By AMY SHANKLAND
Perfectly Imperfect
As my adoption and reunion story continues, I’ve changed some names, places, and dates.
I told Jack about the Notre Dame alumni publication that started the path that led me to find him. I could almost see him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.
“Oh, there are a lot of stories associated with that,” he commented. “But that will have to be for another time.”
I went on to tell Jack about my family and a little about growing up. He asked some questions about my sons, Jonathon and Jacob. I also let him know about the dilemma with my mother – how she hadn’t supported the idea of me trying to find my birthparents. He was sorry to hear about my struggle on that issue.
Jack shared some information with me about his life. He was originally from Evansville, but he and his family moved to Indianapolis not long after he was born. He did indeed have eight brothers and sisters, and Jack was the youngest boy. One sister had passed away at age 68 due to cancer and one brother had died in an automobile accident when he was young.
“I probably have more than 25 nieces and nephews and over 30 great nieces and nephews,” he said. It was hard for me to wrap my head around the thought of such a big family, although my maternal grandfather did have 10 brothers and sisters. I remembered that their reunions had been enormous.
I found out that Jack had suffered a mild heart attack not long before our conversation but had completely recovered. Other than that incident, he was in excellent health besides occasionally dealing with back pain. He had two daughters. One was an architect who lived near Baltimore, Maryland with her boyfriend. Another was an engineer who lived in Raleigh, North Carolina with her husband and little boy.
“I think I’ve seen them on Facebook,” I replied, once again feeling a little uncomfortable. “Please don’t think I’m a stalker or anything. There’s just a lot of information out there and pictures. Anyway, you have beautiful girls.”
Jack told me that his wife did know about me, but he hadn’t told her until a couple years after they were married. She had expressed frustration that he had taken so long to tell her. I sensed there was some tension around that topic but didn’t want to dwell on that for our first conversation. I don’t think he wanted to, either. Neither of his daughters knew about me, but Jack said he would like to tell them sometime soon.
Before I knew it, Jonathon and Jacob were approaching the van. Fortunately, Jack had to hang up at that point as well. But we agreed to talk in another week or two, hopefully for a bit longer. When we did chat again a couple of weeks later, the hope that had led me to write to him became a reality.
“I have a sister and brother-in-law who live on the northeast side of Indianapolis,” Jack said. “We’re visiting them this summer. I’m wondering if you would like to meet maybe Saturday, June 13th? Perhaps at a local coffee shop?” I felt dizzy hearing his question and was grateful I was sitting down.
“Yes!” I exclaimed. “I would like that very much.” I hope I didn’t sound overly eager. But this was yet another dream come true for me.
“OK, let me confirm everything and I’ll let you know for sure in an email.”
It was so difficult to not run around the house in excitement after I hung up minutes later. I wanted to share the great news with not only my husband John, but my sons as well. But I was still nervous at that point about burdening them with such a big secret as teenagers.
In just three weeks, I was going to meet my birth father. I could hardly wait.