A wise Chinese gentleman was leery of my quest to seek the past. “You’re a different person now and there’s nothing to gain,” he pointed out. “You simply came through her,” referring to my birth mother.  It made me feel like an alien, using her body to enter this world. “You didn’t come from her,” as is common with most children, he seemed to imply. It made me think that adoption was the means of shedding my alien skin and taking on a new identity. I even have visions of Sigourney Weaver (Ripley) watching the frightening creature burst from the chest of John Hurt (Kane) and escaping into the depths of the ship. Since my escape from a Banister birth, I have truly become a new person thanks to the Johnston name and the opportunities that came with the association. I’ve changed names, gotten a college education, had a son of my own, found a successful career, and am currently enjoying retirement. Unlike the movie nightmare, my life has been a dream.

In reflection, I somehow felt that something was missing. I needed to know the reason for my existence. After my adoptive parents passed away, I began to get more curious about the two people that gave me life. In the process, I’ve learned their names and have met members of their family. My biological father is dead but the mother is still alive at age 86. I have mixed feelings about wanting to meet her, and have been frustrated with the refusal of both her son and daughter to acknowledge my letters. They obviously are not as curious about me as I am about them. I’m a complete surprise to them, whereas I’ve had years to finally make my decision to contact them. My only connection with them is through Facebook where I find hints about their lives. Their mother apparently does not admit to being my mother. I do understand their loyalty, and I’m uncertain as to my next step as the alien. 

I got a tip from a friend yesterday noting there was a Facebook post from her son about “prayers for my mother.” Not knowing the nature of his plea, I honestly had mixed thoughts. If she was dying, it would be too late for a reunion, as was the case with the father. However, there was also a sense of relief that my search might be over. Instead, additional comments to the post included that the health concern was over “heart tests.” Apparently, all is well. Now, I just wish there was a place in her heart for me.