The Story:
The hostess found an empty table, and we were promptly seated. Nancy and Henry sat on one side, and I took a seat next to Maggie. Our server took our drink orders, and then headed off.
Maggie pulled out a photo album along with a pile of loose photographs. She opened the album, and began flipping through the pages. She started with the older black and white images that had been taken back in Ireland and England. She identified the family members in each. Mostly, those pictured were my biological grandmother, Monica, my grandfather, Michael, and their siblings.
Consequently, she began telling the story of how this part of the family came to the United States. Many years ago, one of Monica’s sisters moved to the U.S. She ended up getting married, and soon after she and her husband sponsored my grandparents to come and live in America. Prior to their departure, Monica gave birth to fraternal twins, Maggie and Ann.
After arriving in the U.S., they made their home in one of New York’s most infamous boroughs, Brooklyn. They rented a flat, and made a decent life for themselves. Shortly after, Monica and Michael became the proud parents of Geraldine and Michael Jr. My grandfather saved his wages while working as a mason. He eventually built a house in Danbury, CT, and moved the family. After some time there, they all moved out to the Midwest. Apparently, the rolling hills and abundant horses made Missouri very comparable to parts of Ireland.
Maggie explained that my biological grandparents were very tough, but caring individuals. She pulled out a photo of my grandfather. He was standing next to a horse. To prove how tough Michael was, she told me that he had beaten that horse into submission with only his fists. She never said whether or not the horse deserved the beating.
I eventually asked about the details surrounding Gerri’s death. Maggie didn’t have much to say. It was quite obvious that she was a bit uncomfortable getting into the story. She basically just said that Gerri had been murdered by an acquaintance. I wasn’t told much more than that.
Finally, Maggie pulled out the photos of Amy. I was so happy to see that she looked like a real girl, rather than looking like me with long hair. Amy was married and had a son, Tristin. She was one of the smarter people who had decided to move south for warmer weather.
I did ask about my biological father. Maggie explained that he was married and had other children. She gave me his name and mailing address. Henry and I told Maggie that it would be better for her to make the first contact.
We eventually finished our meals, and Henry paid for lunch. He gave the waitress a nice tip. She seemed to have understood that something was taking place at our table, and she did a great job of giving us space. We gathered our things and walked outside. We took a few photos, said our good-bye, and went our separate ways.
The Emotions:
Seeing all of the family photos had been very surreal. It was so odd to think that I had missed out on all of those events. Although, I was very proud to have learned that I came from such strong background. Just for the record, I have never punched a horse in the face, but if a horse were to ever look at me funny, well, he better just watch out.
I enjoyed seeing the photos of my grandparents. They looked so proud. Maggie was correct, my grandfather was definitely a tough looking man. It’s a shame that I didn’t receive that same trait. I might be lean, but I’m not very big. He had such a stern look on his face in all of the photos. That look reminded me of my facial expressions when I’m thinking or trying to concentrate.
My close connection to Ireland made me very proud. Hearing the story about how my family ended up in the U.S. was riveting. It seemed that the family had a very rich history. After learning the family name, Hoban, I kept saying it over and over in my head. My desire to take a trip to Ireland only grew stronger after meeting with Maggie.
When I asked Maggie about Gerri’s death, I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t go into much detail. I had no desire to upset her. I suppose her answer created even more questions, though. After learning of my adoption, I had taken into consideration that my biological mother may not have been alive. Obviously, that ended up being the case. I was a bit pissed off, though. That was just my luck. I had finally found my biological family, but I would never have the opportunity to meet my mother. Go figure.
As for seeing the photos of my sister, Amy, I’m sure that my face lit-up. She was so pretty, and it was so odd to know that we had come from the same parents. I’m not sure I can accurately explain how it felt to know that she existed. I already had two sisters. One was my adoptive sister, and the other was my step sister (I love them both dearly). But to know that I had a biological sister was such an amazing gift.
When Maggie told me what she knew about my biological father, I was a bit under whelmed. I mean, he and Gerri had never even gotten married, but now he was married and had even more children. So, that means I also have half brothers and sisters. My first impression was that this guy never gave much thought to the potential consequences of his actions. Truth be told, I was in no hurry to get a hold of him. I was very content with just getting to know my mother’s side of the family.
The Advice:
I can’t express how important it is to take everything in stride, especially when it comes to the adoptee finally meeting his/her biological family. Predicting the outcome of such a meeting is useless. You’ll just have to suck it up and roll with the punches.
When asking questions, make sure to consider how they’ll affect the person you’re asking. I needed to know how my mother had died, but I knew that it had to be a difficult subject for Maggie. Having empathy for all of those involved will make your experience so much more satisfying.
My last words of advice are this; try not to make a habit of punching animals in the face. My grandfather was very lucky that the horse he beat didn’t bring back all of his horse friends. Had that been the case, the story would most likely have had a very different ending. Horse gangs are quite prevalent in Missouri, and they can be a very nasty bunch, indeed.
- Andrew
