A Surprise Sister - from the little sister's eyes!

Sunday mornings are easy.  Lionel Richie even said so with his famous lyrics.  Sunday mornings in my world can mean an uplifting sermon at church, cheering on my son at the soccer field, or lounging around in my pajamas with a Cuban coffee and avocado toast.  Easy. 

This one particular Sunday morn … September 23, 2018 for timekeeping’s sake … started off just that way.  I had been out late the night before at a high school reunion.  Still a little bleary eyed, I sat down at the kitchen table with my family and we made gentle chatter, discussing plans to go to soak up the last few rays of southern summer sunshine at the pool.

I rarely have my phone on the table during a meal, but for some reason that time I was breaking my typical dining etiquette.  It lit up just as I was about to take my first bite of breakfast – Message Request from Kathleen Pierce.  Thinking I would be replying to a question about essential oils, or maybe even a reconnection with a classmate from the prior evening, I casually slid the phone over and accepted the request. 

There was a nervous excitement about her words.  There was an apologetic tone for any impending shock.  The note quickly got to the point : I think I may be your sister. 

Wait, what??  Avocado toast suddenly was not a priority.

I kept reading, my eyes growing bigger and my breath starting to quicken.  She began to explain by providing facts and details about her birth, and then adoption at 4 days of age.  She went on to share that she had traced her paternal lineage through AncestryDNA.com, which had then led her to a trail to her mother, thanks to another nonprofit organization.  I read the name of her mother but for some reason my brain would not make sense of it. 

Hmmm, I thought.  That’s weird, that’s MY mother’s name!  But my mother doesn’t have any other children.  #didnotcompute

Even when I read that Kathleen had been given her sister’s name by the organization – NATALIE GREENFIELD, and my Facebook link, I was still processing at the rate of a sleepy 2 year old.  I gathered my phone and all of my breakfast items, like a child hoarding her toys, and announced to my family that I needed to go outside.  They looked at my bizarre behavior and asked repeatedly if I was alright. 

Once I got outside and felt like I could breathe again, I read and re-read the message.  Okay.  It did make sense.  I knew my mother had been married before my father.  And I even knew her first husband’s name, which was the name Kathleen had given as her father’s name.  I knew nothing about a child, though.  My mind was reeling.  It was sinking in.  Could this be true?  Of course.  I touched the icon leading me to her FB page and profile pic.  Oh wow!  Yep.  If I had a sister, that’s what she would look like!  Ok, this was getting real.

When I replied to Kathleen, I felt guilty that a whole hour had elapsed since I had opened her message.  I knew she was probably anxiously anticipating a response.  I didn’t know what to say, so I sent a short note asking when she wanted to chat.  Immediately, the famous three dots appeared.  She wrote, “now if you are up for it.”  Alrighty then!  Let’s do this! 

I ran upstairs to the deepest, most hidden part of my room, closing all doors behind me along the way, as if I now somehow had a huge secret to shelter.  I put 2 of my favorite essential oils in my diffuser, and put my face over the bellowing vapors.  I desperately wanted to channel a calm and steady vibe.  I could only imagine that she had to be in pure freak out mode!  So I was determined to be the rational one (not my strong suit!).  The phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

You were expecting a more extravagant first greeting for sisters who never knew of each other’s existence? 

We chatted for an hour, trying to piece together timelines, and wading through the surreal fog.  As if this situation wasn’t mind blowing enough, we discovered an incredible criss-crossing of paths.  We were both born in California, 4 years apart.  She was raised primarily in West Africa, while I spent my childhood into my adulthood in Georgia.  After high school, Kathleen came to Georgia to attend college.  We actually ended up living in the same city, ON THE SAME STREET, missing one another by about a year.  #mindblown

I heard my sister’s voice catch when she asked about her….our mother.  “Where is she living now?” 

So – about that.  “She lives with me,” I replied.  Calm and steady vibe, calm and steady vibe.  I was overcome with the emotional realization that Kathleen had not only figured out who her mother was, but was actually talking to someone who was within the same walls.  This was going to be trickiest part, though.  Neither of us was sure how we should approach our mother with this.  Although I am her caretaker, my mother and I do not have the type of relationship where I could just go in and ask her questions about something like……..oh, a secret sister??  And besides that, Kathleen made the great point that our mother should tell me, not the other way around.

(My best friend, Estrella, asked if I thought my mother would be mad if she ever found out that I knew and didn’t tell her.  My reply was ……. “Ummm, well……she knew, and didn’t tell me!”  #thedefenserests)

After a couple of weeks of texting, bonding and brainstorming, my sister came up with the idea of writing our mother a letter.  She made me laugh when she sent me a message saying that she was at the card store, but unfortunately she could not seem to find an “I’m Your Daughter” card (c’mon Hallmark!!  Get with the times!).  We were both nervous when she mailed the aqua colored envelope on a Friday, and even more jittery when it arrived that Monday!  I placed the precious cargo in the spot where I leave my mother’s mail in the kitchen, took a picture of it, and shot a text to Kathleen.  When this spot is empty, she has it!

It took 2 more days for my mother to finally tell me a little about what was unfolding.  She did it in the strangest way possible, but she did it!  Now with that awkwardness aside, we could plan a visit!  Kathleen lives in Connecticut, but she was anxious to get back down to Georgia to meet us!

Her trip was scheduled for the last week of October.  Kathleen would come down for a few days, then drive to Athens, where her adoptive parents still live.  I marked the date October 30 with “Kathleen’s visit” on the giant calendar in my kitchen.  But this was actually a ruse.  My sister and I both agreed that we wanted to meet one another first, without our mother.  So the confidential top secret meeting was happening the night before on the 29^th.  I was so looking forward to this monumental occasion!  Our mother busied herself with details of where we would go out to eat, and obsessing over ordering a chocolate cake.  Apparently, chocolate cake is a thing when you find your daughter after 45 years.  Who knew?

Looking across the table at dinner, seeing a resemblance in another person and understanding the feeling of having a sibling…….well, it was priceless.  There was a comfort level between us as we chatted, and I had to resist the urge to tell people around us that we were sisters.  I even secretly hoped that the waiter would ask us. 

The next morning was the Main Event.  I was more nervous as I prepped breakfast for the 30^th than I had been to go out to dinner on the 29^th.  I had no idea how our mother would react or handle this very Oprah worthy moment.  But everything went well.  I’ll never forget the funniest comment.  Our mother was sitting at the head of the table, with each of her daughters on either side.  She looked back and forth at us, stoically, then declared, “You do not look like each other.  Because you <points at me> look like a Spanish.”  My father was Cuban, which explains my features, but it was a comical and blunt statement, which has always been true to my mother’s style.  However, I really think Kathleen and I do like alike!  We both have a bit of a Joanna Gaines thing going on, and I’ve decided that Joanna needs to play the role of one of us in the made for TV movie of our story.  😊

The rest of her 2 day “reunion” was fairly lighthearted and fun.  I did not hover over them, as I knew that time alone together was important.  If Kathleen learned anything, it’s that we like to eat around here!  We went to quite a few restaurants, walked around the mall at a seniorly pace with our mother, played with selfies on SnapChat, and of course – had chocolate cake!  Kathleen and I were able to sit and enjoy a glass of wine together one evening while we continued to delve in and get to know one another better. 

               

                                   

    

Are we alike, or are we different?  Yes and yes!  Just like one would expect, right?  However, examining the whole Nature vs Nurture theory was just fascinating. 

We are both articulate, intelligent women.  We are both mothers – she beat me by 1, since she has 4 children to my 3 (overachiever!).  We have a similar witty sense of humor, dry at times, clever and silly at others.  We both appreciate organization & structure, and can tend to overanalyze things.  We are both active, energetic, friendly ladies……who have both oddly enough been called “intimidating” more than once in life.  We apparently have the same taste in clothing, and accidentally dressed alike one day!  And we look alike, except that I “look like a Spanish”.  😊

I am an avid wine enthusiast, reds by choice.  Kathleen could take the vino or leave it.  I had to pause and decide if we are really related when I learned that one!   I am an artistic, creative person.  She doesn’t consider herself to be, but I think she may be mistaken there.  She is well traveled, especially due to her upbringing.  I am a homebody, probably due to mine.  She is tall.  I am pint sized.  She says tomato.  I say tomate.

An added perk to gaining a sister is that we also gained brothers-in-law, and nieces & nephews!  Kathleen was able to meet and hangout a bit with 2 of my 3 kids (Giselle and Kaden), and with my husband, Rick!  They were all enamored with her.  Even our boxer dog, Zoe, insisted on posing in a photo with Kathleen and our mother.  I absolutely cannot wait to be able to come up to Connecticut and meet the Pierce crew!  That will have to be in the spring, though, since this southern girl does not do cold weather!

 

When she drove away, I found myself filled with gratitude.  I’ve been asked if I am angry with our mother for keeping such a huge and important secret.  I am not angry, just disappointed that I missed out on growing up with a sister.  I always longed for a sister, and being raised as an only child was lonesome.  But the wine glass is half full here!  We have the rest of our years to bond, and I know that we will develop an incredible sisterhood.  We have already begun to weave this relationship together. 

I have also been plagued by the question of why God sent us in a wild figure 8 towards connecting.  Why were we in such close proximity of one another if that was not to be the time of discovery?  Were we soaking up each other’s energies?  Was it God’s original plan, but then He changed the timeline due to other factors?  I know that there will likely never be answers to these questions, but they are thought provoking, to say the least.

So maybe Sunday mornings are not always easy after all. Maybe they are more for enlightening revelations!   I’m thinking we need to start an annual tradition on the 4^th Sunday morning in September – Sister Sunday, maybe?  I’m down for a new holiday!  Whether it’s ever a holiday or not, September 23 will forever hold an incredible space in my heart. 

-Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment, until it becomes a memory. -Dr Suess

To be continued!  😊

-Natalie, “the little sister”

To read the Big Sister's story, click here. 

My Story

September 17. September 23. Two ordinary dates in past years. But not in 2018. I suppose if I am to tell my story, I must also mention February 22, a date already significant since both Mark and I celebrate our birthdays on this day. In 2018, though, it is the day my daughter gifted me an Ancestry DNA kit. Honestly, I had few expectations when I spit into the little tube that was provided, sealed the envelope, and slipped it into the mailbox. And those few expectations were met when the first results I received were limited to 3^rd and 4^th cousin matches. Oh, I tried to make some sense out of those connections, but with no knowledge of any surnames, it proved a difficult, if not impossible, task. So I abandoned my results, simply satisfied with the additional information the test gave me about my heritage. Having grown up knowing my biological mother was Vietnamese, it was indeed fascinating to discover the other half of my heritage was comprised of English, Welsh, and other northwestern European roots.

And so life marched on. Another homeschool year finished well, my daughter graduated, summer began and ended, I dropped my first child off at college, and a new school year began. Amidst homework, soccer games, and Mom Taxi duty, there it was: September 17. Just an ordinary day. I sat down to check my email and mindlessly began deleting junk mail. Out of habit, I started to click Delete on an email from Ancestry.com, which I assumed was simply like the almost daily emails I receive from them: Only $59 for an Ancestry kit. (Why do I need ANOTHER Ancestry kit??) Hurry before this promotion ends! But then I saw “You have a first cousin match” in the subject line. First cousin? I know how to make sense of a first cousin! Heart pounding, I clicked the message and read the first words among many that I would exchange with my new cousin, Julie.

My existence was a surprise to Julie, and while she recovered from the shock, I did some sleuthing. I’m not saying my family labeled my activities over the next 10 hours or so obsessive…but I’m not denying it either. I googled, stalked Facebook profiles, and searched White Pages and Ancestry. My oldest daughter may or may not have called me creepy on a couple of occasions, but my research (that sounds so much better than stalking, doesn’t it?) paid off. It really didn’t take me long to identify my father James Hall, his ex-wife, their two daughters and son (my half-sisters and half-brother), and another half-brother with the most recent wife. I also discovered that, sadly, my father passed away in 1996.

All the while I continued to grow my relationship with my cousin through emails, texts, and phone calls. We really connected, and she was kind enough to regale me with tales of the Hall family. And that was enough for me, honestly – at least for the moment, though I do hope to connect with my father’s family at some point. As for my mother, I sincerely believed I would never uncover details about her; I don't know why, but I assumed she returned to Vietnam following my birth and adoption. But on a whim, I googled “California adoption records,” and this search led me to Find My Family, an adoption registry that connects birth families who register with adoptees who register. I had seen this registry before but did not have enough information to register. Now I had a paternal name. So I registered but still had zero expectations that anything would come of it.

I think it was Thursday I registered with Find My Family, and because of my low expectations, I didn’t give the site a second thought. That Saturday night as I settled into bed for the night, I checked my email. It was about 11:30. And there it was: an email from Judy at Find My Family. 

The email said, “I think your mom’s name is Tu Ngo.” 

“Natalie: your possible sister?” WHAT? I have a name for my mother? And I have a SISTER??

“Do you have more information?” My heart dropped. No. I registered with all the information I had…which was so much more information than I had ever possessed in all 45 years of my life. I did have a birth certificate number, though, so I gave that to her, then went to bed only to lie there all night plotting my strategy on how I was going to find my mother.

At some point during the night – or early morning hours – I fell asleep, only to awaken at 6:00. September 23. Again, I expected no updates, but my heart still thumped wildly against my chest as I opened my email. And there it was: another email from Judy. 

This email stated, “Tu [IS] your mother.” 

“Natalie [IS] your sister, and this is [Natalie's] possible Facebook profile [linked].” (Apparently other people are as adept at Facebook stalking as I am.) 

Judy also attached information about the brief marriage of my father James and mother Tu as well as Tu’s naturalization information. I studied that last bit of information with great curiosity because it noted that she was granted naturalization in Atlanta. How did my birth mother end up in Georgia where I spent so much of my adult life? I would learn the answer to this question later that day.

I went to church on that Sunday, wondering all along what I should do. I had found a phone number on White Pages for my mother. Should I call her? Was she even still alive? Would I give her a heart attack if she was alive? With Alex at college and Mark out of town, I texted them for their advice. They said I should call. Once I got home from church, heart pounding out of my chest, I dialed my mother’s phone number. The number was disconnected. Now what should I do? I texted Mark and Alex. We finally collectively decided I should Facebook message my sister, so I sat down and drafted a message in Word, and before I could rethink it a gazillion times, I copied and pasted it into a Facebook message and clicked Send. 

And then I sat there and waited. 

And looked at the computer screen. 

And waited.

Alex, I texted, what does it mean when there is a checkmark surrounded by an empty circle by my message? She said it meant my message had been delivered.

Are you sure? I thought the circle was supposed to be filled in. What if she didn’t get it? She assured me she would.

And I waited some more. And stared at the computer screen some more.

She accepted my message request!!!! I texted to Mark and Alex.

Oh my goodness! There are dots. She’s writing!

And then there it was: a reply from my sister. Although it’s her tale to tell, I know she was, to say the least, caught by surprise. Our mother had never told her about me, so the news sent her reeling a bit, but she still asked me when I would like to chat by phone. I, of course, replied, “Now!” In retrospect, I feel badly, realizing that for me, this had been 45 years in the making, whereas for her, my Facebook message a mere 60 minutes ago changed her life in an instant. But what a wonderful sister to meet my immediate demands and proceed with a phone call!

We chatted that first day, September 23, for over an hour and kept in close touch through texts and other phone calls in the days that followed. We both decided that it was not Natalie’s place to tell our mother about my contact, and we felt it would be best for me to write her a personal letter. Since our mother lives with Natalie, I was kept closely informed about the letter and therefore knew the day it arrived and was delivered to my mother. I wondered what would happen. Would she write? call? ignore it? My answer came the next day with a phone call. It was very nice talking to my mother. She thanked me profusely for finding her. I told her we would meet soon. As my trip to meet them drew near, my mother showed her nurturing side by calling me on two occasions to remind me to bring a sweater because the weather in Atlanta had turned chilly!

The day of my trip finally came and, as any of my friends on social media know, the Big Meet took place on October 30^th. Actually, I have a confession to make: my sister and I met alone on the night of October 29^th, so we could have some time, just the two of us. It was so extraordinary, yet so comfortable, meeting Natalie that first time. As we had kept in touch throughout the month of October, it was obvious we clicked and that we had a lot in common. “That nature vs. nurture is pretty fascinating,” we mentioned on a number of occasions as we uncovered bit by bit how alike we are. 

On October 30^th, I got to spend some one-on-one time with my mother to get to know her a bit as well. We chatted, went to lunch, strolled through the mall, and ate chocolate cake together!

What a blessing to meet and connect with my mother and sister! But there is more: I also got a brother-in-law, a niece, and two nephews in the new deal! Although I only had a day, it was such a pleasure getting to know my brother-in-law, niece, and one of my nephews. I can’t wait to meet the other nephew in a future visit. It’s all so crazy. I have brothers-in-law, nieces, and nephews by marriage, but none that aren’t the in-laws. Now I have my very own relatives! 

What’s even weirder is looking into my sister’s face and seeing myself. Because I never shared a resemblance with my parents, seeing myself in my own children has been fascinating for me. But now to see myself in two adults – my mother and sister – and have people tell us we look alike, well, that is so…intriguing? satisfying? As with much of this whole experience, I don’t always have the right words – or even words at all – to define the experience or what I’m feeling. I do know that I feel nothing but hope, anticipation, and joy in thinking about the future and growing my relationship with my new family.

Before I close this part of my story – which really is just the beginning – I would be remiss if I didn’t share some of the amazing geographical coincidences in our journey. Both Natalie and I were born in California, and both of us left California while still babies: Natalie went with our mother and her father to Idaho; I left with my adoptive parents to Canada, Switzerland, and finally Cote d’Ivoire. After two years in Idaho, Natalie and her family moved to Georgia to join one of our mother’s sisters who lived in the area. Georgia, then, is where Natalie grew up and still lives. I of course moved to Georgia to finish college in 1992, married Mark there, and we were there until we moved to Connecticut in 2010. Tracing the way our paths traversed and nearly collided on multiple occasions between 1992-2010 is nothing short of crazy. My mother and sister both owned houses across the street from each other and a quarter mile from an apartment complex where Mark and I lived with roommates right before we married. Additionally, Natalie lived in the same apartment complex as Mark. Although we were never in these same places at the same time, the time lapses are short, and in our discussions, we have recollected many times where we frequented the same shops, drove the same streets, and journeyed the same paths.

Over the last month, I have repeatedly questioned: Why did God allow our lives to cross so specifically, yet didn’t allow us to connect? The only answer I know and accept is that it is all in His timing. Whatever the past, whatever could have been, is irrelevant because the present is now, and we can make the most of all that is ahead of us. Best of all, no matter the timeline, I found my mother and little sister! My SISTER! I still can’t believe it! All my life I wished for a sister, so Natalie is truly a gift! While I couldn’t be a big sister to her all my life, I’m all about being there for her now. And as the September 23rds pass by in future years, I know we will continue to be a blessing to each other.

To read the Little Sister's perspective, click here.