As You Wish

One of my earliest memories would have to be from about 22 years ago. I have a terrible memory, so the fact that I remember this is quite strange. I was 2 years old and I can remember seeing the back of my biological father as he walked out the door. I sat with my mom on the coffee table as she cried and I know that was a turning point in both of our lives (a turn for the better). I love my mother dearly and I wouldn’t trade her for anything. Ok well maybe I would trade her for a purse or a new pair of shoes…just kidding. I know that wasn’t even funny I apologize.

Moving forward…

That being said I hated seeing my mom upset, but I hated seeing her date even more. She was mine and no one else’s. I was a very selfish little girl and I wanted her to myself. Then one day when I was about 3 she brought him home. Who was this stranger? Why was he kanoodling my mom? I wasn’t having it. Whenever they sat together on the couch I would sit between them. Remember? She was mine.

I don’t remember this, but I’m told that enough was enough. I had to be stopped. They had heard a rumor that if you give a child a little bit of wine it will make them sleepy. That could be harmless right? I mean just a little won’t hurt. Right? They gave me a couple sips of wine and waited to see if I would drift off to sleep like they were hoping would happen. They were wrong! I was wired beyond belief, worse than before. Not to be cliché, but I was bouncing off the walls. As I write this I have an evil little grin on my face just in case you were wondering. That’s what they get for trying to get some alone time.

The more time they spent together I started getting used to him being around. Don’t get me wrong I still wanted my mom to myself, but that wasn’t happening. When I was 5 they decided to get married. That story has already been told here.

Around 1990 the company they were both working for decided to close its doors, so we moved to Winnemucca. That winter was horribly cold. We were renting a two story house at the time and my bedroom was downstairs. It was right next to the basement and I hated sleeping there by myself. For a few months my step-sister, Amy, came to live with us and while she was there I slept in my room with her. I’m sure she thought I was a loser little kid because she was in high school and I was in first grade, but I thought her and her twin, Amber, were the coolest.

After spending some time around my step-sisters and step-dad I started thinking. I know scary right? I began to realize that my last name wasn’t the same as my mom’s and I didn’t have anyone to call “dad.” This was quite perplexing for me. This had to change. I told my mom I wanted my last name to be the same as hers. She explained to me that the only way for that to happen would be for me to ask my step-dad to adopt me. So…I asked. He gratefully accepted and when I was 8 years old we went to court and my last name became the same as theirs and I had someone to call “dad.”

I’m going to digress for a moment to talk about my grandpa (my mom’s dad). He was AWESOME. I won’t go into too much detail here about my undying affection for him, but I do want to say that when I found out he was dying from cancer my heart was broken. I was too young at the time to fully understand all the details, but I did know that this monster was taking my Poppa from me and I didn’t appreciate it. The day before the adoption he was taken from us. My mom says that he wanted to make sure I was going to be ok before he let go. He knew he was leaving me in good hands with my dad. *clearing throat and wiping tears*

It was difficult to explain to my friends at school how I was able to change my name. They thought that if you were adopted that must mean you came from some orphanage and that your parents weren’t your “real” parents. I spent countless hours minutes explaining myself to them. I think they understood, but I’ll never know.

It has been 16 years since the adoption and I couldn’t be happier with the decision we made. Bob has been the best dad a girl could ask for.

Thank you so much for the life you have helped to give me, for adopting me, for loving me (even though I was am the biggest brat ever), for teasing me, for being there for me, for carrying me from your bed to mine, and for loving my mom. I know I wasn’t always into the thought of you being around, but I can’t imagine for even just one second not having you in my life now. I love you very much and I hope you have a Happy Birthday!

*Side note: Don’t judge my parents for giving me alcohol at such a young age. It really was only a little and I think I turned out fine. I think…

I apologize for the rollercoaster of emotion this post may have caused, but I don’t apologize for the information. I know while writing this I laughed, I cried, I rubbed my hands together in an evil manner, and I loved whole-heartedly.