Christine here---today I start a new series of stories about Adoption and more to my heart--Adoption Reunions. Today a friend of mine from church shares his story.
DAVE McCANN'S STORY
When you were younger, did you ever wonder why you looked different from your family? Why was your hair and eye color different or perhaps you observed other traits that were different?
In my case, my parents never mentioned a thing about me being adopted. It was never a subject that was talked about.
I started thinking about these things when I was about ten. I really don’t recall what made me wonder about it. Perhaps it was the knowledge of my younger sister’s adoption. I can remember looking at other family members from time to time on both my mom’s side and my dad’s side and wondering why I really didn’t seem to look like anyone.
By the way, speaking of my younger sister, when I was five I had the privilege of choosing her. I can remember being with my mom and dad at the adoption agency where a lady brought out at least 2 or 3 little babies from the nursery for me (us) to view. I was encouraged to choose my sister, so I chose the last little one because she was the only one that wasn’t crying and was as cute as bug’s ear. I thought then and still do think that she is quite special.
Well, one day while I was snooping around in the house, my curiosity about adoption came to an end. I found my adoption papers in one of my mom’s dresser drawer. I was 12 at the time and I remember feeling kind of shocked, sad and a little sick to my tummy. I remember thinking, “It’s True!”
In my heart I think I already knew but didn’t want to acknowledge the fact.
I didn’t tell my mom and dad that I found the adoption papers because it took me some time to get over the surprise, and also I didn’t want to get into trouble for snooping through the dresser drawers. When we finally sat down and talked, I was assured that my sister and I were both loved very much and were as much their children as any children who may have been born to them. In their eyes, there was no difference. I love my adopted family very much and always will. I consider them my real family.
Many years had gone by, but I always wondered if I had siblings or whether my mom and/or dad were still alive. How many uncles, aunts, and cousins do I have out there? What do they look like? What would it be like to see other people that I resemble?
I had no desire to try to find my birth family for the longest time. It wasn’t until sometime after the deaths of my parents that my sister started a search for her birth family due to medical reasons. She tried to encourage me to look for my birth family for some time. I finally gave in and put my name into the Post Adoption Agency in New Brunswick.
I am convinced that the Lord had his hand in this procedure because within a short time, I received a call from the P.A.A. in New Brunswick telling me that I have a birth sister and that she had put in a request to find me within 3 months of my request. Needless to say, I got the goose bumps. Arrangements were put into place for a telephone call that Christmas and the rest is history.
The next year my wife and I made a trip to New Brunswick to both celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary and meet by birth family. I can’t explain the feeling when I saw my mother. She was playing a guitar and singing. I play and sing as well. Now I know where I got the musical talent and big blue eyes from.
The next wonderful surprise was when mom told me that she was a Christian and loved the Lord. Praise the Lord! My sister is my only birth sibling and is 10 years younger than me. I met my 96-year-old grandmother, who by the way, told my sister that I existed. I also met aunts, uncles and cousins that were there all the way from Ontario and P.E.I. What a truly positive experience this was for me and yes, what a family resemblance there is.
I quickly fell in love with my newfound family and I feel very blessed. This being said, nothing can quite take the place of the family that I grew up with.
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