A Monumental Moment
Today is a memorable moment in my life. I was adopted as a married adult a decade ago. Yes, a strange concept I know. I have learned in the past ten years, there is not much need for a birth certificate to an adult. After my adoption all those years ago, I updated my records with the social security office and yet never ordered my new record of birth. My husband was serving in the marines, we were in California and life was busy. I always assumed my paperwork had been properly filed, and it was as simple as ordering the replacement one day.
It has taken to this year for a need of my birth’s record. In my request I was denied an updated certificate. I was informed the paperwork was never filed with the vital statistics office and according to the state of Kentucky, I was never adopted. My Daddy has since passed away, our lawyer has retired and with the closure of his practice all records are unobtainable. I was adopted in a city other than my current residence, and I have learned that even in the case of an adopted adult, all adoption records are sealed and must be petitioned by a court for their release. This all came together in a massive unraveling nightmare of a mess.
I have spent countless hours on the phone, faxing paperwork, obtaining notary’s, and playing a back and forth approval/denial game that has been exhausting.
Today, I was approved and granted my new birth certificate. I no longer am linked to a paper trail that binds me to my biological parents. Two people who caused me a great deal of heartache, pain, and hardship. It is a liberating feeling to know legally I belong to the greatest man I will ever know. Today, I have been reborn in paper-form. The daughter of a 60-year-old man, a single father in his golden years who loved a child he did not have to.
I published an autobiography of my childhood last year. A release of suppressed emotion I did not know I was holding onto. It gifted me closure, I was unaware that I sought. Today, I closed that door completely. Not hiding skeletons behind its wood, but rather the final sale of a shack that was supposed to be a home I’ve grown an overwhelming distaste for. I argued with my Daddy when he expressed his desire to adopt me ten years ago. In my mind, I had always been his. No court or person could possibly bring more validity to this knowledge. He insisted and we proceeded. He knew what I could not yet see. One day I would need to be cleansed of the toxicity of my blood ties. Today, acknowledged by the government, my paper trail does not show a record of a child born to monsters.
I am the daughter of a kind man born in a small southern town in Tennessee. An airline pilot who landed a commercial plane of passengers with dual engine failure. A World War II Veteran who was shot down in France and almost lost his leg. A patient and powerful soul. A father who loved a child by choice, not obligation, and changed her life forever. Though I do not flow his blood in my veins, I carry his spirit with me, his wisdom in my memories, and his love in my heart. Who I am is who he molded me to be.
Today, I have two sisters whom I will forever share a name with. Two women who welcomed me into their lives and hearts, who shared the greatest Daddy anyone could ever be blessed to have. One my partner in crime, the other my rock of advice and stability, both my family.
Today, I share my joyous moment with you my friends. Cheers 🥂
You once told me you wanted the world to know that I am yours. I may never speak to the world, but to my last breath, I will tell as many as hear me with pride that I am yours. All of my yesterdays, today, and forever. I tried to accomplish obtaining my record of birth for your birthday Saturday, though I missed the mark. Happy belated 94th birthday Daddy. I miss you still today as the day you left me to face this world without your presence. I love you so much.