In the meantime, my adoptive parents were preparing for the adoption of their second child. My brother had been adopted in Albuquerque, New Mexico in 1961 when he was two weeks old. Immediately after adopting my brother Mark, my parents put in for another child, this time a girl. They had received word in early 1965 that a suitable baby was due in February. When I was two months old, I was delivered to my parents and my adoption was completed.
Growing up, I’m sure my parents wondered what they had gotten into. Whereas my parents were both quiet and quite shy, I was not. I was boisterous, bubbly, and a great big flirt with the guys. My Dad’s father had died before I was born and his mother remarried Grandpa Louie. He had this great long beard and I LOVED him and his beard. When my grandparents came to visit, all I wanted to do was to play with his beard. I combed it, put bows in it, and braided it. Grandpa Louie was just as smitten with me as I was him, so he let me do whatever I wanted to his beard. When he died when I was still a small child, I was heartbroken.
I also adored my big brother. He was also a really quiet child but into everything. He is almost four years older than me.
As I grew…people would always say that my brother and I looked alike and just like my dad. Well, of course, that would crack us up since none of us were biologically related. I guess it’s the same old story of people living together growing to look alike.
I always had talked about one day finding my biological parents. I am a curious person and very much wanted to know all about them. My mother always said that she would be glad to help me search when I was a little older. When my mother got sick, I gave up any idea of trying to search at that time. I didn’t want to put any stress on her or on my father.
As time went on and I got married I just put the whole adoption thing out of my mind. I was way too busy to do anything about it anyway. But as I begin to start my own family, my adoption rose to the surface and stayed there.