I’m adopted, simple as that. I’ve know my whole life and I’m proud of it. I love my family; however, something has always been missing in my life. Until today, when I begin the search for my birth family.
I don’t have much to go on. My birthday, my name, my father’s name (he and my birth mother are now separated, and I have no clue who she is), and the fact I was born in Rochester, New York. I also have a computer savvy best friend to help me get into old records of Rochester.
So we begin our quest. My father is easily located in Rochester’s tax records, but they state he moved in 2001. “Does it say where?” I question.
“No. We can google him, but that’s kind of risky. How old was he when you were born?”
“Beats me.”
“You’ve never asked?”
“No. I doubt I’d get any information.”
“Just do it.”
And so, I approach my mother and timidly ask “Hey Mom, can you tell me about my father? The real one.”
Her face blanches and she takes a moment to compose herself before stuttering “He was young when you were born, eighteen or nineteen. Something terrible happened when you were very little. That’s why he gave you up.”
I report my findings “18 or 19. Something terrible happened when I was little though.”
“Well we could find the realtor that sold his house in 2001. Let’s see, if he was 18 when you were born in 1995, he was 24 when he left. And since you’re 16 he’s now 34.”
Relator records are harder. However, we get to the bottom of them to find he relocated to Selmer, Connecticut. “According to tax records from Selmer, he still lives there. He has a wife and two daughters.”
“Does he have a job?”
“Yeah. He teaches in the school system. His wife is a designer it looks like. His girls are 2 and 4. Nice house too.”
“But Connecticut is halfway across the country? How do we do this?”
“You’ll just have to contact him.
2 Weeks Later
I sit in front of the computer with a blank email in front of me. Thanks to the Selmer Public Library’s records, I was able to get an email address for him. My head is spinning with millions of ideas. Shakily, I put my hands to the computer and type the letter:
Hello
My name is Amelia Jane Matterson. From what I have come to know, you are my birth father. I now live with my adopted family in Kenston, Texas. I have a strong interest in potentially meeting you. Please consider this.
Amelia
Each day, I check my email many times in hopes for a response from him. For two weeks, nothing comes back. Finally, when I am considering resigning my search, I get a response:
Hello Amelia
I am indeed your father. I live in Selmer, Connecticut with my wife and two daughters. I am a music teacher at Selmer High School. I have been waiting for this moment for a long time and share your interest in a meeting. I will talk to your mother and work things out.
Peter Kendor
I’m overcome with joy. My father wants me. The next few weeks are a blur of planning, plane tickets, transportation from Logan Airport all the way to Selmer, where I’ll stay, a meeting place, etc. Finally, on the morning of April 16th, I board a plane headed for the east coast. After a 4 hour flight, I get off at Logan Airport in Boston. From there, it’s a 5 hour drive to Selmer. Selmer is not unlike Kenston, except it is bitterly cold,the houses are smaller, and everything has a comfy feel to it. I stay at the small inn in town for the first night I’m there.
Meeting day is finally upon us. I wake up early and begin to get myself ready for our 8 A.M. meeting at a Starbucks. I timidly enter, only to see he’s the only patron there. The noise from the door causes him to turn around and our eyes meet. When I look at him, it answers so many questions that I’ve had about myself. I see my hair and that annoying little dimple on my chin. After what feels like an eternity of silence, he breathes “Amy.”
“Dad.”
“Amy…just let me look at you. You’re more beautiful than I could ever imagine. You take after your mother like that. And the eyes…you have her eyes. And her smile. If she could see you now, I bet she’d be so happy.”
“Where is she? Wouldn’t you have wanted to contact her for this?”
“Amy. What I’m about to tell you will answer every question you’ve ever had about who you are, where you come from, and how you ended up where you did:
“It was my senior year of high school. I had never felt happier about my life. That March, your mother came to me crying because she was pregnant. We obviously decided to keep the baby regardless of what happened. You were born that September, and even though it was rough we began college and took care of you. You were named for Amy Pond in Doctor Who and your middle name comes from your grandfather’s name, John. When you were about 6 months old, a bad spring blizzard hit Rochester. Your mother and I were at swim lessons with you when the storm hit. When we came out, we decided to brave the storm and get home. As we were going down a hill your mother lost control of the car. We crashed into a tree at the bottom of the hill at about 145 mph. Your mother was killed on impact, I suffered a severe concussion and a broken leg, and you miraculously escaped with just a scratch. Afterwards was so hard. My mother took care of you for a while as I started healing, but soon I became functional again. I was so distraught and broken up over your mother’s death I couldn’t see straight. That’s when my mother told me ‘You can barely take care of yourself right now, how can you make sure your daughter grows up right? Pete, the right thing to do is to give her to a family that can take good care of her and give her everything she needs.’ And against my better judgment, I gave you up for adoption. The second you were handed over, I knew it was a mistake, but there was nothing I could do to undo it. I just had to wait for you to want to see me. And now I want to ask you something. Would you consider come living with my family and me? We’d love to have you.”
So much information had been given to me in such a short time. “Well…I’d have to talk to my mother first.”
“We discussed this. The choice is completely up to you.”
“Well..can I meet your family first?”
“Of course.”
I end up spending 2 weeks in Selmer. I love the town, the people, the school, and most importantly my family. The girls are enamored of me,his wife is so nice, and the people all love me. I lose my Texas accent in the time I’m there. Finally, on May 1st, I approach my father and say “Dad, I made my decision. Here in Selmer is where I belong. With you, Kathleen and the girls. I’m a Kendor, I just feel it in my bones.”
He is ecstatic to hear this news. I send a final confirmation to my adoptive mother, and I begin my new life in Selmer. I fit right in too. Finding my father was one of the most memorable things I’d ever do.