Kaleidoscope Summer (Samantha's Story) (27 page)

“Have you discussed this with your parents?”

“They were older when they adopted me and
were gone several years before I
found out. My father died from a myocardial infarction. M
other
died less
than a year later from a
str
oke. They celebrated their fiftieth
anniversary five
months before my father’s he
art attack. Dr. Wallace
, our family physician,
felt my mother
didn’t know how
to keep breathing without my father
.”

Dr. Ellie
stilled her pen
and made eye contact with me.
“So h
ow did you discover you were adopted
?”

“After my
mother
’s death
,
the staff clo
se
d up
the house. L
ast year
,
m
y aunt, who is in charge of the family
trust, decided to sell it
. In the process of the house being packed up,
I received
several boxes containing
my parent
s
’
p
ersonal papers. In one of my mother
’s boxes were letters
she’d received from
my birth mother
,
Anne
Mak
enna
.
”
Had saving Anne’s letters been
my mother’s way of telling me the truth
?

She rested her arm on
top of
the couch
. “
What was your
first
response?”

“Like being stuck at the top of a roller coa
ster
and not sure if I wanted down.”
My stomach flipped
,
threatening to empty its contents
.
I
swallowed hard and with a deep breath
,
I
continued. “
The coaster
finally dropped
, and
my
whole
world changed.
New words
were added to my
vocabulary—terms seeking
to re
define
m
y life
.
”

“What were the words?”

“B
irth mother
.
B
iological parents
.
A
nd
the one I hate
most,
adoptee
.
”

“How did these new terms make you feel?
”
She leaned back and picked up a tissue box from the small table next to the sofa.

I ac
cepted the offered tissue
and dabbed my eyes.
“
I rebelled against them as much as being labeled handicapped because of my deafness.
A
s though
I
’d
been r
ole-playing
my
whole life—
I
wasn’t the
person I believed myself to be.
The words
fought
to characterize me.
And a whole new set of questions were attache
d to my birth mother
.”

“
For today
let’s
concentrate on your adoptive
parents. Tell me about your childhood.”

“I
nteresting
. People often
assumed
my parents were my grandparents—my parents laughed about it. They call
ed me their miracle child. M
y mother
gave birth to me in her
late
f
orties
—or so I
’d been told
. We lived among the wealthy and privileged. I attended the finest
schools. My father gave me a shiny sports car
for my sixteenth birthday
.
I
t was a year later before I even had my
license
. I’d never ma
de a bed, washed dishes
,
or
vacuumed
before I moved into the
college
dorm
.”

“
No chores—you must’ve been t
he envy of
your friends
.”
She chuckled.

I nodded with a shy smile. “
M
ost
of
my friends were given jobs to do
.
”

“Y
ou
seem to
relate your childhood to being given things. Did you feel loved
by your parents
?”

I slipped my foot out of my sandal
and rubbed my
bare
toes in
Goldie’s fur. “
The world I grew up in—i
t
was
different. B
eing a
financial genius
consumed my father’s life
. My mother
supported causes. When t
he
hospital needed a new children’
s wing, she
chaired a committee
and made sure it happened. We never spent an evening watching a movie or sitt
ing around
the table for
a
family dinner
.
I saw more
of my nanny and the other staff
than I did my parents.”

“Certainly a
unique life
style. But I wa
nt to back up a little.
Did you feel loved?
”

She compelled me to dig deeper, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go there.
“T
he main reason they wanted
a child involved correcting
what they viewed as
a
n imperfection in their lives.”
I watched the waves out the
window
. “A
child didn’t
fit
well
into their world
.”
I hadn’t given her the answer in the way she wanted, but I didn’t have it.

Grabbing
her not
ebook and the bag next to her
, she nodded toward the glass
door
s
.
“Let’s
move out
to t
he deck and finish up for today
.
” She
went over and opened th
e slider. “One of these days I
want to have French doors installed.”

I
breathed in the
soft,
salty air.
Two loungers had been slanted toward each other
,
enabling me to see her as we talked.

“I have a journal for you.
” She pulled a book from her bag.
“
It includes a few short articles you may find helpful.
There are also
a few
scriptur
e references
, and
several pages to jot down
your comments
. It’
s for your personal use
. You’re welcome t
o share it
, or keep it private. T
he fruit of your journaling will natu
rally flow into
our sessions
.
”

She
handed me the journal
and I
fanned through the pages. “I started jo
urnaling as a teenager
.”
I thought of my tattered journal and the situation with Lilyan, it saddened me.

“It’s
a great to
ol.
Getting in touch w
ith our inner self is important—especially
when we’re searching for answers.
”

“The session
today
helped. Maggie said you’
re easy to talk to—I agree
.
”

“I’m glad
.
The purpose of counseling is to have an objective person help you navigate
through a difficult situation
. It’s not uncommon for an adoptee to have numerous questions. In your case, it’s more complicated because the people who could’ve helped
you
resolve your conflicts are gone.”

“Can we continue
on a trial basis, see how it goes?”
My fingertip traced a hand-painted rose on the soft cover of the journal—I
wished my life were
so perfect.

“Definitely. Y
ou
can end the sessions anytime you feel they
are no longer beneficial
.” She paused. “
M
ay
I ask one more question?”

Tightness
gripped my in
sides as I nodded
for her to continue
.

“It su
rpr
ised me today—y
ou
didn’t bring up your loss of hearing
.
I’d
like to talk about
wher
e you are emotionally with
your deafness
.
”

“I’ve made peace with it.
In my mid
-
tee
ns I became i
ll with meningitis
.
I could have died, so being deaf wasn’t the worst possible outcome.
I have profound
hearing loss in one ear and severe hearing loss in my other ear.
My parents consulted doctors all over the world to find a solution, to no avail.
”

“You
lip-read
amazingly well.”

“I do. But I couldn’t possibly read every word, so I
’ve learned to fill the
blanks.”
Me
mories of my parents rushed to the surface
.
“
My mother
forced me to attend therapy and cou
nseling.
I hated it.
But t
hanks to her
per
sistence
, I excel at
lip-read
ing and
I’m fluent in
American Sign L
anguage
.”

I stroked Goldie’s fur.
T
he way my parents pushed me to overcome the limitations of deafness
gave me a new insight
. H
ow many
ways could
a parent say I love you?

The session ended and I felt
encouraged
. Within me, hope
mixed with
an equal amount of
trepidation. F
ind
ing
the pieces would require traipsing down a path overgrown
with deep-rooted weeds
to find the beauty of the rose.
Fath
er, please help me find the rose
.

Chapter
Twenty

I c
ruised
down the highway, m
y thoughts
captured by a beautiful
woman with
eyes the color of the sea
.
Perhaps,
summo
ned by my dreams
,
she app
eared. Sam
strolled
along Shoreview Drive
with Goldie trotting along with her.
I
stopped
and lowered the window
.
“Need a ride?” Her
smile sent a surge through my veins
.
I had a serious problem, falling for a woman who was soon going home.

I reached across the console and pushed the door open.
Goldie jumped in
and maneuvered to the back.
“
T
he day was so inviting I decided to walk
—the
road hom
e felt
longer.
”
Sam reached up and pulled the strap across her.

“O
n my way
to drop
some
documents
at
C
ity
H
all.
If you haven’t visited the
Time Square, I’d
be
happy to be
your personal tour guide.” I pointed to a file folder I’d stuffed between the console and the seat.