It's Skeleton Season
Sometimes it only takes a few words to make you realize you really don't know a person.
I remember every detail of the moment that changed everything. We stood in the living room, surrounded by orange and brown floral furniture and wood paneling. The console TV loomed silently over the room, its black screen still. There was no sense in filling the home with any sort of life as we were just running quickly into the trailer to grab a few of my things before returning to my uncle's house. I stayed there for several months while my mother was hospitalized (a story - or ten - for another time) and my father was deployed for the first Gulf War. Fourteen-year old me decided to listen to the messages on the answering machine.
Yes. Answering machine. It's hard to believe, but there was a time before electronic voicemail when calls were sometimes handled by contraptions similar to tape recorders. (And don't ask me what a "tape recorder" is because, really? Just get off of my lawn.) As I hit play, my uncle stood patiently waiting for message after message to finish. Bill collectors and salesmen and a few out-of-the-know people had left random words that meant nothing to me.
Then came The Message.
"Hi. This is Carol of Lutheran Social Services. I'm trying to reach Kathryn as I have information about the son she surrendered in Minot, North Dakota in 1970. He would really like to speak with you, but I need your permission to pass on this phone number. Please return my call . . . "
As the message ended, silence fell heavy. I was naive at the age of 14, but I knew what she was referencing. I mean, I didn't know, but I understood the words.
I looked at my uncle. His face told the story of someone who had just heard words that were forcing him to realize a huge portion of his childhood was a lie. He was the youngest of the siblings and should have known. Yet, somehow, he didn't.
He had no idea that his older sister had been pregnant, given birth, and relinquished custody of a baby boy while living with their parents.
I had no idea that my mother had given birth to a child before she gave birth to me.
Details were filled in later, but not until after my mother passed away sixteen years ago this week. She never returned that call, instead choosing to take her secret to the grave with her. Or so she thought. We knew. We never spoke a word about it, but we knew.
Her entire life had been a lie.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Reader Comments (21)
Warning on a post like this would be cool.
Beautiful and real and big and wonderful and... I just love your ... whole person.
There is a point of no return for some people. Whether it be fear based, shame, or unequivocal denial, a deep sadness eclipsed your life because of the choices your mother made. I hope you have forgiven her. Enjoy the day and tu for blogging.
Learning that our parents are flawed human beings is always a hard lesson. But secrets in a family are so hard in so many ways.
This...is a very well written post dealing with a subject that is still taboo to many.
I actually recently read a VERY good book on the subject (The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade) and it was a total eye opener about what the culture was like.
(And uh...would it be a bad time to admit that we still have (somewhere around here) our old tape based answering machine?)
I hope I get to meet you sometime. I may be up your way early November...if not then, another time. (I love so many PGH people, and I'm so not psyched about DC right now, that I'd move there...but I'd be a perennial outcast because I could never root for any of the home teams. And you know what an issue that is. ;))
HOW was that woman not trained to leave that kind of message? Oh my lord. And I really want to hear the rest. The things we must endure and come to understand...
Wow.
I've learned in recent weeks that no matter how well you think you know someone, there's always a chance that they're keeping a crazy secret. And the moment you learn about that secret, your whole view of them-and the world- will change. And to be honest, it kinda blows.
Is there more to this story? Did you ever find out details? I know you're not a hugger but... hug ;)
Speaking from experience, it's only silghtly better to hear it from your own mother. The fact that she told me when I was a grown adult made me realize that everyone has hidden personal skeletons, and we just don't ever know a person deep down inside. I have thought about it through the years, though, and wondered exactly HOW one talks about it to their "keeper" kids. It's no wonder these things weren't talked about. The shame, and awkwardness, and fear of judgement...
@Jen - I couldn't agree with you more on the secret thing. A couple years ago I found out about a family secret. The secret explained A LOT of things about my childhood and the dynamics of my family. Oddly, it didn't change my view of the person who the secret was about, just the person who told the secret (and mostly because of their reasons for telling the secret).
@burghbaby - My family has no clue that I know of this particular secret. Sometimes it's hard to not tell them that I know, but it is what it is. And in and of itself, the secret isn't even a big deal, it's just a secret. I can't imagine being in your situation. Oh, and I don't care if you don't like them, but ((hugs)) to you anyway.
We have this "secret" in our family too. I would suggest not reading the book Kassandra recommended unless you have a very thick skin; it is very, very painful to read. I remember being so angry with my grandparents after I read it, and it didn't do me any good seeing as they were long gone.
No family is without secrets or flaws. What makes us family is that we forgive and love them anyway.
i can't even imagine how that must have felt. but this still doesn't sound right: "Her entire life had been a lie."
burghbaby - you brought me out of lurking. You are the amazing mom you are cause of the things that shaped your life. You've shared a very personal secret that shaped who you became. It's really hard to accept that our parents aren't the people that we thought they were/ought to be, but it makes us stronger and better parents for our children. We might make mistakes as parents, but usually not the same ones that our own parents made! Cyber-hug!
I'm curious to know if you've found him but I'm guessing that you have not? I don't know But I want to.
I'm sorry for the secret she kept, mostly because it hurt you.
xo
Bless your heart. Your world was already turned upside down and then to hear that news on top of it. You have been through some very hard times haven't you?
It is amazig to me how strong you are and what and awesome mom you are.
I think - based on this post in particular - that you have learned much from her mistakes (meaning, the secrets, not the son...). You live a fairly transparent life and that leaves little room for secrets. Although, how did I not know you didn't like hugs?!?! ;)
YES. I probably could've used a little warning before I started bawling at work.
I don't know what to say, except...I really admire you for this. Secrets are so hard on everyone.
I'm sorry you're going through what must be a very painful and complicated week. (This is where I would offer a hug, but that would be akin to stabbing you in the heart with hundreds of exclamations points, yes?)
@TwinmamaTeb - while its a good book I agree it is a difficult read (even for someone not directly touched by the topic) and I should have been slightly more specific last night (I blame the hour at which I wrote my comment and the fact I was half awake) than I was.
As a woman who has lived her entire life after the passage of Roe v. Wade (and as someone who could have been in that exact situation) it was a interesting (if a bit difficult) of a read. Opened my eyes to the way things COULD have been not that long ago had I found myself in the situation I was (and am currently) in.
Wow. Thanks for such a great post. I only learned in the last year that a grandma I never met committed suicide in a very tragic way (is there a good way?!), but it would have been nice to know about the family history of depression before 2 serious bouts with post partum depression.
I will never understand why the most important people in our lives keep such important secrets from us. Thanks again for sharing.
This totally blew me away. You're so amazing and such a good writer.
I have a very similar story to tell. Only I got lucky, while you didn't get to have your mother tell you the truth. I did. Then I got told, you can't tell anyone, or do anything about it.
"Here is the big secret, something you envied others for your entire life and you can't do anything about or tell anyone, and I don't want to talk about it so don't bring it up again." said my mother.
I was 19, and I wasn't having any of it. So, I found him. 11 years after I found him, we met. I am 31 now and sometimes I think it was 31 years too late. But, I am learning that sometimes late really is better than never, because for my mother it was at 36 year wait to met him, and now we can all talk, finally.
The one thing I learned is not blame to her. It was the late 70's and it was the military. She did what was best. I just wish she didn't have to hide it all these years later.....
Whoa, heavy. Love to you lady. lots of love.