It’s been awhile since anything new has happened regarding my adoption and related searches for DNA relatives. However, I’ve been very actively monitoring a good friend’s experiences in trying to relate to a child she gave birth to 46 years ago. It’s a similar case to mine where the birth child is much more interested in establishing a relationship than the birth mother. My birth mother and her children continue to ignore my efforts to connect. It’s a personal preference that I have to respect. 

Another door apparently closed last week in my search for information. My birth mother’s last remaining sister passed away at age 90. She was one of seven siblings who most likely would have known of my existence. She also could have been the sister that accompanied my birth grandmother in taking teenage Edna to the Suemma Coleman Home for Unwed Mothers. She might even have known the father and some of the circumstances of their relationship. She took those secrets to the grave with her. The services were yesterday. There was nothing posted on Facebook by either of her living children. It was actually my half-sibling on the father’s side that sent me the obituary. She happened to be back in Indiana and saw it in the local paper. She was home for the annual North Vernon Ghost Walk and I was curious if she created a different costume every year? I told her that my costume this year was a skeleton in the closet, referring to my mysterious appearance in her life last year because of a DNA match on Ancestry.com. We’ve stayed in touch since that meeting with her family. I’m glad she contacted me with the information on Edna’s sister. 

Edna Faye Bannister is now 86 years old and living in Seymour, Indiana. Her son lives near her, while her daughter is in Indianapolis. Sister Eva Joyce Ferguson  was born September 19, 1929 in Shelbyville. Her husband of 56 years died 11 years ago. They had three daughters that would all be my cousins, but only two are still alive. Since Edna’s parents and siblings have all now passed on, any evidence of her secret child (me) is now solely in her heart. Every day that goes by, it seems less likely that we will ever get a chance to meet. My friend just sent a stuffed cat to her birth daughter that she made as a pregnant teenager. She held on to it all these years, just as Edna has to have retained some memories of me. I’m sorry for her loss – a sister is special. As for this door closing, maybe a window will open?