Back To Marilyn

Suddenly as if out of no where, Marilyn appeared and Amy had an instant grandmother. About 10 years ago Marilyn succeeded in her search for her daughter she was forced to put up for adoption at the infant’s birth. That would be Amy's mother Cynthia. The reunion (or union) took place not far from here. Marilyn brought en tow her siblings Jan and Joyce who immediately became Aunt Jan and Aunt Joyce. Joining the entourage were Jennifer and Natalie, daughters of the aunts. Cynthia ever thoughtfully called yours truly to deliver her daughter Amy (then about 8) in order to show her off. Can't say that I blame her. Amy was a jewel back then and the ladies found her to be an utmost delight. Marilyn was overjoyed and so was Amy. After all, Amy really never had a mom figure with the exception of her aunt Chris, my sister in law who could only fill the void as well as anyone could much less aunts and cousins. And of course Amy lived with her dad. I leave that up to interpretation.

Biological mothers across the western hemisphere experience buyer's/seller's remorse (or adoptor's remorse?) after the fact. One might put labels on such women. One might consider the conscience of such a choice whatever the circumstances. Certainly thoughts pass to and fro with regard to a better home for the infant or a better life. Or maybe there is an insurmountable realm of guilt no one else could possibly fathom. Financial reasons could come into play or personal problems or criminal and legal issues. Or maybe it's because of plain old fear. Dodge the question. Leave the answer. Forget the reason. Buy some time and clean up your act. Bedevil your own soul with thoughts that transform into destruction (or destructive behavior or worse). Do you wonder of how it might have been? Do you fantasize any number of scenarios? Judge and ye shall be judged. Can you do the unthinkable? The impossible? What should I do? What have I done? These calamitous thoughts travel through the mind. I can’t imagine. Can you?

There are hundreds, possibly thousands of non judgmental organizations across the country facilitating a mother's quest to find their already adopted child. Some of these women have waited until the child had turned 18 or of legal age before records could be unsealed or discovered. Thus the hunt begins and so it shall. Endless letters (now e-mails) as well, phone calls, paperwork and prayers. Allow me to plagiarize a bit from a forum I found with great ease through Google:

"Parents who have given up their children for adoption are welcome on our adoption registry. If you are a birth mother, trying to find adopted children you gave up, we are here to help. We understand that circumstances in a person's life can be difficult, and that as a child's natural mother you may have known the best choice for your child was an adoption. Often a father was not given an opportunity to be involved in the adoption decision, so an adoption registry can be your only option to find adopted children. At iwasadopted.com we help adopted children with finding biological parents and we help biological parents find adopted children. Everyone is welcome!"

But there's more! And behold wishes can still come true. Be careful what you wish for. In the end it could be something a person may have as fuel for more guilt and further self loathing. You may not get my point, but I do for what it’s worth.

Cynthia was in fact Marilyn's long lost daughter. Or at least the daughter she gave birth to. It was just a matter of time before the relationship found its unsuitable closure. If not in one way, in another less caustic and not so surreal, but a sad way nonetheless. At least it was sad for Marilyn's new granddaughter.

Amy's grandmother would come to Houston to visit and see Amy several times and go to her soccer games. Marilyn was having the time of her life. Amy would go to Kansas City and stay with Marilyn and her husband Larry during any given summer. Or she would go stay with them at Thanksgiving in Shreveport where her aunts lived. Amy loved her grandmother and Marilyn adored Amy. My oldest daughter graduated from college in Kansas City one year. As it happened, Larry and Marilyn lived near Kansas City. We all celebrated including Marilyn, Larry and all of us. It seemed for a brief moment as if our family's dysfunctions were alleviated and we were a family in full force with pride and unity.

I couldn't give up either of my daughters and apparently neither could Marilyn. Out of all of those thousands of mothers still looking, hoping and searching, some will find their child and some won't.

Back to Marilyn. Maybe Marilyn wanted to finish school uninterrupted. Perhaps she didn’t have a family as forgiving that would allow a pregnancy outside of a marriage. Maybe she didn't have the acceptance of the father (not Larry. He came later). Or maybe she was young. I'd like to think she was merely human. But she redeemed herself a thousand fold and her endeavor was true to herself. She may not have found the daughter she lost although they laid eyes on each other. But her redemption and strife brought her a granddaughter. As she once put it, “we found Amy”.

I never asked Marilyn what happened or why. I couldn’t just trespass on that softer ground unless invited and I wasn’t. I’m just thankful that Marilyn arrived at some point in our future.

A few years ago Marilyn was diagnosed with cancer. Larry and family members put Marilyn to rest at the age of 60 on Friday August 9th. Amy made the trip at random notice to the funeral and was in attendance amongst her family.

I admire Marilyn not only for what she accomplished, but more so for what she gave. Love.

Vince Gutierrez * August 2008