Meeting my birth mother

My natural mother passed away when I was 60 years old. I went along to her funeral and was included as a sister in everything by all members of the family. I had been adopted at birth and had found my mother at 27 years old through an agency that kept records to help find adopted children.

I had been born at a very small 10-bed hospital and given the name of Lindal Lee and although I found my adoption papers at 20 years old, my father had quickly hidden them again. At 27 I registered with an agency and they indicated that they had her registered looking for me for the last six years. My natural mother was contacted and we arranged to have a meeting at the local shopping centre.

Turning up with a king size bunch of flowers, she stood at the door to the cafe anxiously waiting to see me. We spent a lovely hour discussing the past and then parted with promises of meeting again. It was not till the next meeting that my natural full brother turned up. Then I found out I had two full sisters and a half sister who were all younger than me. A little later I found I had four half brothers that were older than me, two on my father’s side and two on my mother’s side. Some time later another brother appeared who had been adopted.

Finally there were two more younger half brothers and sisters on my father’s side that I had never met. First my brother would not let go of my hand and seemed thrilled to have a new sister. He wanted to know me and seemed to have a lot in common in his interests. I met two of my sisters but found one did not want to know me as she thought I would be competing for her mother. I spent some time meeting and getting to know my older brothers who visited me at the beach. Although it was lovely to have so much family, these were not the people I had grown up with. They were not the people who had cared for me the past 27 years and who I had learned to love.

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They were all strangers and although I was included in some Christmas events and family occasions I never really did become more than a casual acquaintance with them. When my natural mother started sending flowers and cards to my home it became difficult as my real mother was asking questions as to whom the flowers were from. I did not see my natural mother the last 17 years of her life. Over the next 16 years I had some contact with different members of the family. I really enjoyed this contact with them and found they became friends who I saw about once a year. My mother moved into a nursing home and became quite ill and eventually passed away.

So when I finally went to her burial I was amazed to be included as a sister. A lovely service was held in the rain at the cemetery, and after all, the brothers and sisters lined up to put a rose on the coffin. As I leant over and put my rose down, it was as if my natural mother sat up and grabbed my wrist and would not let me go. Shivers ran down my back and I was quite shaken. I backed off and lined up with the others, feeling as white as a ghost. Was this her final reaching out or was it my imagination?

Tell us today, does this story sound similar to your own or a friend’s? What happened?