And Then a Miracle Happens: A Story of Search and Reunion, Page 5

Thanksgiving Day was very special as my adoptive mother, John, the kids and I sat around the table. My mother asked us all to talk a little bit about what we were thankful for during grace. When it came my turn, I said, "I am thankful for family — the family who made us and the family who shaped us." I can't really say it any more eloquently than that. Families take so many shapes and forms these days. I have so many good, wonderful people in my life that I consider 'family', yet none are related to me by blood. They respect my humanity and my right to know who I am without it ever compromising the relationships we have. It should be so: no relationship built on honesty and love can ever been shaken or destroyed by the introduction of new relationships or the rekindling of old ones.

Josephine and I have exchanged letters, numerous calls and plenty of photos. She is an open, dear, lovely woman who has managed to shine through an upbringing fraught with adversity and fashion a wonderful life for herself. She is obviously well-loved by her husband, his extended family, and all who know her. I have heard from her neighbors through email, who were only too delighted to tell me how happy I'd made her. Throughout our phone calls, we have not discussed much in the way of details — who was my father, the circumstances surrounding my birth — but at the same time, many questions have been answered and I think we both prefer that those essential answers need to be handled face to face. She described a lullaby she used to sing to me every night — "suantrithe (lullabies)". In 1997, I heard this air again, recorded by Celtic singer, Noírin Ní Ríann and absolutely knew I had heard it before. We are looking forward to meeting in June of this year and I will also be making my first trip back to Ireland since 1961.

I suppose that ultimately I always knew I would find her. Something drove me on and somehow I knew that she hadn't died — that she was out there somewhere. I learned that she did try to contact the agency in Cork on three separate occasions, one a personal visit. Yet they turned her away. As I am sure my mam has, I have shouldered my share of cold indifference, condescension and mistreatment at the hands of agencies. But what is meant to be will come full circle despite their best efforts. I will continue to work to restore the right of adopted adults to their documents of origin. And I will continue to work just as hard to reunite families in Ireland and elsewhere who were separated and, in many cases, destroyed by a vicious system that capitalized on their poverty and ignorance and built a house of lies based on a twisted morality.

For more information on resources and support for Irish-born adopted adults, visit Searching in Ireland and other resources.

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