I found my mother when I was 28 years of age, I had spent many years trying to find something of my past, it was only by persistence to the registrar of births and deaths, he finally told me my mother’s surname, I found her the next day! She was living in an Institution, her title on her personal papers was 'imbecile', she was deaf and dumb and had been living there since shortly after giving birth, the Nuns had told her I died at birth. There was nothing wrong with my mother, in those days there was nowhere to put deaf people and that is how they were classed. On my second visit to see her she stood in front of me and pretended she was rocking a baby in her arms, she pointed to me and then up to the sky, I shook my head to say no, and pointed back to me and then to her, she burst into tears and hugged and hugged me, she must have wondered all those years if what they told her was true.
Had my adopted parents cared to tell me anything about my real mother I would have known that the bus stop where I caught the bus home from school every day for many years, I later found that my mother lived in a house right next to the bus stop. I wonder now how many times I could have walked past her.
- Discovering my adoption
- Discovering my adoption part 2