Adopted

I am not sure what month of the year it was but the weather had turned warm, the flowers were almost in full bloom and the sun seemed to be shining more frequently than in previous months. I do remember the day of the week though. It was a Friday and my mother shared with me that we had been invited over to my Uncle Mark and Aunt Dorothy’s for a visit the following day. I immediately felt I didn’t want to go and asked if I had to attend. I wanted to hang out with my friend Barry at his home around the corner to listen to music, maybe play some table hockey. My friends and I would usually gather there on Saturdays for table hockey tournaments. It was quite sophisticated as far as table hockey games went. We not only kept and tracked scores, but also tracked assists and even penalties. Hours would pass by like minutes as we competed against each other. However, on this particular Saturday, my mother had insisted that I go to my aunt and uncle’s with them. I was not happy about it at all but felt I did not have a choice. Perhaps I could leave early and still make it to my friend’s house. The next morning was normal as far as Saturdays go. Not one to sleep in, I was usually up and dressed and hanging around the kitchen by 8:00 as my mother prepared breakfast. The aromas of coffee, toast, bacon were almost overwhelming in the kitchen. There was always a bowl of fruit containing oranges, apples and grapefruit, placed in the middle of the table. I tended to enjoy toast and bacon, with a spread applied to the toast, and a glass of orange juice. I am not sure what I did the rest of that morning but probably ended up playing some records in my room, maybe watched some Saturday morning cartoons or sitcoms in the family room. The next thing I knew we were preparing to head to my Uncle Mark and Aunt Dorothy’s home just down the street and around the corner. I thought we would walk down the street together however my father insisted on taking the car. Before I knew it we were pulling up in front of their home. The three of us approached the front door and rang the doorbell. Uncle Mark answered the door and ushered us into the living room. My aunt appeared through the kitchen door announcing that she had made some cookies and tea, and would bring them into the living room. I was still wondering why I had to be there on a Saturday afternoon. My Aunt Dorothy soon arrived with the treats placing the tray and the tea on the coffee table in front of the sofa. My uncle had already seated himself on the sofa and my aunt sat on the opposite end. My father and mother each sat in a single chair opposite them but adjacent to each other. I sat next to them on a dining room chair that I had pulled away from the dining table. I have no recollection if their daughter Debbie was present but given she was a few years younger, I suspect she was either in her room or perhaps outside playing with friends. The conversation was light and social at first, mostly involving my mother and Uncle Mark, just like it had been countless times when both families would gather around the table for meals on those special occasions. I remember looking over at my father waiting for him to join in on the conversation and noticed a very rigid and somber look on his face. I sensed he did not want to be there either. He also looked more pale than normal and maintained a quiet composure. I could sense something was not right and then I heard my Uncle Mark state as he turned his head in my direction, “We have something very important to share with you. We have been discussing when the appropriate time would be to tell you and have decided, now that you are fourteen, you are old enough to be told and understand.” There was a long pause. Uncle Mark then continued, “Your Aunt Dorothy and I are your real mother and father, and Debbie is your sister.” I felt like I had been punched in the gut. There were no words to describe the way I felt at that moment in time. I felt disbelief, confusion, and lied to, and by all the people that had anchored my life. I felt betrayed by all four adults seated in that room. My whole world in one statement had been turned upside down, my thoughts racing, “This cannot be real. What was the past thirteen years of my life all about? If that’s true, why did you give me away at birth yet want to be part of my life all these years? Do I have to give up my life as I know it? I don’t want different parents! All those special occasions, those countless dinners pretending to be a happy extended family. And I have a sister? Who else knows about this? Why do I suddenly feel not good enough?” All those thoughts and questions flashed through my mind in what seemed like nanoseconds. To this day, I have no memory of ever voicing a word, not a single question, not one statement. The following days and weeks do not exist in my memory. I have no idea how much longer we sat in that living room or if I drove back home with my mother and father. Perhaps I just walked home on my own, consumed with shock and disbelief. I wished that I had never been told. I had been enjoying life, doing better in school, becoming an accomplished pianist, had countless friends, and the future was full of possibilities. I started to wonder, “How many of my friend’s parents know? Do any of my friends know, but were sworn to never say anything? WHY TELL ME? WHY NOW?”