My Non-ID; October 2012.

July 7, 2014

As I dashed through the contents of my package I discovered that DSS had a new director, and that she played for keeps! This time we were on the same side! I had page after page of medical reports, foster care observation notes, details on my mom and dad, and even stuff on my aunts and uncles. I finally had an understanding of my origins. Due to my work schedule, I was unable to hit the internet for searching until Friday evening. It was on Wednesday that the package had arrived.

Complete euphoria is how I describe my feelings over that Wednesday. By Friday I was once again focused and determined to find my family. My greatest fears were realized. My mom, Kathleen Marie Foster, had died of cancer on October 23, 1995. She died 12-years before my adoption discovery. 17 1/2-years before I found her.

I somehow always knew she was dead. I have strong feelings that way sometimes. Also, I know I have an angel who watches me. Now I realize it is my mom. She visited me during my twilight sleep at Strong Hospital a few days after my surgery. She told me that my work was with adoptee rights. She also said that in time I would know everything. I couldn’t see her face, only her outline with a bright white aura completely surrounding her. Actually, I had attributed it to the morphine, but now I understand it was my mom’s spirit.

The feeling of loss overwhelmed me. It was 2:00 AM and I sat here staring at this computer monitor in shock, but not disbelief. Then it hit me. It hit harder than all the grief of my lifetime rolled together at once. The hurt. The sorrow, The sadness. I was exhausted. My mind and my body were numb. All of my hopes for reunion were gone just as fast as they appeared only 2-days before. As much as I was prepared for her death, finally realizing it sucked. I sat at my desk and cried the hardest I had ever cried before in my life. That night I took enough Ambien to tranquilize a draft horse. I needed sleep and rest. I needed something else, but I didn’t know what that “something” was. Whatever word is out there that is stronger than “devastated” that was me that early morning. I cried so hard that my entire body shook. I had never lost control over myself like that before. I hope never to again.


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