Golden Strangers

“I've always known I was adopted,” I started. “My parents told my sister and me right from the beginning that we were both adopted from Greece. In fact, they told us in such a loving way that we have always had a great self-image about being adopted. They surrounded the word `adopted' with loving and special words --as a result, adoption became a positive concept for both of us. For this reason I was inspired to write a children's book called Rainbow Bridge: An Adoption Story, which is already published and available on the Amazon and Barnes & Noble websites. I have a copy in the car if you'd like to see it later.” “Yes, I would love to see it!” Mary said. “My parents were the best parents any child could ever have,” I continued. “So my search for finding my biological mother was not because I lacked a good mother or father. I think people who adopt children have to understand this. If your child decides to search for their biological parents, it could be because of any number of reasons. Thankfully, my parents supported me in my search. “Growing up with my sister, Kathy, we were kind of like twins,” I said. Mary asked, “Is she your real sister?” “She is not my biological sister, if that's what you mean by real, but she is the only sister I knew growing up, so yes, she is my real sister,” I responded. I continued, “Kathy is three months younger than me. We were in the same grade all through school, but we were intentionally put into two different classrooms. When my friends would meet her, or I would meet her friends, they would always ask questions about our age difference and the fact that we looked nothing alike. We would hold out as long as possible to see how many ways they could come up with on how we could possibly be three months apart. Some would ask, `Are you half sisters?' Others would ask, `Did one come out first, and the other one stayed in for another three months?' After all, we looked nothing alike. I was dark skinned and she was light skinned. I have brown eyes, and she had blue eyes that later became hazel. I had curly dark brown hair, and she had straight light brown hair. After they struggled for a while, we would let them off the hook and tell them that we were adopted from Greece. Would you believe some of them would still ask us if we had the same mother? They must have really wanted the reason to be that one of us stayed inside our mother's womb three months longer than the other one. “Our looks were not the only things that made my sister and me different. Our personalities were completely different. I was shy, while she was outgoing. I was artistic, while she was athletic. Mom and Dad always tried to make everything even between us. They never compared my strengths to her weaknesses or vice versa. They were educated, and before we came from Greece, they must have read every child rearing book there was. They were married in 1956 and had prayerfully tried for many years to have children. My mom and dad loved each other very much. She waited for him for nine years. They were the best example of unconditional love that I have ever seen in my life. She was twenty-nine when she got married, and he was thirty-five --which was kind of an old age for getting married during that time period. When a couple loves each other that much, the next step is to create a child out of that love. As much as they tried, they realized they were not able to conceive. “So their first attempt at adoption was in the United States. There was a long waiting list, so when they found out that a friend of theirs adopted a baby from Greece in a short amount of time, they changed their plans. My parents were born in New York, but their parents were born in Greece. They used the same lawyer in Greece as their friend and completed the entire process through the mail and over the phone. They had to decide whether to start with one child and then adopt another, or to adopt two at the same time. One thing they were sure about was that they wanted girls. That was my father's wishes, and if that's what made my father happy, then that's what my mother wanted. So the lawyer sent over two pictures of his cutest baby girls (come on, we were!). Once all the papers were in order, we left Greece and arrived at JFK Airport (actually back in 1962 it was called Idlewild Airport) on March 23. It was the week of my mom's birthday, and she said it was the best birthday present she had ever received. They came to the airport with Polaroid and movie cameras in their shaky, nervous hands, with family along to support them and celebrate with them. After the plane landed, my sister was carried by a pilot and I was in the arms of a flight attendant.” “You were on the plane by yourselves?” Mary asked in amazement. “No,” I replied. “They found two people to care for us on the plane ride and in return paid for half of their fare. “We were surrounded right away (I told you we were cute!). They brought us home and we were raised by the best parents ever. We always knew we were adopted, and we loved telling our story, because our parents loved telling our story to us.