has found you, wouldn’t you want to rush right in and greet him like you see on the television shows?
But life isn’t a television show, is it?
As the days and weeks unfolded, my mom would explain more and more to me about the family dynamics. She went into more detail about the problems my brothers had gone through, what the family had gone through, and specifically what my mother had gone through, and I realized what a hard life they had had. It put into perspective why Dan wanted to take it slow, and I was able to completely understand his reservations.
But since I didn’t know these things in those first couple days, I guess I was feeling a little bit stung at the time.
I definitely was having mixed feelings that Friday, the thirteenth.
I had had a particularly hard day at work. People had called in sick and my work load had doubled so I was hot, sweaty, and exhausted when I pulled up in the driveway.
I had seen on Facebook that my brother, Dave, and his wife, Esther, had recently been visiting her family in India and Dubai. I sent him several messages after his initial welcome message to me, but he hadn’t responded to any of them. I couldn’t help but wonder if his trip out of the country was the reason or if it was something else.
I still had no response from my brother, Dan.
Then trying to get down to meet my mom on the weekend only to find out she had other plans—which I totally understood. After all, I’d contacted her for the first time on Tuesday, and this was Friday. She had a life, and who was I to come in and mess it up?
But … all three things had started my mind down an uncomfortable path.
My brother, Dan, was still missing in action. My brother, Dave, who had been so excited and enthusiastic was suddenly silent. My mother was busy—or was she? I couldn’t help but wonder if something else was going on. You know, what salespeople call buyer’s remorse? You get all happy about a purchase and then you get home and second-guess yourself and wonder if the purchase was a mistake.
Those thoughts tormented me at the time. Were these excuses legitimate, or was my newfound family feeling “buyer’s re
morse”? Should I gear up for some hurt and rejection?
The last thing in the world I expected on that Friday was what I got.
I was tired. I had had a tough day at work. My mind wasn’t on a potential surprise visit from anybody. I was still thinking that David wasn’t even in this country from his visit abroad and my mother was on her way to southern Florida for a writer’s conference.
When I opened that door and saw my mother and brother standing there waiting for me I was shocked. I didn’t get emotional or shed any tears or anything. I was literally, to my bones, shocked.
From Tuesday to Friday, I’d gone from finding out for the first time that my mother was still alive and that my brother even existed, to coming home three days later and finding them standing in my kitchen.
Yeah, I was shocked and numb.
The first thing I can remember thinking is, Oh my God, I can’t believe they made the trip to come and see me. I was also astounded that my wife wasn’t just in on it, but that she’d been able to keep it a secret. (Everybody who knows me knows I’m usually a nosebag and can find out everything.)
A quick look around the room revealed that my two sons were also there. My stepdaughter was crying and my wife’s eyes were filled with tears. I saw how happy everybody was for me.
I’m not really the kind of person who suffers from a loss of words very often. Truthfully, I’m not shy about sharing my opinions and can sometimes be a bit too blunt when I do. But this day, on this particular Friday, I was at a complete loss.
As my mother wrapped her arms around me and I hugged her back, I was speechless. I was hugging my mother for the first time!
Thankfully, my family recorded the meeting so I’ll have a video to always remind me, as if I’d ever forget. It was an awesome, awesome day. What can I say? Hugging my mother and my brother. Holding both their hands in mine, I took my rightful place in the middle of the chain—a chain that had been broken for decades and was now complete.
Yeah, I was at a loss for words. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live. It was one of the highlights of my life, right up there with my marriage to Barb and the birth of my sons. We had the most fantastic weekend ever.