Are You My Sister? an adoption story

by Kathy Parsons Williams

  When the phone rang, Dad dropped the egg carton in the sink and Holly pulled the silverware drawer out so far, she spilled every fork we had onto the kitchen floor. Mom and I started laughing so hard we couldn’t stop. Holly started crying and Dad started yelling.

  “The phone is ringing!” he shouted. “Pick up before it goes to the machine!”

  We all managed to compose ourselves as Mom answered the phone.

  “Hello.”

  I don’t know what Sarah said but it was enough to make Mom cry. And of course that set Holly off, and I followed shortly thereafter. Dad was the only one who was still hungry so he made himself busy turning the now-burning bacon. Within a few minutes, Mom ended the conversation with a short, “Call when you know” and hung up the phone.

  Dad handed her a paper towel and asked her what Sarah had said.

  “She’s going to talk with her parents,” she said as she patted her eyes with the paper towel. “We’ll just have to wait to see what happens.”

  Chapter 23

  We stayed home all day waiting for Sarah to call us, but nothing happened. The same was true the following day and the day after that. As the days droned on, we surmised that Sarah had either decided not to talk with her parents or was received in a negative way once she had. In any case, the situation didn’t appear to be too promising. I kept telling myself we had done everything we could on our end and that at least our curiosity had been satisfied should we never see her again.

  But I couldn’t stop thinking about her and what she said that day at the mall. First, she had had to consider a second rejection from her birth mother, and now she had to deal with the possibility that her parents, particularly her mom, would forbid her from having contact with us. After all, her adoptive mom didn’t tell her about the adoption until forced to, and obviously there had been no intention that a relationship between the two families should ever exist.

  Still, I remembered that her mom drove her to Kris’s funeral. Maybe this was a concession considering the gravity of the situation—at the time, we had no way of knowing for sure. Mom, though, cautioned us not to be too hopeful. She reminded us that Sarah was still only seventeen and still bound by the decisions her parents were making for her.

  Before long, life returned to normal inasmuch as it could. Jen and I started our ninth grade year at the high school, and Holly was on her own in the seventh grade at the middle school. Mom started a support group for grieving parents and Dad was putting in twice as much time at the office downtown as he was at home. If Mom and Dad were thinking very much about Sarah, they didn’t say so. Our family conversations focused mostly on memories of Kris—how much we missed her and how sad it was that we had had so little time with her.

  Of course that always led me to think about how short life can be. While we cherished every minute with Kris, we also made the most of each one of those minutes. We loved her, we cuddled with her—she was the center of our world. I doubt there was ever a time that she didn’t feel our intense love for her. Even though we weren’t promised many years with her, we knew that every minute we did have was ours spent together, shared in a way that surely saved us from regret later.

  How regretful could we be if a future with Sarah was to be denied us—if we failed to take advantage of the here and now?

  I stressed over that thought so often I finally decided to act. I knew that Hanover High and Sunset Valley High were to square off against each other in an early season football game. I e-mailed Sarah to ask her if she planned to go to the game. I told her I hoped to see her there.

  I was surprised when she answered my e-mail within minutes.

  “I’m not supposed to be e-mailing you,” she wrote. “My mom is mad about everything.”

  “We figured she told you not to talk to us,” I wrote back. “But are you coming to Hanover for the game?”

  “I’m on the drill team,” she answered. “I have to go to the game. Can you meet me somewhere during the first quarter?”

  “Yes,” I promised. “Meet me at the girls’ restroom. Jen and I will wait for you. Holly will probably come, too.”

  From then and up until the game, I contemplated many times talking with Mom and Dad about my plan, but every time I did, I decided against it. For one thing, I didn’t want anyone to discourage me, or worse, tell me I couldn’t see Sarah. Secondly, I was hoping this meeting would lead to another one, with all of us, and I didn’t want to give anyone—I mean Sarah’s mom—a head start on squelching my plan.

  I knew then what I know now—that it was wrong to defy Sarah’s mom, but given the same circumstances and the same opportunity, I would do it again. My convictions had never been stronger than they were at that time. I was completely convinced I was doing the right thing. I told myself repeatedly I had a God-given right to know my sister and that that right was hers as well.

  I was so sure of my decision, none of the apprehension, feelings of guilt, or any other negative emotion had a hold on me the way they had during my earlier communication with Sarah. By the time Mom dropped us off at the gate leading to the football field, my resolve had me at peace.

  After waving Mom off, we three girls paid for our tickets and headed for the fence that surrounded the playing field. We could see that the drill team from Sarah’s school was already positioned on the sidelines waiting for their team to emerge from the field house. I nervously panned the entire girls’ team looking for Sarah, but Holly found her first.

  “Seventh one from the front,” she said.

  “I see her!” I shouted.

  “Let’s wave and see if she waves back,” Holly suggested.

  Jen pointed out that Sarah was holding her poms at her waist and was probably in formation as all the other girls had the same stance.

  “She might get in trouble if she waves back,” she said.

  I didn’t care if she waved or not. I just wanted her to know we were on the field, and as stated earlier, we would be meeting her in the girls’ restroom.

  We watched the opening performance of the cheerleaders, and when we thought the performance was coming to a close, the three of us started walking toward the girls’ restroom at the far end of the concession stand.

  Once there, I was so nervous my stomach started to ache and my hands were sweating. Jen patted me on the back in that “knowing” kind of way and told me to sit down for a minute on the wooden bench just inside the door.

  “It’ll be okay,” she said. “Take a deep breath.”

  “A deep breath?”

  “My mom always tells me to take a deep breath when I get really anxious. And then we start a conversation on how that never works, and before you know it, I’m less anxious.”

  Just then, Sarah walked into the restroom. Holly rushed up to her, threw her arms around her neck, and twirled her around so violently I was sure they would both end up on the floor.

  By the time their Hallmark moment ended, they were both crying. All of the anxiety that I had been feeling melted and completely drained from my body. I grabbed the both of them in a group hug, and before long, the only one with dry eyes was Jen.

  “Okay, you guys,” she said, “stop before you get me started.”

  Jen’s comment caused an eruption of laughter that eventually calmed all of us. But not for long. Holly asked Sarah about the status of her plans to talk with her mom about seeing our mom.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen. My mom isn’t taking this very well. She doesn’t want me to see you or your mom. I think she’s afraid I’ll want to move in with you or something weird like that. She doesn’t understand, and I really can’t talk with her right now.”

  “You mean never see us?” I asked. “You’re almost eighteen. After that, you can do what you want, right?”

  “Technically, yes, but I don’t want to hurt my mom,” she said as she brushed tears from her cheeks. “But I want to meet my birth mother. I mean really meet
her. But now that my mom knows where you live, she will never want me to come here again. She was nervous about my coming for the game tonight.”

  “But she took you to Kris’s funeral,” I said.

  “Only because I told her I was going to go no matter what. I think there might have been just a glimmer of compassion in her that day, but she’s had time to think this over. I think she’s definitely going to try to keep us apart.”

  My heart sank into my stomach. What now, I thought. Possible solutions to the problem were swirling in my head, but none seemed to promise a good outcome. But something happened the next day that changed everything.

  Chapter 24

  The following day, Holly and I were sitting on my bed sorting old clothes Mom wanted to give to Goodwill. Because it was almost lunchtime, Holly decided she was hungry and wanted to check to see if Mom had started lunch yet.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “Okay,” I told her. “If Mom doesn’t have lunch started, bring me back a PB&J.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I might bring back one for me, too.”

  Considering her comment, I didn’t expect her back any time real soon, so I was slightly surprised when she returned after only a couple of minutes.

  “Where is my sandwich?” I asked as I swept all the clothes off the bed.

  “Guess what,” she said in a very theatrical sort of way.

  “The dog ate my sandwich?”

  “We don’t have a dog,” she replied. “But we do have a sister and maybe her father walking up to our front door at this very minute!”

  “What? Who said?”

  Holly swallowed hard before continuing.

  “I saw them through the landing window. They were getting out of their car!”

  With that, I bounced across the bed, followed Holly out the door, and made it to the front door just as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it, Mom,” I yelled out.

  “Okay,” she answered from someplace else in the house.

  I paused a minute, looked at Holly, and then slowly opened the door.

  “Hi, Sarah,” I said as I tried not to sway too much.

  “Sandy,” she said, “I want to see my birth mother.”

  “Okay by me,” I said only because I couldn’t think of anything else.

  “This is my dad, Richard Hall,” she said. “Daddy, this is my sister, Sandy. And my other sister, Holly.”

  Mr. Hall extended his hand and shook mine and then Holly’s. For a few seconds, we stood there in numbed silence. I didn’t know what to say, and, for once, neither did Holly.

  Finally, Mr. Hall broke the silence.

  “You think we could come in?” he asked.

  Just then Dad showed up.

  “Whoa,” I heard him say under his breath.

  Mr. Hall extended his hand again, this time to Dad and then introduced himself as Sarah’s father.

  In turn, Dad took a deep breath and introduced himself. “And this is Sarah.”

  Nodding yes, Mr. Hall looked a little embarrassed. “I hope we haven’t come at a bad time.”

  “We didn’t know you were coming.” Dad looked back nervously—I knew he was wondering if Mom was on her way.

  “We didn’t know we were coming until about fifteen minutes ago,” Mr. Hall said. “Sarah and I have been driving around all morning talking about this situation and before we knew it, we found ourselves in Hanover and headed toward your house.”

  “Come in,” Dad finally said. “Sandy and Holly will show you to the den. I’ll find my wife.”

  Holly and I each grabbed one of Sarah’s hands and pulled her into the den where we all three sat on the couch. Mr. Hall sat on the love seat. No one said a word.

  I’m not sure what Dad told Mom, but she must have been pretty shocked because when she came into the den, her face was almost colorless. She looked so pale, I thought she was going to faint. Actually, it looked as though Dad might have been holding her up a little. They stood like statues on the other side of the coffee table.

  Well, there we all were, no one saying anything, no one knowing really what to do. Mom’s nose was turning a little pink which was a sure sign she was on the cusp of tears. Finally, I nudged Sarah and she slowly got up, walked around the coffee table, and stood squarely in front of Mom.

  “My name is Sarah,” she finally said through tears. “I am your daughter.”

  Talk about Hallmark moments—this was it. Mom and Sarah embraced so tightly I thought we’d be hearing broken bones at any minute. The tears were coming in a flood, even from Dad. Mr. Hall tried to hold his in, but there was no use. The moment had consumed us all. I grabbed Holly’s hand and we both joined Mom and Sarah.

  After a few minutes, Dad offered everyone paper towels and fresh coffee. He took a cue from Mom and invited Mr. Hall into the kitchen. Holly and I reluctantly followed.

  I sure would have liked to have been a fly on the den wall that day because Mom and Sarah talked in there alone for almost an hour. I still don’t know exactly what was said but I know Sarah got some of the answers she was hoping to hear and Mom was finally able to revisit a hard time in her life and somehow reclaim the very best part of it, her firstborn daughter.

  It’s been almost five years since that very eventful summer when we found Sarah and lost Kris. We marvel at God’s timing and how he blessed our lives at a time when we were hurting beyond description. I can’t say we’ve totally healed from our loss, but each day gets a little easier. Mom was right when she said there’s no such thing as closure—I can’t imagine a day when I will cease to long for my little baby sister.

  The situation with Sarah got a little easier, too. Her mom finally acquiesced to Sarah’s desire to develop a relationship with Mom. Before long, our two families were spending lots of time together. Dad hit it off with Richard, and Mrs. Hall had Mom working with her at a veterinarian’s office two days a week. We all even went on vacation together at some gosh-awful place in Louisiana and had a wonderful time.

  As for Sarah, Holly, and me, it wasn’t quite what Dad had warned us it might be. After I got over the feeling that we had traded one sister for another, the bond among the three of us grew stronger and stronger. Sarah was the doting big sister any girl would ever want. And, for Sarah, Holly and I somehow bridged what was initially an awkward gap between her and Mom.

  There are always “what if’s” to every major life story. There might even be a few regrets—I know Mom has some. But for a young woman named Sarah Hall, her biggest dream came true, and we were a part of it. I can’t truly know what it’s like to be an adopted child, but I saw firsthand the significant healing that took place in Sarah’s heart since reuniting with my mom, her birth mother. Her story was unsettling, but at least she knows where her life and her story began and with whom. How she builds on that story will be up to her. And of course we’ll be building also—right beside her.

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