Final Wish!

This is a big week coming up for me and my birth family. I have a birth sister who was adopted one year before I was born. I have been searching for her for years (with the help of my husband and my mom), but without knowing her name, or having any idea of where she may be living now, it's kinda tough to search. I have had letters written to what was thought to be her adoptive parents' home via a caseworker, but none of these letters have ever had a response...not sure if that means the letters didn't arrive at the right place, or they don't want to connect with me, or possibly my birth sister doesn't know she's adopted, and her adoptive parents don't want her to find out. Who knows!

Well, I'm hopefully about to find out.

A caseworker that I've been working with has agreed to pull her file (to obtain her full name), and begin to conduct searches on the internet i.e. Facebook, Spokeo, Intellius etc. She should get back to me within the week.

Finding my birth sister is the final piece to this massive puzzle of finding my roots. My birth mother has also expressed this wish to connect with her birth daughter, as well as my other birth sister (Carolyn).

Here's to hoping that our final wish comes true.

Chattanooga, Tennessee: Here We Come!

Wow! I really apologize for the lack of posts, but developments have been happening a break-neck pace.  My family and I have booked a flight to Chattanooga in a couple of weeks, as it seems that I have located my birth father!!

How did this happen?

Bryan and I were spending some time searching for my birth mother and her side of the family on the internet one night and were just about ready to turn in for the night, when Bryan said "Why don't we just Google my birth father's first name?   We hadn't googled him at all, because I didn't feel that we would get anywhere, since I don't have any other information about him. I don't have his last name or birth date. Nothing. Well, we Googled it, and found out that there are only 5 other people in the country with his name!  We focused in quickly on the one man who lived in Chattanooga Tennessee (where I was born). We found out that he was in his 50's - which would be an appropriate age.  This search also turned up his last name. Alas, we had a first and last name for a man who definitely fit the profile. We googled this information and immediately found a Facebook fan page for a man whose name matched. We clicked on the page and up popped a photo that gave us the chills!  The resemblance was undeniable.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing, as I have never seen a picture of anyone that I look like. This was almost too much to bear. We scrolled through the numerous fan photos and grew more and more silent with awe with each click. This was him!! Everything was starting to fit together!!

We started reading the posts and trying to figure out what this "fan page" was for. Someone had created this page for him out of love. It seems that everyone in Chattanooga knows and loves him - he is a positive fixture in the Chattanooga scene. He goes around hand delivering flowers to the locals in the bars, and from what people have written on his page - he seems to be a super respectful guy who doesn't always want money, but he just want's a smile. He had over 2,300 fans on this page, and you could just feel the warmth and love that the city has for this man.

One post said: " YAY! Who doesn't love _(I'm omiting his name for privacy reasons at this time)_____??! He's one of my favorite people ever! So happy to see that he's still brightening people's days and warming their hearts!"

So, after debating what our next move should be, Bryan and I decided to email some of the folks who seemed to know quite a bit about this man (from his fan page). So, we emailed four people. I couldn't believe my eyes when I had two email responses within the hour! For the next two days I spoke with these kind people from Chattanooga, who helped me way more than I imagined. These good Samaritans approached whom I thought to be my birth father the next day, and asked him a couple questions.  They emailed me back with what they found out from him, and they agreed that a connection was undeniable.

No one in my family could believe what was happening. We'd spent over a year searching for the birth mother's side of the family, because we thought that we had more information to go on, but then in less than a week, everything unravels on my birth father side, with whom I only had a first name to go off of.  Sometimes you try to make something work SO hard and for so long, when there's an easier way just over the horizon. Isn't it funny how that works?

So, we have booked a flight for the first weekend in June! My parents, sister, her fiancée, Bryan and I are all going for the weekend.   This is just the trip of the lifetime for me. I have dreamed of this trip for as long as I can remember.

So, that's everything for now! Many more posts to come.


The Haiti earthquake grabbed me, and the rest of the World like an angry storm. The horrific and catastrophic proportions of this earthquake left me and the author of the following poem unable to function. I have attempted to come to terms with what has happened and to make sense of it all, but I've found that the more important issue to focus my attention on should be how the World has responded.  

That's what matters.

Humanity,  has taken my breath away.


A child has lost her mother. A child is fighting cancer. A child is buried, dead, under the rubble of her own house. A child is buried, alive, under the rubble of her own city.

               …and the world has not stopped.

Facebook status updates include tasks for the day, drinks to be had tonight, TV shows to be watched tomorrow. Twitter updates share the ratings on new movies, where they’re going to eat, what they’re going to rock.

               …the world has not stopped.

Traffic will still greet me tomorrow, as we go on with our day.  Children will still come to the gym where one membership cost would feed 10 families in Haiti.  Children will play.  Adults will work out, stroking their vanity.

               …because the world will not stop.

And yet the Haitian world was shook today.  Violently.  The terror rumbled through the streets, tearing down anything in its path.  Buildings. Streets.  Mothers. Fathers.  Children.

               …their world, it stopped.

I was once told that, when someone dies, God gives us the initial shock because we aren’t meant to handle all the pain at once.  What does He give us when thousands die…at once?  Where is He?  Is He crying in the streets of Port-Au-Prince?  Is He crushed beneath the ruins of a country?  Is He sleeping beside the concrete piles?

               …did His world stop?

City walls.  Broken.  Homes.  Broken.  Families.  Broken.  Life.  Broken.  A people group.  Broken.  Hearts.  Broken.  The World.  Are we broken?  Broken for the sake of another human life?  Broken for the devastation of a nation?  Broken for the destruction of thousands of families, millions of children?  Are we broken?

Tonight, my world hasn’t stopped.  The minute hand still moves every 60 seconds, taunting me.  This shelter, protecting me, provokes an emptiness.  These clothes, surrounding me, infuriate me.  The cupboards, stalked full, make me nauseous.  The human still awake, dancing to his music, evokes rage within me.  The world should be stopping.  And yet, it moves on…seemingly untainted.

And I move on,  powerless against it. I move on, broken. I move on, hurt. I move on, angry. I move on, confused. I move on, unsettled. I move on, hardened, refusing to be resilient. For I stand against the notion that one person, one family, one community, one city, one country, will recoil back into the same shape after having been compressed.


I am moved to tears by the strength of my dear friend who wrote this. I am also moved to tears by the millions of people who are doing the helping people, and loving on others every second somewhere in the World. In the midst of sadness we need to be reminded that there are great people in this world, working very hard for justice.