adoption
Adoption proves that sometimes, you can choose your family; all about the process before, during and after adoption.
MY STORY TO TELL
A LOST LOVE REEMERGES As I learned that life continues, I also learned that good things can come from bad events. As I learned to live life without my best friend, I learned that I still had one best friend (outside of my kids) that I had not considered since my very early youth, my mother. She too was hurting and grieving. My father was her everything. They were married when she was just 18 years old and he passed away just two months before they could celebrate their 42nd wedding anniversary. It was during this time that I became close to my mom. Closer than I ever could have imagined was even possible. My father was just 65 when he passed away and my mother was 60. She still had a lot of life left to live and she didn’t know how she was going to handle the business, the rental properties, everything there was to handle without my father around. I knew it was my time to step up and help my mother, so I did. As I did, I found myself having a connection and a bond with my mother that I truly had desired to have for all of my life. I had suddenly found something I had searched for since I was just a child. It was the mother I knew before Lindsay was diagnosed with Autism. She was back! I was so happy. I spoke to my mom every day; we would talk for 30 minutes or longer. I would help her with things, she would help me.
By Mark Vinsant5 years ago in Families
MY STORY TO TELL
DEATH OF A LEGEND The family was gathered together at a surgeon’s office, we were scheduling the surgery that would go in and remove the tail of the pancreas. At this point, 2 weeks post diagnosis, we were told the cancer had been contained to the tail of the pancreas. Which is the best you could ever hope for with pancreatic cancer. The surgeon wanted to do one more MRI prior to scheduling the surgery so my dad went and had the MRI done, the family went to lunch and was scheduled to be back within two hours to schedule the surgery. It was a somber lunch the best I can remember, which honestly isn’t much. We arrived back at the surgeon’s office, which they called the entire family back to a private waiting room. What happened next, I will never forget. As the entire family sat in the private waiting room, the nurse came and pointed to me and told me I had a phone call. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me with a bewildered look. Everyone that is except for my dad. He knew what was coming, I had no idea, but he did. I should have known from his look. I was curious who would be calling me at the hospital because I had a cell phone in 2005, no one knew I was there that wasn’t with me, I followed the nurse back anyway. She took me directly to the surgeon’s office. He was waiting for me. As it turns out, within the two weeks since the prior MRI, the cancer had spread to his hip and basically all over his body. It had metastasized. Surgery was no longer an option. This surgeon told me my father had between 6 months to 18 months to live. I was destroyed. Crushed, fucking angry as a mother fucker. Tears flowing down my face. I had to put all of that aside. I had to walk back out to my family and act like everything is good. I informed the surgeon to not give my father any prognosis. From day 1, my father instructed all of us to never tell him a prognosis, just to let him believe he had a chance to beat this thing. I made sure that his wishes were met.
By Mark Vinsant5 years ago in Families
MY STORY TO TELL
COMING HOME With the help of my mother, we lined up an apartment in Birmingham and trucked back to Birmingham. We probably spent 3 years total living in New Jersey and I really enjoyed it there. I really enjoyed the winters, because I am a snow lover. I was however glad to be home and to be back on good terms with my mother. It appeared that we had put all the bullshit behind us. Times were good, no times were great.
By Mark Vinsant5 years ago in Families
MY STORY TO TELL
BRANCHING OUT Well, it was official, I was on my way to New Jersey to live away from home for the first time. I was moving with a girl I truly barely knew, but knew enough to know I loved her and I loved being with her. I think it took us two days with one stop in Virginia to get to New Jersey. I honestly had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know what to expect in relation to her family, her faith or that area of the country.
By Mark Vinsant5 years ago in Families
MY STORY TO TELL
INTRODUCTION If you are easily offended by the truth, stop reading now. I am laying it down, 100% of what you are about to read is the truth and it is my story to tell. It is my version of events throughout my life that have broken me, molded me and made me into the man that I am today.
By Mark Vinsant5 years ago in Families
Siblings, Spiderwebs, and Serendipity
What is your wish when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake, or throw a penny in a fountain, or when the clock says 11:11? For me, every wish I made growing up was always the same; that I would someday be reunited with my biological family.
By Emily Wrider5 years ago in Families
Crafting: a life
Before I was born, my mother and grandmother created a christening outfit for me. Mom cut and sewed and stitched all summer long when she wasn't busy working as an au pair in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Grandma tatted lace in a tiny village in rural New York. With the work of their hands, together in creation but apart in location, they bound their love into fabric and turned it into art for a child they'd never seen and couldn't keep. The adoption agency wouldn't let them give it to me. It was the 60s, and anything gifted from the birth mother might "weaken" the bond of the child with its new parents. As if she hadn't already given them the greatest gift imaginable. She had four days before they took me away and she returned to school.
By Deb Bartle5 years ago in Families
A Legacy of Love
D ( T Tamarah to 3 My heart smiles and is filled with love and admiration every time I think about my mom. As far back as I can remember as a child, my mom has always been a pillar of strength for me and my siblings. My father was hardly ever around, he was always in and out of the picture so all the responsibility fell on my mother's shoulders to take care of me, and my 2nd oldest sister Erica who is now 44, and has special needs. I have two other older siblings, my eldest brother Steve 55, and elder sister Samantha 53, who already had left home in their early teens, because of our father's abusive and destructive nature. Our father was an alcoholic. My mom comes from a long line of strong, hardworking, country women who have old fashioned Christian values and don't believe in divorce. For a while my mom stuck with my father, for as long as she could until she just couldn't anymore. During the early part of their marriage, my mom went to nursing school to become a Licensed Practical Nurse, during the time when my older brother was a toddler, she was also pregnant with my 1st older sister Angela who eventually passed away from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome a few months after she was born. In spite of the tragic circumstances my mom persevered and made it through and got her degree, because of the love and support of my grandmother Mrs. Leler bell Rodgers. I think my mom in some way must have instinctively known it was going to get worse before it got better, which it did as my father's drinking habits became increasingly heavier. My mom still held out hope for my father even after the fact he wound up giving up on life as a husband and a father. My mom didn't tolerate any of my father's drunken nonsense, he became a different person when he drank. That person was verbally, emotionally, and eventually physically abusive. My father had different levels of drunkenness at times were somewhat tolerable and could be tuned out and other times in your face hard to ignore. When he became violent towards her and then eventually us, that's when enough was enough. My mom stopped investing her love, time, and emotions into someone who refused to get help and do right by his family. My father wasn't a stable part of my life and when he was around was pretty toxic himself. She taught me at an early age, around five or six how to pray away my fears and trust in a higher power whenever I felt scared or alone, I’m 42 and still believe now more so than ever in a higher power. She kept a brave face on and hardly ever complained through all her test and trials in life and clung tightly to her faith. During my younger days in the 1980's-90's as a child I remember more often than not, I had my issues growing up some typical and some not so much. I got picked on a lot at school because I didn't have what everyone else had, expensive name brand clothes or shoes, my mom bought what she could afford and most of my clothes came from the thrift store and Payless shoe store. Kids can be pretty cruel, shallow and insensitive in school. I struggled for a long time with insecurity, and anxiety. My mom helped me Through my emotional issues, encouraging me always, helping me to understand there was nothing wrong with who I was as a person. As a family we received a little extra counseling from our church and support from some our other family members helped get us through that emotional hurtle. Through the years, she stayed strong, focused on what needed to be done and did the very best she could as the sole provider. I watched my mom struggle for years to make ends meet and at one point when I was 13, my mom worked two full time jobs for eight years. I felt helpless a lot of times watching my mom work tirelessly six days a week for 16 hours straight from one job to the next so I pitched in as much I could and helped my mom out around the house and learned how to cook and clean and also with some instruction from my grandma as well. My grandmother came down from North Carolina periodically when she could take time off from her job and helped my mom out as much as possible. My mom is no stranger to work. When she was around 12 her and aunt Ethel worked in the fields every day after school alongside my grandfather who was a share cropper. My mom used to work in peanut, cotton and tobacco fields different days during the week, and would help my grandmother on the farm on weekends where there where mostly pigs, chickens, geese and a cow. My mom was raised with a strong work ethic and family values that transferred over to myself and my siblings. My mom is a warm, loving, caring mother who always made sure no matter how tired she was she made time for us. Eventually when she found one good paying job my mom worked a little less, and started to enjoy life more. We started to take family trips, go to the movies or have a movie night at home with pizza and popcorn and a fun sleepover with my mom, myself, my sister Erica, and my cousin Kia. As an adult my mom inspired me to be a good person, work hard, and live by these simple codes which is common knowledge to most but until you are actually faced with certain difficult situations can only be relevant and relatable in those moments. Hold your head up in the face of adversity, be strong and confident, fear is just a word not a way of life, and like most things in life can be easily conquered, she powered through hers because she forced herself to. Try not to look how you feel, because stress can give you premature wrinkles as she would say a lot jokingly. Never complain too much about your problems, because it's counterproductive instead just solve them the best way you can, "Do your best and God will do the rest". Treat others how you want to be treated, because you never know that one person you showed compassion to could wind up helping you in return later on in life. Don't let your circumstances or what you see around you determine who you are as an individual or affect your personality to the point where you lose your sense of self, bad things happen in life there's nothing we can do except move forward with the understanding that the world may change good or bad but that doesn't mean I have to change with it.
By Tamarah Davis5 years ago in Families
