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I was born in 1954.Back in the Fifties, if you were put up for adoption then, you didn't go straight from the hospital with your new parents. Instead, you were placed in a foster home for a few months. That is where I was until I was five months old. At this age, I was adopted by my aunt and uncle, Buster & Mollie Mushrush. My birth mother was only 15 years old when I was born and could not raise me. My real mother's name is Helen and she was a niece to my "Mom" Mollie. They were allowed to adopt me and I still remained within the same family.
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Mom had 2 miscarriages and was no longer able to have children, so they were thrilled to have the chance to adopt me. I had always known I was adopted because they chose to be honest with me from the beginning.In fact, my parents told me I used to go around telling everybody that I was"Mommy and Daddy's little adopted girl. I have always kept in touch with my biological mother, Helen. she eventually married a terrific man named Jack and had five other children. When they would all come into town to visit their grandmother, I would also go over and spend time with them, for a week or so. My birth Mom, Helen always knew that I would be loved and well taken care of. It also eased her mind to know that she could see me and talk to me anytime as well.
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My adopted Mom & Dad were wonderful Christians and raised me in a Christian atmosphere, always taking me to church and saw to it that I always had every thing I needed, but most importantly...love.
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My Dad died when I was 19 yrs. old. Being a "daddy's" girl, I was devastated...My Mom developed cancer in 1990 and found out it was terminal. My family and I moved into her home and left ours in order for me to take care of her full time. Although this was the most horrible thing I had ever endured, it gave us time to talk about things that were most important. I asked and answered questions that I had of her and she had of me. I gained a world of knowledge by being placed in this situation and was given the opportunity to share and bond even closer to her than before. Let me also mention that my husband was so wonderful and supportive of me during this whole ordeal. This can really wear on your nerves under normal circumstances, but to have to uproot your family and totally change your way of living can sometimes destroy even the best of marriages. I would not have made it without the love and continuous support from Darryl, my husband.
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Her cancer began in her colon and then spread to her liver. She struggled with this horrible disease for 18 months. she passed away on September 30, 1992. Helen and Jack came in for the funeral, which meant alot to me. She told me she never wanted to interfere between me and my "Mom's" relationship and now that she had passed away, she very much wanted to be a part of my life and had never, ever stopped loving me...
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I had never told my children that Mollie wasn't their true grandmother, and in the biological sense, she wasn't. But in every way that mattered, she was. I told them about my story and that their "real" grandmother lived in North Carolina. We all went to Helen's home and was warmly welcomed and everyone felt at ease.
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I had three half sisters and two half brothers, too. One of my sister's died on Christmas Day in 1998. It was so odd planning to go to a funeral of my sister's, since basically I was raised as an only child, except when I would go to my grandmother's house to play with my siblings. My husband was in the bed down in his back and was not even able to walk, let alone make a trip to North Carolina to attend the funeral. He was so upset that he could not make the trip with me. He suggested I call Debbie,my best friend, to see if she could go with me, as he didn't want me to travel that far alone. Debbie agreed to acompany me to North Carolina to the funeral. I know she felt torn between leaving her husband and children to go out of state to be with me, but that is the kind of person she is. But, you already know that from reading her pages here~S~. She was a tremendous support to me during this time as well as when Mom was sick.
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I wanted to share this beautiful story in order to relate to other parents/children of adoption. Also, would love to share with anyone that has gone through a terminal illness as the role of caretaker, especially if it was a parent that you tended to. Debbie has included my e-mail address below. Please feel free to contact me to talk, share, or need me to listen. I'll be happy to answer all e-mails that I receive.Thank You.
Kathy Stilwell
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