As I fantasize about a possible conversation with my birth mother, there are a million questions, but only a few are significant regarding the first few months of my life. When my sister initially made contact with her birth mother, there were letters exchanged, phone calls, and finally a meeting. She did tell me that after the first few minutes of their phone conversation, there was an instantaneous connection that she simply couldn’t describe.  I’m sure this varies with the individual, but I already feel guilty about wanting to know all the answers without knowing anything about her. I’m not sure whether she will be healthy or even living by the time my letter arrives? I’m also not sure that the information that I enclosed will ever get to her. The address could be wrong and there’s still the chance that she is not the right woman. At this stage of life, I just feel lucky that there’s still a chance to reunite, but there’s no way of knowing the odds. I do feel a sense of excitement, but this is not just about me. There’s probably a good reason why she never contacted the Suemma Coleman Agency. If she had, then she would have known my willingness to get together. Instead, I’m the one who has to take the first step, and it may be a bit awkward for her to respond. The problem is that we likely don’t have a lot of time, since her 85th birthday is approaching.

My research tells me that she has only one son that is currently alive, and that most if not all of her seven older brothers and sisters have passed.  It’s also confusing in the 1940 Census, since at the age of 8 years old it appears that she was living with Banister relatives that were born in the early 1900’s and listed as head of household and wife. Although born about the same time as her parents, as listed on my birth mother’s birth certificate, I don’t see how they fit into the family tree? They may have played a role in the adoption process, and could have been responsible for saving my life. If I could play “20 Questions,” this is what I would like to know:

Who was the father?

How did you meet?

Did he know you were pregnant?

What was he like?

What ended your relationship?

Did you ever sing or hum the Marine’s Hymn?

Did you ever stay in touch with him?

How difficult was it to tell your family that you were pregnant?

Were you overwhelmed and frightened?

Was abortion considered?

Was raising me not possible?

When were you sent to the Suemma Coleman adoption facility?

Was that your first time away from home?

Was your family supportive?

Did you have friends that were supportive?

Did you spend any time with me once I was born, or were we immediately separated?

Why the name Jerry Lee, that you also named your next son?

What did you do once you left Suemma Coleman?

Did you have many second thoughts?

Did you remember my birth date?

Did you ever try to find me?

Only my birth mother can answer these questions, so I’m hopeful that she’s willing and able. I will also be prepared to answer hers. In the meantime, I can only contemplate what my life would have been like to have been raised by a high school Junior and her Marine husband, or to have been brought into a very large family, with there youngest daughter suddenly a single mother, as part of a small Southern Indiana town. I would have to think that I was much better off to be adopted and live the privileged life that I experienced. I would probably not be comfortably retired and living in Oregon.