Adopted?! How did I find out?!

All my beautiful places include also the unseen, the heart!

* Most of you know this about me, some of you don't know I actually know and think you are keeping a great secret and the rest probably don't even care. Some wonder how did it happen? How come did I find out? Why then? Who told me "the truth"? 

I am not ashamed to share it with the world because I truly feel blessed and I would love to help people understand and realize that adopting a child should come from the heart, its love in its purest form and truly there is nothing wrong. If its your case, give yourself the chance to open up to the possibility of giving somebody that was not wanted/liked/needed by their own blood a chance to have a decent home with you. It could be "your chance" to make the difference to change somebody's life and transform it into what life should be about, selfless love and caring.

Look at me, I am where I am because unselfish people decided to give me the opportunity to grow up in their care and love, not a day goes by that I am not grateful for what I was given, cos thanks to that I am who I am.

Over 10 years ago I found out that I was adopted, I have no shame but gratitude towards my adoptive parents, my only parents for me. I am not sure if I will go into detail with this post so lets wait and see how words flow through me and what my heart allows me to share.

Many people feel weird when the word "adoption" comes to mind or is brought up as an option, specially if the couple has been trying for too many years to have a child. To my understanding my parents tried to have a child for way too long, they took every single test available to them,  both of them and spent a load of money! My dad described it as painful experience and a bit shameful for him, at that time and at his age to be tested and basically have his bits and bobs exposed to the world. We are talking about the late 1960's so this topic was tabu, definitely off the table as conversation with any other than the party involved. But before I get into that I have to rewind and start at the beginning.

It was a Sunday morning in April, I was 25 years old and I remember I had just woken up when the phone rang...

-the following conversation happened in Spanish-

Me: hello?

Woman: is this Lucero? (nickname my family gave me which I really hate, as it is not my name)

Me: yes, who is this?

Woman: that its not important, what am about to tell you is.... did you know that you are adopted?

--- blank! that's how I felt, time passed like in the movies, slow motion.... I remember thinking, who could it be telling me this over the phone?,  and why? most important, what on earth should I answer so whatever macabre plan of hers seemed fluffed?! after a few seconds of - very fast thinking-

Me: Yes, why do you care?  and I hung up!

Stupid woman I thought... she has no idea we have caller ID!!!!!!! back then not many people had it but I had just come back from living in Vancouver and I had it there, it was handy and I was hooked on it so I had my dad add it into our phone service! caller ID payed off that day!

I am not going to say who she was although people like her should be exposed to the world so they pay for all their karma before they move on to the other side or wherever those people go.

Anyway, I was alone at home, my dad used to get up every Sunday for a walk, starting with early Sunday mass, then he would go down to the shopping centre, have breakfast and call in with me to see if was up and wanted to join him for lunch or whatever plan or invite he had. My dad always had an invite to somewhere. That day the routine changed, after that call I decided that it would be wise to call my dad and maybe perhaps have a talk about what just happened.

So, I called him (he always had his mobile on vibrate whilst in church), I remember it was a nokia, the dark grey with the white numbers that lit green. My dad noticed that the call was from his house, so he stepped out of the church to call me back as me calling him at that time knowing that he would be in the middle of mass would be an emergency call, it didn't feel like an emergency call to me really, I was so numb that I had actually forgotten that he was still in mass. 

The call went on like this...

Me: hello?

dad: is everything ok?

me: uhmm I don't know

dad: why? what's wrong?

me: I just got a call from (name of the woman) from her house phone number and she told me ...... well, that i was adopted.

dad: .................................................

me: dad?

dad: ................................................ 

-I could only hear him breathing

me: you ok dad? cos I am ok! can you come home and can we talk about this please?

dad: give me 5 min I will call you back!

After waiting 15 minutes well, my dad's call never came back! the phone did ring but it was my aunt (my dad's sister)

me: hello?

aunt: have a shower, get dressed we will pick you up in 20 mins

me: oh ok... 

I was ordered to do something and nobody bother to tell me anything,  my only thoughts were... what the fuck is going on? and why are people freaking out so much if I am not?

So, I did as I was told, jumped in the shower, got dressed, didn't even had a chance to eat something got picked up and basically I was paraded from house to house. Nobody was saying a thing and the few times I dared to ask what the hell is going on? I was given the.... you will have time to speak to your dad later but right now he is sorting things out. Sorting things out????? what sort of things is he sorting? that his only child wants to see him, needs to talk and he just disappeared  from the face of the earth! He was not picking up his mobile and he did not call at all during the entire day. Then I felt abandoned to be honest, I recall just feeling empty and alone.

We ended up eating roasted chicken at my cousins house which was the last visit, she had just had her first baby and my aunt use to take her food and go check on her and the baby and that day it was not different. I do not recall exactly what else went on that day whilst at my cousin's house, I just remember feeling numb from head to toe, no feeling whatsoever. For you to have an idea of how long I was left in limbo for, my aunt picked me up at around 11am and by 7pm, I finally I heard words that made sense in my head, the words were coming from my aunts mouth... "lets go, lets take you home"  a sense of relief embraced me, I got up, said goodbyes and left.

It took us a good half hour to get home, my cousin lived far and Sunday was always good for traffic. Finally when we arrived, everything was dark but the chandelier from the stairs and my dad's room. It seemed colder than usual, sad and lifeless. My aunt once again ordered me and her youngest son to go to my room and watch tv for a while, next thing a remember she was closing the doors to my dad's bedroom, I could not see him again.... I knew he was there but I could not see him.

There I was, once again left in limbo with no answers, no comforting words, no nothing...!  So my cousin and I went to my room and I said fuck that...! I went into my bathroom and lit a camel, I never unless absolutely necessary lit a smoke in my house because my dad "did not know" that I smoked and when I did was because I knew my dad was not home, or very much asleep and every single time my head would be sticking out of my bathroom window like a dog.

That day I just didn't care anymore, not even if he actually walked in on me smoking. Seriously, what could he say? He was already "in trouble" as it were for hiding and not speaking to me. Which I resented yet at the same time understood more than he could ever know. I should actually mention that my relationship with my dad was quite good, we were friends, to a certain degree, Ok, he pretended very well that he didn't know I smoked, I pretended as well that he didn't know I did, by not smoking at home and trying to cover my tracks all the time. And yes emphasis on "all the effing time"!

He was always very straight forward towards my up bringing, for him the most important thing was religion, then education, then the rest. I was the naughty one, the "black sheep" not doing what I was told. Not to use it as an excuse to my actions but I hated to be forced to do something I did not like it at all, hence I was a "rebel".  I hated going to church, the only time that I ever liked and enjoyed going to mass was when I fell "in love" with a bloke that attended the 1300 o'clock mass. Aside from that I just did not get it at all, sat there, stood up, woke my dad up every single time the sermon was over cos he would always fall asleep. So at 16 years of age, I said to my dad, I am sorry, I can't do this anymore, you have done nothing wrong but I do not like attending to church, I respect your believes but mine are very different and I just can't keep doing it. His reaction was what I expected, he took off, went to church and for a walk, it was a cold winter's day, I remember precisely as we were in Vancouver. He came back to the flat after a few hours of what I guess trying to find a priest that spoke Spanish and failed miserably to do so.

When he did, I told him once again, you did not fail, you did not do something wrong, it is me and my own mind and heart that are asking you to respect me as a non believer of your religion yet I respect you completely, you could try and do the same for me.

It was a huge deal for me to "come out of the closet" as a non religious more spiritual person and even bigger for my dad as he during his early adulthood was in school to become a priest, he met my mom in church and his favourite sister was a nun, you can pretty much get the idea of my doing right?

to be continued..........

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