Category Archives: Search

Who Would Have Guessed?

We never know how life is going to turn out. All we can do is make plans, try our best, then be prepared to make changes when necessary.
When I started my search for my birthmother, I hadn’t realized that she had passed away the year before. However, during my search I came across a fabulous women, her family historian and self-proclaimed romantic, who wound up helping me sort together the pieces of my life. She helped me get a story. My story. The story I go into detail in Call Me Ella. You see, Ella was Elaine’s favorite aunt. She missed her favorite aunt. In a way, I think I brought her favorite aunt back to life.
And where am I now? I’m totally awestruck that I am sitting on my new porch, enjoying lunch, overlooking a golf course, in the condo I just bought right above my new, favorite cousin Elaine.
As we were watching TV last night, both of us missing our husbands, mine is out of town on business and Elaine just lost hers to cancer, Elaine looks over to me, smiling, “Fifteen years ago when you sent me that first letter asking if you looked like anyone in my family, did you ever think we’d be sitting here today, living next to each other, watching tv?”
“Never in a million years,” I replied.
I never did meet my birthmom, but sometimes things do work out. Just not the way we ever imagined.

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Happy Birthday to Me

So many years I thought my birthmother died during childbirth. On my birthday, more than other days, I felt guilty. My existence took her life.
When I learned that she hadn’t died in childbirth, it took a while for the reality to sink in. She relinquished me. Whether by choice or not, she went on living a life without me in it.
Now, on my birthday, I think about my birthmother and wonder if she thought about me every year on this day in August.

When do you think about your birth family the most? Are there triggers?

The U.S. Census and Adoption

I don’t want to dwell on being adopted. It really shouldn’t affect my life. I got the family I was meant to have. I believe it. However, I’m surprised how I’m constantly reminded I’m an adoptee.
I got a form from the census bureau in the mail today. I was instructed to go online and answer some questions. One in particular really surprised me. They wanted the relationship of children living in the house. They listed the usual: son, daughter, parents, etc. then they added step children and adopted children. What does being adopted have to do with the census? I thought, by the process of adoption, one became the “real” child. Why make this distinction?
Then, they wanted to know my ethnicity in detail. The country of my origin. What about adoptees who don’t know their background? They don’t have a check mark for “don’t know.”
Really.
This morning on The View, actor Jay Thomas announced how he recently reunited with his son. And they were so much alike. What about the non-celebrities who can’t find their birth families?
My favorite. I just received test results warning me that I am pre-diabetic. After cutting out almost all sugar from my diet and adding exercise, my numbers are getting worse. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I have recently learned this condition, for me, is genetic. My two bio half-sibs had, have diabetes. One passed away very young.
Like it or not, an adoptee rarely forgets they are adopted.
I know I don’t.

What reminds you about your adoption?

My memoir. How I found my bio family.

My memoir about how I found my bio family.

How to Get Published

If you were an actor
A star on TV
Or movies or films
Or videos you see.

Your words would be quoted
Your photos displayed
Your scent set in perfume
They’d publish your play.

They’d market your book
Your poems and your thoughts
If your name was famous
Your work would be bought.

Just say you’re a Kardashian
Or Hilton already
Or Clinton or Streisand
Or even a Getty.

Your words would get noticed
You’d sure get a bump.
If you were a Seinfeld,
A Bloomberg or Trump.

Or Rowling or Baldwin,
Obama or Carter
A Kennedy, a Kotb
Or famous globe trotter.

It’s not all about
The writing you do
It’s just who you are
The name you’re born to.

Still, never give up
Write every day
When you become famous
They’ll hear what you say.

One More Try for Love

Courage is fleeting
I don’t know why
I’m stuck in the corner
Afraid to try.

Tears are a waste
As night passes slowly
I’ll go out tomorrow
Forget feeling lonely.

Men come and go
Dates seldom work
I’ll wait for right one
Instead of a jerk.

Forget the diet
Bring me the bread
And chocolate and wine till I’m
Light in the head.

Keep my chin up
There’ll come a time
When singing and dancing
And fun will be mine.

Love don’t come easy
That is no lie
Yes, I have the courage
To give it one more try.

Who will win Super Bowl?

Ravens and niners
Who’s gonna win?
Tacklin’ ‘n kickin’
Bashing heads in.

Throwing the ball
Direct to a hole
In defensive lineup
To score a goal.

Pepsi or Coke
Audi or Ford
I choose the Bud ads
In between, I’m bored.

Some like their hot wings
Chips and some beer
I’ll take my ice cream
Thank you dear…

Score’s getting close now
Too close to call
Watching the scoreboard
Who’s got the ball?

Down into history
Who will win?
Tension is mounting
I’m nervous, and all in!

No no he dropped it
Fumbled the ball
Big interception
Ref makes the call.

It’s the last quarter
Which team will win
They’ve got my attention
????

You fill the rest in….

Who were you rooting for?

How are You Doing?

How are you doing?
Say I’m just fine
That’s what we tell them
All the time.

That is the answer
They want to hear
Not the state of your diet
Or the pain in your rear.

Don’t tell of food plans
Or losing five pounds
Or fights with the boyfriend
Or errands around town.

Forget the new hairdo
Or trips to the doc
Tell them you’re all right
Leave out the schlock.

Everyone’s got issues
Some have the flu
If you sneeze hope for tissues
And a heartfelt Bless You.

Jon Stewart vs Twitter

Twitter is the
Best for me
I get my news
One two three.

I don’t have to wait
For evenings at seven
Or six or ten
Or, God forbid, eleven.

I pick up my iPhone
It’s simple you see
No straining with newsprint
No waste, no fees.

No cost whatsoever
To get my news fast
Why wait for a reporter
To send out a blast.

I want to know now.
No patience have I
To read lengthy stories
To strain my old eyes.

I pick up my phone
I click on my app
Getting my headlines
Is really a snap.

I get quite enough
Of news that I need
I don’t have to wade through
Dribble you see.

I don’t want opinion
Or spin on a story
Give me the facts
Not allegory.

I’ll take my news
Dumbed down with ease
I just want your tweet
140 words please.

After the day’s done
I’m caught up on news
I’ll search my recordings
Jon Stewart I’ll choose.

To give me the lowdown
On politics and prose
His wit and his wisdom
His genius, who knows?

He’s right on the mark
He cuts through the chase
Ok, I’ll admit it
He has a cute face.

He wrinkles and scrunches
His cute little nose
But wisdom comes through
Clear down to his toes.

Twitter by day
Is as good as it gets
For full coverage the Daily Show
Is truly the best.

My Three Minute Meditation

My three minute meditation

I’m sitting
I’m waiting
For my stress to flee
Leaving my body
Like leaves from a tree.

Just three little minutes
That’s all that it takes
For stress to take flight
And leave me…
I’ll wait.

The three little minutes
He said it will work
To lower my blood pressure
I feel like a jerk.

Just three little minutes
Are driving me crazy
I could have washed dishes
Instead I feel lazy.

Just three little minutes
That’s way way too long
When one bar of chocolate
Would make me so strong.

Just three little minutes
Thank God they are done
Forget about stress relief methods
I’m going out for some fun!

A Son’s Tribute – Peanut Man

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Flying high
Up and away
In his spaceship
Don’t ask me why.

Never forgetting
Where he came from
He stares out the window
He watches the sun.

He looks for the moon
He dances on stars
He sings with his eyes closed
He travels so far.

To Saturn, to Mercury
To planets unnamed
He flies through the universe
It’s all a big game.

He settles back down
All snug in his bed
Dreams of his loved ones
Filling his head.

This tribute would do
And so would a letter
But one thing’s for sure
A tattoo lasts forever.