Here’s another story by a talented writer and a friend of mine, Mike Henneke. Thank you, Mike. Both for your honesty and for sharing.
The one about my birth mother
by Mike Henneke
It’s days like this when I think about her. For just a brief instant, I try to imagine what my birth mother looks like, if she’s even alive.
Does she still think about me? Has age been kind to her or not? Was she able to have a family of her own?
I owe it to my wife for never letting me forget my birth mother. Ever so briefly, Barb pays tribute to her each birthday, then we move on.
Even tonight before the candles have cooled, Barb brings her up again.
If your birth mother is thinking about you tonight, she says at the kitchen table, I hope she’s comforted by the fact that she made the right decision.
Without that decision, I couldn’t imagine where I would be today. That selfless act and the efforts to adopt me has opened up a world to me that I might not have been able to enjoy.
I don’t know much about my birth mom except that she was 24 and single when she gave birth to me in 1966. I’ve never seen any pictures of her, of course, so I can only imagine what she looks like.
After a rocky start in this world, I moved to a foster home where I stayed for 14 months. Through a series of events, my mom came to the foster home where she saw me for the first time.
She couldn’t resist my charm, my sophistication, my good looks. Plus I could drink milk like a sailor.
She wanted to adopt me, but state officials said no. Her husband at the time was in a combat zone and I couldn’t be adopted. I was persona non grata and I hadn’t even entered preschool.
As mom tells the story, if she couldn’t have me, she didn’t want any kid to adopt.
State officials said they would think about it.
Her efforts paid off and after what would become a landmark adoption case at the time, I became a Henneke.
Forty-five years later, I have no regrets, no desire to seek her out and see what could have been.
But at least once a year, I’ll pause and think about her for just a little. And then I will move forward down the path she helped open up to me with her selfless act.
I think she would want it that way.
You can find more stories by Mike on his blog by clicking here.