I’m of the thought that should one live into the ages of perhaps fifties, sixties or well beyond, there is likely an untold story in each of us. Maybe a story within us, maybe within our families.
I shared that thought one time and was asked, “It is better that the story be told or remain untold?”
This past April 2016 my ninety-two year old birth mother died in Pennsylvania. My wife and I went back to attend her services. I had been told a few years back by our lawyer that if I desired upon her death I could then have access to my adoption records that were on file at the Vigo County Courthouse in my hometown of Terre Haute, Indiana.
Shortly after her passing I produce the needed paper work to the court of records for those papers to be released to me. I was then told that in a few weeks I would be receiving copies of those papers. A few weeks later I walked from my mailbox into our house to sit down and read those files. After nearly seventy-five years I awaited a portion of the untold story.
It is said that within all of us there is a story. I believe that.
July 27, 2016