One Perfect Day

by Diane Burke

  Because of all the rejection and betrayals I had faced throughout my life, I saw this as just one more rejection—and this time from the very last person I wanted to be rejected by. I didn’t allow myself to listen to his plans or even try to understand the logic of his reasoning. I took it very personally. Steve didn’t want me. In my mind, that translated to the idea that he didn’t love me. He was pulling away and rejecting me just like my mother, my husband, and my sister had done.

  It took forever for Steve to pound it into my head that this decision had nothing to do with me. He didn’t want anyone to move into his house after the children left.

  No one.

  For privacy purposes.

  He wasn’t rejecting me. He didn’t love me one iota less. He would always be there for me. He even strongly encouraged me to sell my house and move closer so we could see each other more frequently and he would be available for whatever help I should need.

  Around this same time, I had met two people at my church who had also had adoption reunion experiences. One of them had been found by her birth father. She didn’t want anything to do with him. She told him he’d given up his right to fatherhood when he walked away. She even took out a restraining order against him. The second woman I met had had a reunion with her daughter that lasted several years when she received a letter stating, “You are really a nice woman but I have to end this relationship. I have a mother and there just isn’t any place in my life for you.” This woman warned me to tread carefully and guard my heart, that the pain of losing her daughter twice was devastating.

  Now Steve was rescinding his offer. How could I believe it wasn’t personal? How could I possibly believe this relationship would last?

  I love you and this decision was not personal.

  That became Steve’s new mantra and the poor guy had to repeat it almost every time he spoke to me on the phone for weeks, truthfully many, many months, before I finally understood he was telling me the truth.

  I wasn’t being rejected or thrown away. It was old wounds, old fears that had crept back into my psyche. And they came back with a vengeance.

  At the same time Steve rescinded his offer, I was working on the manuscript for this book. This story took me emotionally to places I had buried deep within for almost a lifetime. It made me relive incidents I didn’t want to have to ever think about again, to feel pain I had never allowed myself to process.

  It also caused a deep divide within my family. Some siblings were supportive; others became angry and, eventually, disowned me. They were embarrassed and didn’t want their family’s “dirty laundry” aired for public viewing. They felt what had gone on in our home was private and should be kept that way.

  Also at this time, my health was on a decline. I had been to several doctors, had every test conceived by man, and am still without a diagnosis. Thankfully, today the doctors have me on a medical regimen that has controlled the symptoms, returned the quality of my life, and made living more pleasurable. But at this particular time, when I felt the world was collapsing around my head, I was also sick and housebound and miserable.

  And, of course, it never rains, but it pours.

  My roommate moved out, taking a sizeable part of my monthly income along. One of the part-time jobs I had folded. I suffered writer’s block and couldn’t come up with even one new story idea or plot. All of it resulted in my finances taking a major hit and my stress level creeping to meltdown stage.

  I became weepy and clingy and bombarded Steve on every telephone call with tears and pity-me stories. At first he was sympathetic, but as time went on, the harder I clung, the more Steve pulled away. He became distant. But he still called like clockwork. He didn’t give up and he didn’t leave.

  Eventually the old 2007 thoughts of walking into the ocean swept over me. I was certain I was unlovable, unworthy, and unwanted. Hadn’t life already proven that to me? I could hear all the years of criticism from my mother racing through my mind. I relived all the pain and loss that resulted from the pregnancy and adoption. I relived the pain of my sister’s betrayal and my divorce. My husband, Bill, was dead and I was lonely. My other sons had families of their own and lived far from me so I convinced myself I wasn’t needed. And I was certain my relationship with Steve couldn’t last.

  Poor Steve had to listen to all this garbage. He had just found his mother, someone he had wondered about for years, and she was talking about ending her life. He grew angrier. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t enough to live for, why my other sons and all my grandchildren weren’t enough to make me happy?

  How could he be expected to understand when I didn’t understand either?

  I wasn’t doing this on purpose. I just hadn’t been mentally or emotionally equipped to handle everything that was coming at me all at once. I had lived a life of betrayal and rejection and emotional abuse. I had never gone for help to learn how to cope with the problems and resulting pain.

  My severe depression damaged our relationship.

  But it didn’t end it.

  Steve kept asking me to go back to church. He kept telling me I was a different person, a happier person, when I was on daily speaking terms with God.

  I have no idea why I temporarily stepped away from my faith. When I should have found strength in my beliefs, I acted like I had no belief at all.

  I am deeply ashamed of what I put Steve through and humiliated to have to admit that I did.

  But this memoir is the truth about our reunion and it wouldn’t be the complete, open, honest story if I left it out to save myself embarrassment.

  Eventually I got professional help and it was the best thing I ever did. It helped me process the pain I was feeling and finally close the door on the past. It was like taking off a heavy, sodden winter coat and stepping out into the light. I have faced my demons. My past does not define me anymore.

  I returned to church and, more importantly, I returned to God and found Him loving and forgiving and right there waiting for me. I know I may experience sadness for one reason or the other in the future, but I also believe from the bottom of my heart that I will never fall into one of those suicidal, depressive holes again. Because I know that whatever difficult situations life dishes my way, my Lord is right beside me giving me the strength, the inner peace, and the support I’ll need.

  For the very first time, I can look at myself in the mirror and not feel shame and guilt looking back. I no longer have to wear a public mask. I have always believed no one could like me if they knew the real me. Now, I not only respect myself, but I am proud of my accomplishments and truly like myself.

  When Steve opened that door, he wasn’t the only thing that came through. But I thank God he did because I can truthfully say the past has no more hold on me and I am free!

  Steve, although going through all his own emotions regarding the reunion, showed me infinite patience, love, commitment, and he waited. He more than waited. He continued to call. He constantly reassured me. He put up with his emotional, needy mamma until she could look him in the eye and trust that he wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

  And, finally, one day I got myself together.

  The helium joy faded and day-to-day life took over. I discovered that I wasn’t giddy and silly and almost obsessed anymore with this stranger that had re-entered my life—because now he wasn’t a stranger.

  I was getting to know him and as I learned more about him, I grew to love him more and more each day. I was becoming comfortable with him and no longer walking on eggshells or bending over backward trying to please him. I was just being me, being Mom.

  I found I could talk to him about anything and everything. I could nag him like mothers sometimes do. I could get angry with him every once in a while and he didn’t go running for the hills when I did. He’d wait for me to calm down and then we’d talk out the problem.

  I was happy again, deep in my heart and in my soul happy.

  We never truly understand God’s timing or His
plan for our lives. But if I dare to take a guess, I’d say He set the pieces in motion that would help me heal old wounds and find happiness and peace in the remaining days of my life.

  God knows where I’ve been, how I have suffered from the consequences of poor choices that I’ve made. He knows the pain I’ve endured from the betrayals and rejections from people I should have been able to trust.

  And He knows that I finally and completely turned my life and heart over to Him.

  He has turned my life completely around, from ashes built beauty and joy. What a wonderful blessing and plan He has put in place for me now.

  For anyone reading these words who might be contemplating a reunion, both Steve and I agree, the most important thing to take from this memoir is to go slowly! As my brother said, take baby steps, don’t make any permanent decisions or take any leaps until you truly get to know each other.

  All reunions are intense, emotional, and complicated. It is the past colliding with the present and being faced with an uncertain future. It is joy and pain and hope and disappointment. But it can become a relationship founded on love and blessed with commitment and happiness. By the time people read this book, two years will have passed since that first life-changing telephone call.

  Our relationship is no longer comprised of unrealistic expectations and helium-joy giddiness.

  It is so much better.

  It is normal and quiet and uneventful. It is comfortable and dependable. It is fun and sometimes surprising and, most importantly, filled with love.

  I remember one particular day on Sanibel Island in Florida. Every year for the past twenty years, Steve and Barb took their kids and vacationed with Barb’s family on the island. They’d all rent condos near one another and spend a couple of weeks reconnecting and playing and relaxing as a family.

  Our first year back together, Steve invited me to join them.

  I got to meet Barb’s family and their friends. At one point we were twenty-eight people trying to get reservations at a local restaurant for dinner together. It was a time of fun and laughter, talking, fishing, partying, looking for shells, playing board games and card games and just being together as a family enjoying each other’s company and loving each other.

  I was deeply touched that Steve wanted me included in something so personal and important to him and his family.

  Midweek my daughter-in-law, Barb, was tanning on the beach. My grandson, Kevin, was with his cousins clowning around back at the pool. Steve and his son, Steven, were standing in waist-high water in the gulf and taking turns diving and digging for shells.

  I was floating in the gulf about a dozen feet away from them.

  My son, being an analytical person, came to know me, my personality and my idiosyncrasies, much faster than I expected. I still smile when I think about the resulting conversation.

  “Ma, what are you thinking about?” he yelled over to me.

  “What?” I had been deep in thought, but I had no clue how he knew. To anyone else I would have just looked like I was floating away without a care in the world.

  “You’ve got your index finger against your lips,” Steve said. “You always do that when you’re thinking. So what are you thinking about?”

  He was right. My index finger was resting against my lips. I laughed and moved it. Even I didn’t realize I did that when lost in thought. My son doesn’t miss much.

  “Do you really want to know what I was thinking?” I asked, moving closer to him and my grandson.

  “Oh, God! Do I really want to know, Ma?” He chuckled. “Yeah, sure, go for it. What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking that today is a perfect day—the weather, the water, being here with my family—I’m having one perfect day.”

  Yes, it was going to be okay.

  My son and I have learned how to talk to one another. We have learned how to express our wants and needs with respect for the other’s feelings and not in fear of them. It was not an easy path. It was difficult and painful and stressful for both of us. It took some real commitment and determination to hang in there with each other because we really hit some hard spots.

  But today our relationship is better than ever. We know it will do nothing but grow because we genuinely love each other and are committed to making this relationship strong.

  We came out of the getting-to-know-you process with a couple of those dings and scratches Steve told me about. We may have even experienced a dent or two. But I am sure my son would agree with me that it was worth putting up with the difficulties of building a relationship backward for the rewards of a future that includes both of us.

  Steve and I bonded so many years ago as I talked to him inside my belly on the beaches of Atlantic City, as I hummed him to sleep at night in the darkness of that home for unwed mothers, as I cradled him in my arms in that hospital room and ran my fingers across his soft, downy hair and kissed his fingers and toes.

  Mother and son.

  He’s a part of me—and I’m a part of him—the parts that were missing from both of us. Now we are both complete and whole with no more unanswered questions tormenting us through time.

  Steve summed it up best that very first weekend when his brother, David, and I traveled to meet him. Although significantly more time has passed since he initially wrote these words, these excerpts from Steve’s Facebook page, posted back on April 15, 2012, express the truth of our relationship both then and now better than I ever could.

  My Mom and brother are back home safe and sound after what has turned out to be the best six days of my life!!! Truth be told, I honestly feel like my life is just beginning in so many ways. The excitement of knowing, after all these years, who I am and where I came from, and looking forward to meeting all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins I now know that I have, will be an awesome experience.

  I have to say that meeting my Mom after all these years has filled my heart with a love that I can hardly explain. I miss her so much already. So thankful also to meet David, my little brother, who was just awesome in so many ways, and I look forward to someday meeting my other brother, Dan, and his family. In my humble opinion, if there ever was a modern-day miracle, I truly believe this was it!!!

  To all of my friends and family (especially my new members) who have had such kind words and were so happy and supported me, I just want to say Thank You, and stay tuned, this amazing story has just begun and I couldn’t be happier!!

  This adoption reunion has been a remarkable experience for not only my son and me, but also for our families and our friends.

  Dan, Dave, and Steve have not only “friended” each other on Facebook, but are now an active part of each other’s lives.

  On a recent Labor Day weekend, I sat with Nancy and Joe on Steve’s back porch. We found ourselves engaged in a rambling, fun conversation that covered everything from recipes for potato salad to current health issues to past vacations to making jewelry and other crafts. It was fun and comfortable and relaxed because we’re family, the three of us. We are Steve Orlandi’s parents and we have become friends.

  Life has come full circle for me—from almost ­unbearable loss to precious treasure returned, from two sons and three grandchildren to three much-loved sons, three fabulous ­daughters-in-law, six grandchildren, three step-grandchildren, and a friendship with my son’s parents.

  As I approach the last stage of my life, I know one thing for certain. When my final moments on this earth come to pass, it won’t be what house I lived in, what car I drove, what job I had, or how much money I put in the bank that will be on my mind. None of that matters in the end.

  What matters is the lesson that God has taught all of us from the very beginning when He said, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

  Because that is all that really matters. The people. The relationships. The love.

  Heaven isn’t on Earth. I know that. But my heart is filled with such happiness and joy that I’m certain the good Lord has given me the tinies
t glimpse of how wonderful heaven is really going to be. Until then, I will continue to cherish the memories we’re building. I will hoard the moments.

  In the evenings after dinner when I visit, I sit beside Steve in “Grandma’s chair,” which they bought for my birthday. We rock together, another thing both mother and son have in common. We enjoy the twinkling lights of the palm trees in each corner of the room. We listen to the cacophony of the frogs serenading us from the pond. We play country music and we talk the night away as we have done so many nights before.

  Was it worth the journey? Am I happy I got that letter? Would I have called my son that night in April if I had it to do all over again?

  I can’t imagine doing anything else.

  God is directing my life and leading me down the path He always intended for me. A path built by faith and filled with happiness and joy. I’ve learned to trust Him. I’ve learned to wait on Him because His time and His ways always work out for the best. It may have taken me forty years to get here. The journey may have been over rocky ground and riddled with pain. But I never journeyed alone.

  God was always at my side even when I would choose to ignore Him, He was the first to have my back and He always will.

  I’m in the bedroom and I can hear Steve running up the stairs. He stops at the top and looks at me through the open door.

  “Hey, Ma, where ya been?” he asks. “We’ve got burgers on the grill and everybody’s down by the pool.”

  “Okay, honey, I’ll be right down.”

  He turns and disappears back down the stairs.

  I finish what I was doing. As I turn to leave the room, I can hear Steve’s voice in my mind and I smile.

  Hey, Ma, where ya been?