Take a look at the two brains in the figure above. The one on the left obviously looks very healthy compared to the one on the right. Now think about all the things that could cause this size difference. These are two brains from children 6 weeks old. The brain on the left is a healthy brain and the one on the right is an underdeveloped brain from a child suffering from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. This is a preventable birth defect. Would you risk the chance of causing this harm to a child?
Ania, a baby girl, born in 2008 in Poland was born drunk. She was over the legal blood alcohol level for adults. Her blood alcohol level was .29. The legal limit here in the United States is .08. In perspective Ania’s blood alcohol level was equivalent to an adult drinking about 2 1/3 bottles of wine. That is ridiculous. Ania came into the world drunk and then had to be weaned off of alcohol. She then suffered through many physical and mental problems because of the FAS she was born with. It was not Ania’s fault that she contracted FAS but her parents.
This needs to change. People need to be more aware of the consequences of their actions. No child deserves to have the odds stacked against them purely because their parents were too naïve to think that their actions wouldn’t carry consequences for their unborn child. Is it worth it? No.
Once Fetal Alcohol Syndrome has taken affect the damage is irreversible. The child will go through life with physical and mental handicaps as shown in Figure 2. This can easily be avoided. No child must face this life. If every mother didn’t drink this would not happen. Some people think that one or two drinks a week is okay when you are pregnant. This may be true for some people, but would you want to risk the chance of hurting your unborn child? Some people don’t care, but an unborn child is the future generation. If you were adult enough to get pregnant you can be adult enough to keep yourself healthy to ensure the health of the child in your womb.
Physical Characteristics of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome include but are not limited to, a small head, thin upper lip, underdeveloped jaw, and a flat cheek area. To look at these characteristics refer to figure 3.
Figure 3
If a woman is to drink alcohol in excess in the first weeks of pregnancy she will be affecting the development of the child’s brain, heart, arms, eyes, and legs. Throughout the entire pregnancy the brain is being developed. At anytime during the pregnancy if the woman is to drink she could cause mental retardation to her child. We need to educate mothers fully when they are pregnant to the affects their actions have on the child within their womb.
Damage Caused by Alcohol:
1st Trimester:
causes greatest brain damage, facial malformations, miscarriage, damages heart, liver and kidneys
2nd Trimester: impairs brain development, damages muscles, teeth, bones and skin
3rd Trimester: impairs lung development, poor weight gain for fetus, causes early labor and delivery
Figure 4
The Damage Caused by Alcohol Table, Figure 4, shows the damages to the developing fetus by trimester. Again this breaks down the affects a pregnant woman’s actions have on their unborn child.
People need to be more aware of the consequences of their actions. No child deserves the aftermath of their parents naivety. Is it worth it? No. We can prevent this by educating mothers before more children are hurt.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Feature Article
Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is a problem. It is growing every year even though there are advances in medical education. One in five hundred children born have fetal alcohol syndrome. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, otherwise known as FAS, is a birth defect that occurs when the mother of an unborn child drinks alcohol while pregnant. For an unborn child any amount of alcohol is dangerous and can cause mental and physical retardation. The reason that alcohol causes such problems for unborn children is that the alcohol is absorbed through the placenta and gets to the developing fetus causing irreversible damage.
Figure 1
Figure 1 shows the difference between two brains of children the same age, 6 weeks old. The brain on the left is a normal brain. The one on the right is an underdeveloped brain, caused by FAS. This is a preventable birth defect. Would you risk the chance of causing this harm to a child?
Figure 2
One in five hundred children have Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.
Once Fetal Alcohol Syndrome has taken affect the damage is irreversible. The child will go through life with physical and mental handicaps as shown in Figure 2. This can easily be avoided. No child must face this life. If every mother didn’t drink this would not happen. Some people think that one or two drinks a week is okay when you are pregnant. This may be true for some people, but would anyone want to risk the chance of hurting their unborn child? Some people don’t care, but an unborn child is the future generation. If you were adult enough to get pregnant you can be adult enough to keep yourself healthy to ensure the health of the child in your womb.
Physical Characteristics of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome include but are not limited to, a small head, thin upper lip, underdeveloped jaw, and a flat cheek area. To look at these characteristics refer to figure 3.
Figure 3
Figure 4
Figure 4, above, shows the development of a child in the womb. If a woman were to drink alcohol in excess in the first weeks of pregnancy she would be affecting the development of the child’s brain, heart, arms, eyes, and legs. Throughout the entire pregnancy the brain is being developed. At anytime during the pregnancy if the woman were to drink she could cause mental retardation to her child. We need to educate mothers fully when they are pregnant to the affects their actions have on the child within their womb.
Damage Caused by Alcohol:
1st Trimester:
causes greatest brain damage, facial malformations, miscarriage, damages heart, liver and kidneys
2nd Trimester: impairs brain development, damages muscles, teeth, bones and skin
3rd Trimester: impairs lung development, poor weight gain for fetus, causes early labor and delivery
Figure 5
The Damage Caused by Alcohol Table, Figure 5, shows the damages to the developing fetus by trimester. Again this breaks down the affects a pregnant woman’s actions have on their unborn child.
A baby girl born in 2008 in Poland was born drunk. She was over the legal limit for adults. Her blood alcohol level was .29. In perspective that would be equivalent to an adult drinking about 2 1/3 bottles of wine. That is ridiculous. The child coming into the world drunk must then be weaned off of alcohol. It is not the child’s fault but the parents.
This needs to change. People need to be more aware of the consequences of their actions. No child deserves to have the odds stacked against them purely because their parents were too naïve to think that their actions wouldn’t carry consequences for their unborn child. Is it worth it? No.
Figure 1
Figure 1 shows the difference between two brains of children the same age, 6 weeks old. The brain on the left is a normal brain. The one on the right is an underdeveloped brain, caused by FAS. This is a preventable birth defect. Would you risk the chance of causing this harm to a child?
Figure 2
One in five hundred children have Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.
Once Fetal Alcohol Syndrome has taken affect the damage is irreversible. The child will go through life with physical and mental handicaps as shown in Figure 2. This can easily be avoided. No child must face this life. If every mother didn’t drink this would not happen. Some people think that one or two drinks a week is okay when you are pregnant. This may be true for some people, but would anyone want to risk the chance of hurting their unborn child? Some people don’t care, but an unborn child is the future generation. If you were adult enough to get pregnant you can be adult enough to keep yourself healthy to ensure the health of the child in your womb.
Physical Characteristics of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome include but are not limited to, a small head, thin upper lip, underdeveloped jaw, and a flat cheek area. To look at these characteristics refer to figure 3.
Figure 3
Figure 4
Figure 4, above, shows the development of a child in the womb. If a woman were to drink alcohol in excess in the first weeks of pregnancy she would be affecting the development of the child’s brain, heart, arms, eyes, and legs. Throughout the entire pregnancy the brain is being developed. At anytime during the pregnancy if the woman were to drink she could cause mental retardation to her child. We need to educate mothers fully when they are pregnant to the affects their actions have on the child within their womb.
Damage Caused by Alcohol:
1st Trimester:
causes greatest brain damage, facial malformations, miscarriage, damages heart, liver and kidneys
2nd Trimester: impairs brain development, damages muscles, teeth, bones and skin
3rd Trimester: impairs lung development, poor weight gain for fetus, causes early labor and delivery
Figure 5
The Damage Caused by Alcohol Table, Figure 5, shows the damages to the developing fetus by trimester. Again this breaks down the affects a pregnant woman’s actions have on their unborn child.
A baby girl born in 2008 in Poland was born drunk. She was over the legal limit for adults. Her blood alcohol level was .29. In perspective that would be equivalent to an adult drinking about 2 1/3 bottles of wine. That is ridiculous. The child coming into the world drunk must then be weaned off of alcohol. It is not the child’s fault but the parents.
This needs to change. People need to be more aware of the consequences of their actions. No child deserves to have the odds stacked against them purely because their parents were too naïve to think that their actions wouldn’t carry consequences for their unborn child. Is it worth it? No.
Profile-Final
It was a brisk November morning, and I had woken before my parents for the first time in ages. I was going to a friend’s trial to be supportive as he got sentenced. I decided to take some of the morning burden off of my dad and walk the dogs for him. As I was getting ready to walk out the door I left a note explaining where I was going and why, I left it on the kitchen sink as always. I got in my car and started out to meet my friend’s mom and head to the hearing.
I drove down a back road that I knew very well and looked down at my radio to change the station while rounding a sharp turn. This was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made and I quickly learned that. As I looked up I saw a school bus headed straight for me in my lane over the double yellow line. I had no time to react before impact. The school bus quickly pulled over. My car would not move and was sitting in the middle of the road. I tried to open my door and couldn’t get it opened. Finally I reached over to my passenger door opened it and climbed out of my car. As I was looking at the damage to my car I pulled out my cell phone and called a friend of mine who drives a tow truck.
As the phone rang I drifted into a child hood memory. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table as I was setting it for dinner. I dropped a fork while trying to set his place and he got aggravated quickly and began to yell. I tried to brush it off, but as I walked his glass of milk to him I spilled it all over him. He quickly began yelling and I cowered until my mom yelled back for me. Billy then answered the phone.
As I hung up the phone I began walking to the bus. I got on the bus saw three kids and noticed the bus driver was not there. I got off the bus and noticed she was talking to someone stopped in the road behind me. I walked over to her and asked, “Ma’am are you and the kids ok?”
“I’m fine but I’m not sure about the kids, they are handicap.”
She went back to her conversation and I began walking away. I pulled out my phone and called my mom. As I was talking to her I began freaking out. My dad was going to flip! This was not good. My mom tried to tell me he didn’t have to find out, looking at my car there was no way he would not find out. He had yelled at me when I fell down the stairs as a child, wrecking my car was so much worse. He was going to be mad; no he was going to be furious. This was going to be inexcusable in his eyes, I could feel it.
Billy walked up to me out of nowhere and I instantly started crying. “It’s ok Marissa, accidents happen.”
“Not like this they don’t! My dad is going to kill me.”
“He will understand.”
“Billy, you know my dad. He will not understand this one.”
I had been riding my bike one day and had somehow manages to fall off the sidewalk with the front tire and flip the bike. I did a summersault over the handle bars and landed on the cement sidewalk. I was all scuffed up and began crying, my dad ran from the back yard to see what was wrong and began yelling when he found me. Billy had witnessed this from across the street. He knew how my dad was.
The state trooper walked up and began assessing the damages on the school bus and my cavalier. I was shaking when my mom showed up. She jumped out of the car, ran up, and gave me a hug. The state trooper had already taken the bus driver’s statement and then asked for me to come to his vehicle to give mine.
“I need you to tell me what happened and then write your statement here,” he said as he pointed to the box I was to write my statement in.
“I was on my way out of town on Happy Creek to meet a friend’s mom for his court hearing, as I came around the turn the bus was over the double yellow line and in my lane and before I had time to think about moving we collided.”
“She said you were in her lane.”
“Ok.”With that I quickly decided it would be better not to argue with the cop. Then I quickly started to panic again. My dad was going to have my ass. There was no question about it. This was my first day of thanksgiving break my freshman year of college; I was nowhere near being an adult in my father’s eyes. My mom was trying to figure out how to get around telling my dad, which I knew was never going to work, but that was always her solution; don’t tell him and he won’t know. My dad was intelligent and I knew he would find my car one way or another. Billy kept saying that my dad was not going to freak out, I didn’t believe him. Finally I had to call my dad, because my car had to be towed somewhere and it would be cheaper to just take it home. Once Billy’s boss caught wind of this tow my dad was going to be called, after all he drank coffee at that tow shop every morning before work. I finally dialed my dad’s cell.
“Dutch?”
“Hey Papa.”
“Thanks for walking the dogs this morning, did you make it to the hearing yet?”
“No I never made it to meet his mom.”
“What happened?”
“I got in an accident on Happy Creek.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, Mama’s here and Billy is towing it, where should he tow it to.”
“How bad is it?”
“It won’t move.”
“Ok, well just have him tow it here. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I think so.”
“Ok. Accidents happen Dutch, it will be ok. I love you.”
I about dropped my phone. I quickly collected myself and replied, “I love you too.”
I couldn’t believe it. My dad was never understanding when I got in an accident. My mom always was, but she was the parent I got my accident prone tendencies from. Every accident my mother had been in while I was growing up I distinctly remember my dad’s horrible attitude and his “you should have been able to avoid this” comments. I had been in a few fender benders in the two years I had been driving and every time my dad flipped out on me. I had no idea how this one was different, but something had changed in my dad and that was more apparent than ever that day.
I later found out that Billy had talked to my dad and had told him that he needed to be a little more understanding with me, because every time he flipped out I freaked out. I felt horrible about the accident especially because there were three kids on the bus, I really didn’t need any more grief than I was already giving myself. My dad finally understood that. Ever since then my dad and I have become closer. Before I thought he was just mean and cranky all the time, and because my mom always tried to hide things that would get him upset, I had learned to fear him. That day the fear was replaced by an understanding that has since grown.
I drove down a back road that I knew very well and looked down at my radio to change the station while rounding a sharp turn. This was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made and I quickly learned that. As I looked up I saw a school bus headed straight for me in my lane over the double yellow line. I had no time to react before impact. The school bus quickly pulled over. My car would not move and was sitting in the middle of the road. I tried to open my door and couldn’t get it opened. Finally I reached over to my passenger door opened it and climbed out of my car. As I was looking at the damage to my car I pulled out my cell phone and called a friend of mine who drives a tow truck.
As the phone rang I drifted into a child hood memory. My dad was sitting at the kitchen table as I was setting it for dinner. I dropped a fork while trying to set his place and he got aggravated quickly and began to yell. I tried to brush it off, but as I walked his glass of milk to him I spilled it all over him. He quickly began yelling and I cowered until my mom yelled back for me. Billy then answered the phone.
As I hung up the phone I began walking to the bus. I got on the bus saw three kids and noticed the bus driver was not there. I got off the bus and noticed she was talking to someone stopped in the road behind me. I walked over to her and asked, “Ma’am are you and the kids ok?”
“I’m fine but I’m not sure about the kids, they are handicap.”
She went back to her conversation and I began walking away. I pulled out my phone and called my mom. As I was talking to her I began freaking out. My dad was going to flip! This was not good. My mom tried to tell me he didn’t have to find out, looking at my car there was no way he would not find out. He had yelled at me when I fell down the stairs as a child, wrecking my car was so much worse. He was going to be mad; no he was going to be furious. This was going to be inexcusable in his eyes, I could feel it.
Billy walked up to me out of nowhere and I instantly started crying. “It’s ok Marissa, accidents happen.”
“Not like this they don’t! My dad is going to kill me.”
“He will understand.”
“Billy, you know my dad. He will not understand this one.”
I had been riding my bike one day and had somehow manages to fall off the sidewalk with the front tire and flip the bike. I did a summersault over the handle bars and landed on the cement sidewalk. I was all scuffed up and began crying, my dad ran from the back yard to see what was wrong and began yelling when he found me. Billy had witnessed this from across the street. He knew how my dad was.
The state trooper walked up and began assessing the damages on the school bus and my cavalier. I was shaking when my mom showed up. She jumped out of the car, ran up, and gave me a hug. The state trooper had already taken the bus driver’s statement and then asked for me to come to his vehicle to give mine.
“I need you to tell me what happened and then write your statement here,” he said as he pointed to the box I was to write my statement in.
“I was on my way out of town on Happy Creek to meet a friend’s mom for his court hearing, as I came around the turn the bus was over the double yellow line and in my lane and before I had time to think about moving we collided.”
“She said you were in her lane.”
“Ok.”With that I quickly decided it would be better not to argue with the cop. Then I quickly started to panic again. My dad was going to have my ass. There was no question about it. This was my first day of thanksgiving break my freshman year of college; I was nowhere near being an adult in my father’s eyes. My mom was trying to figure out how to get around telling my dad, which I knew was never going to work, but that was always her solution; don’t tell him and he won’t know. My dad was intelligent and I knew he would find my car one way or another. Billy kept saying that my dad was not going to freak out, I didn’t believe him. Finally I had to call my dad, because my car had to be towed somewhere and it would be cheaper to just take it home. Once Billy’s boss caught wind of this tow my dad was going to be called, after all he drank coffee at that tow shop every morning before work. I finally dialed my dad’s cell.
“Dutch?”
“Hey Papa.”
“Thanks for walking the dogs this morning, did you make it to the hearing yet?”
“No I never made it to meet his mom.”
“What happened?”
“I got in an accident on Happy Creek.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, Mama’s here and Billy is towing it, where should he tow it to.”
“How bad is it?”
“It won’t move.”
“Ok, well just have him tow it here. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I think so.”
“Ok. Accidents happen Dutch, it will be ok. I love you.”
I about dropped my phone. I quickly collected myself and replied, “I love you too.”
I couldn’t believe it. My dad was never understanding when I got in an accident. My mom always was, but she was the parent I got my accident prone tendencies from. Every accident my mother had been in while I was growing up I distinctly remember my dad’s horrible attitude and his “you should have been able to avoid this” comments. I had been in a few fender benders in the two years I had been driving and every time my dad flipped out on me. I had no idea how this one was different, but something had changed in my dad and that was more apparent than ever that day.
I later found out that Billy had talked to my dad and had told him that he needed to be a little more understanding with me, because every time he flipped out I freaked out. I felt horrible about the accident especially because there were three kids on the bus, I really didn’t need any more grief than I was already giving myself. My dad finally understood that. Ever since then my dad and I have become closer. Before I thought he was just mean and cranky all the time, and because my mom always tried to hide things that would get him upset, I had learned to fear him. That day the fear was replaced by an understanding that has since grown.
Activity
bang… Bang… BANG. That noise was so common in the garage. The fresh smell of cut wood surrounded us. Days like this were what my memories were built from. We would stay out in that garage for hours just tinkering around. That was what he was good at, tinkering. On this particular day we were building miniature houses to hang for the birds. “Ok Dutch hold these two pieces of wood like this, and I’ll hammer them together.”
“You’re going to hit my fingers!”
“No I won’t trust me.”
This was always easier said than done. He was great with his hand, really he was, but he could not protect my little hands with his other because he had no physical use of it. I tried to trust him I did but then I flinched as the hammer came closer to my small hands, suddenly I felt immense pain in three of my fingers. I started crying. He quickly dropped the hammer and took me up in his embrace. I felt safe again and soon stopped crying. As he handed me the hammer he said, “I’m sorry Dutch. How bout you hammer the rest.” This was a first experience for me. I was so excited.
Once we built the house, painted it, and let it dry, we decided to hang it. I walked out of the garage and quickly found where we should hang it. I pointed up and said, “There.” He walked over and handed me the house, I was very confused he always had to hang them, I was too small.
“You get to hang this one, I’ll lift you up so you can reach.”
“Ok Papa!” I was thrilled. This was a day of firsts for my dad and me.
“You’re going to hit my fingers!”
“No I won’t trust me.”
This was always easier said than done. He was great with his hand, really he was, but he could not protect my little hands with his other because he had no physical use of it. I tried to trust him I did but then I flinched as the hammer came closer to my small hands, suddenly I felt immense pain in three of my fingers. I started crying. He quickly dropped the hammer and took me up in his embrace. I felt safe again and soon stopped crying. As he handed me the hammer he said, “I’m sorry Dutch. How bout you hammer the rest.” This was a first experience for me. I was so excited.
Once we built the house, painted it, and let it dry, we decided to hang it. I walked out of the garage and quickly found where we should hang it. I pointed up and said, “There.” He walked over and handed me the house, I was very confused he always had to hang them, I was too small.
“You get to hang this one, I’ll lift you up so you can reach.”
“Ok Papa!” I was thrilled. This was a day of firsts for my dad and me.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Car Ride from Hell
-Get in the Car.
-Why?
-Just do it.
-Why?
-I need to drive.
-Why?
-Because I do.
-Why?
-Because I think better when I drive, and I need to process all this.
-Why?
-Are you two?
-No.
-Then quit asking why.
-I’m sorry. Where are we going?
-I have no idea yet just get in.
-Okay.
-I don’t understand you a lot of the time.
-Nobody does.
-I’m trying Josh, I really am, but this is…
-This is what?
-This is ridiculous.
-How is this ridiculous?
-There is depression you can deal with, and then there is depression you need to get help for and I think you need to get help.
-I think I have come to the right conclusion.
-It’s the easy way out.
-I know it is that’s why I want to do it.
-I don’t understand how you can want this.
-Where are we going?
-Does it matter?
-I guess not.
-I just wanted to drive.
-And I just want to end all of this pain.
-All of what pain? We all go through shit on a daily basis.
-Yea but not like I do.
-How can you say that.
-Easily, No one goes through the heart ache and pain I have.
-That’s a really conceited statement.
-How is that conceited?
-I don’t believe you.
-What did I do now?
-You don’t see how your conceited when you are making the most selfish decision you could ever make?
-Now I’m conceited and selfish?
-Yes.
-And what would you suggest I do instead?
-Go get help.
-From who?
-A Doctor.
-I’m not doing that.
-Then you’re selfish and conceited. Have you thought of how this will affect your mom?
-Who cares?
-Again, selfish, you know your mom cares.
-She aggravates me.
-She’s your mother that’s part of her job as a parent, get over it.
-I will when I’m dead.
-Why do you say shit like that?
-Why not?
-Here we go again.
-Where are we going?
-In circles obviously, you keep coming back to you want to commit suicide.
-No I mean where are we going?
-Nowhere in particular, I’m just driving.
-Why?
-Because you are driving me nuts and I need to drive.
-Okay then.
-Don’t judge me! Driving is a release for me, you need to find one that works for you, then you wouldn’t be so depressed.
-And what would you suggest?
-Writing, driving, walking, anything to get your mind off your issues.
-I always think about them, there is no way to get them off my mind.
-Just try to enjoy life and stop dwelling on all the negative aspects of it.
-What is there to enjoy? Nothing.
-That’s bullshit.
-How is that bullshit?
-Nothing is worth it. Nothing is enjoyable. There is no reason not to give up.
-Yes there is, there is plenty to live for all around you.
-Like what?
-Like the sun setting behind that mountain and the colors in the sky.
-Are you serious?
-Yes I’m serious. There is beauty all around us. You just have to open your eyes to see it.
-You’re nuts if you think that seeing the sunset is going to hinder my decision.
-Why?
-Because it doesn’t mean anything.
-Really? Some people would beg to differ.
-Well nature has never done anything for me.
-You are such a pessimist.
-Now I’m conceited, selfish, and a pessimist?
-Yup, I don’t know what to say to you anymore.
-Then stop trying.
-Fine! But think about what you will be doing to those you leave behind.
-Like who?
-Like friends, including myself. And your family, such as your mother!
-Whatever.
-I give.
-You should.
-I’ll take you home, sorry for trying to help.
-Why?
-Just do it.
-Why?
-I need to drive.
-Why?
-Because I do.
-Why?
-Because I think better when I drive, and I need to process all this.
-Why?
-Are you two?
-No.
-Then quit asking why.
-I’m sorry. Where are we going?
-I have no idea yet just get in.
-Okay.
-I don’t understand you a lot of the time.
-Nobody does.
-I’m trying Josh, I really am, but this is…
-This is what?
-This is ridiculous.
-How is this ridiculous?
-There is depression you can deal with, and then there is depression you need to get help for and I think you need to get help.
-I think I have come to the right conclusion.
-It’s the easy way out.
-I know it is that’s why I want to do it.
-I don’t understand how you can want this.
-Where are we going?
-Does it matter?
-I guess not.
-I just wanted to drive.
-And I just want to end all of this pain.
-All of what pain? We all go through shit on a daily basis.
-Yea but not like I do.
-How can you say that.
-Easily, No one goes through the heart ache and pain I have.
-That’s a really conceited statement.
-How is that conceited?
-I don’t believe you.
-What did I do now?
-You don’t see how your conceited when you are making the most selfish decision you could ever make?
-Now I’m conceited and selfish?
-Yes.
-And what would you suggest I do instead?
-Go get help.
-From who?
-A Doctor.
-I’m not doing that.
-Then you’re selfish and conceited. Have you thought of how this will affect your mom?
-Who cares?
-Again, selfish, you know your mom cares.
-She aggravates me.
-She’s your mother that’s part of her job as a parent, get over it.
-I will when I’m dead.
-Why do you say shit like that?
-Why not?
-Here we go again.
-Where are we going?
-In circles obviously, you keep coming back to you want to commit suicide.
-No I mean where are we going?
-Nowhere in particular, I’m just driving.
-Why?
-Because you are driving me nuts and I need to drive.
-Okay then.
-Don’t judge me! Driving is a release for me, you need to find one that works for you, then you wouldn’t be so depressed.
-And what would you suggest?
-Writing, driving, walking, anything to get your mind off your issues.
-I always think about them, there is no way to get them off my mind.
-Just try to enjoy life and stop dwelling on all the negative aspects of it.
-What is there to enjoy? Nothing.
-That’s bullshit.
-How is that bullshit?
-Nothing is worth it. Nothing is enjoyable. There is no reason not to give up.
-Yes there is, there is plenty to live for all around you.
-Like what?
-Like the sun setting behind that mountain and the colors in the sky.
-Are you serious?
-Yes I’m serious. There is beauty all around us. You just have to open your eyes to see it.
-You’re nuts if you think that seeing the sunset is going to hinder my decision.
-Why?
-Because it doesn’t mean anything.
-Really? Some people would beg to differ.
-Well nature has never done anything for me.
-You are such a pessimist.
-Now I’m conceited, selfish, and a pessimist?
-Yup, I don’t know what to say to you anymore.
-Then stop trying.
-Fine! But think about what you will be doing to those you leave behind.
-Like who?
-Like friends, including myself. And your family, such as your mother!
-Whatever.
-I give.
-You should.
-I’ll take you home, sorry for trying to help.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Profile
It was a brisk November morning, and I had woken before my parents for the first time in ages. I was going to a friend’s trial to be supportive as he got sentenced. I decided to take some of the morning burden off of my dad and walk the dogs for him. As I was getting ready to walk out the door I left a note explaining where I was going and why, I left it on the kitchen sink as always. I got in my car and started out to meet my friend’s mom and head to the hearing.
I drove down a back road that I know very well and looked down at my radio to change the station while rounding a sharp turn. This was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made and I quickly learned that. As I looked up I saw a school bus headed straight for me in my lane over the double yellow line. I had no time to react before impact. The school bus quickly pulled over. My car would not move and was sitting in the middle of the road. I tried to open my door and couldn’t get it opened. Finally I reached over to my passenger door opened it and climbed out of my car. As I was looking at the damage to my car I pulled out my cell phone and called a friend of mine who drives a tow truck.
“Hello?”
“Ummm, Billy, I need your help, I think I just fucked up.”
“Where are you?”
“Happy creek by the cemetery, a school bus just hit me.”
“I’ll be right there. Are you ok?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ok I’ll be right there.”
As I hung up the phone I began walking to the bus. I got on the bus saw three kids and noticed the bus driver was not there. I got off the bus and noticed she was talking to someone stopped in the road behind me. I walked over to her and asked, “Ma’am are you and the kids ok?”
“I’m fine but I’m not sure about the kids, they are handicap.”
She went back to her conversation and I began walking away. I pulled out my phone and called my mom. “Mama, I just got in an accident.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, I’m fine but I hit a handicap school bus.”
“Oh my god baby, you just committed the mother sin of all driving sins.”
“You don’t think I know that!”
“Where are you baby?”
“I’m on Happy Creek where the cemetery is.”
“Ok I’m on my way have you called the police?”
“No, but I called Billy and the cops are pulling in now.”
“Ok I will be there in a few minutes.”
“Ok.”
Billy walked up to me out of nowhere and I instantly started crying. “It’s ok Marissa, accidents happen.”
“Not like this they don’t! My dad is going to kill me.”
“He will understand.”
“Billy, you know my dad. He will not understand this one.”
The state trooper walked up and began assessing the damages on the school bus and my cavalier. I was shaking when my mom showed up. She jumped out of the car, ran up, and gave me a hug. The state trooper had already taken the bus driver’s statement and then asked for me to come to his vehicle.
“I need you to tell me what happened and then write your statement here,” he said as he pointed to the box I was to write my statement in.
“I was on my way out of town on Happy Creek to meet a friend’s mom for his court hearing, as I came around the turn the bus was over the double yellow line and in my lane and before I had time to think about moving we collided.”
“She said you were in her lane.”
“No she was in my lane.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure.”
“Well I am writing you a failure to maintain your side of the highway ticket.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Do you want a reckless driving ticket?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not kidding, I’m writing you a lower ticket, if you want to fight it you can go to court.”
“Ok.” I decided very quickly it would be better not to argue with the cop. Then I quickly started to panic again. My dad was going to have my ass. There was no question about it. This was my first day of thanksgiving break my freshman year of college; I was nowhere near being an adult in my father’s eyes. My mom was trying to figure out how to get around telling my dad, which I knew was never going to work, but that was always her solution; don’t tell him and he won’t know. My dad was intelligent and I knew he would find my car one way or another. Billy kept saying that my dad was not going to freak out, I didn’t believe him. Finally I had to call my dad, because my car had to be towed somewhere and it would be cheaper to just take it home. Once Billy’s boss caught wind of this tow my dad was going to be called, after all he drank coffee at that tow shop every morning before work. I finally dialed my dad’s cell.
“Dutch?”
“Hey Papa.”
“Thanks for walking the dogs this morning, did you make it to the hearing yet?”
“No I never made it to meet his mom.”
“What happened?”
“I got in an accident on Happy Creek.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, Mama’s here and Billy is towing it, where should he tow it to.”
“How bad is it?”
“It won’t move.”
“Yea just have him tow it here. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I think so.”
“Ok. Accidents happen Dutch, it will be ok. I love you.”
I about dropped my phone. I quickly collected myself and replied, “I love you too.”
I couldn’t believe it. My dad was never understanding when I got in an accident. My mom always was, but she was the parent I got my accident prone tendencies from. Every accident my mother had been in while I was growing up I distinctly remember my dad’s horrible attitude and his “you should have been able to avoid this” comments. I had been in a few fender benders in the two years I had been driving and every time my dad flipped out on me. I had no idea how this one was different, but something had changed in my dad and that was more apparent than ever that day.
I later found out that Billy had talked to my dad and had told him that he needed to be a little more understanding with me, because every time he flipped out I freaked out. I felt horrible about the accident especially because there were three kids on the bus, I really didn’t need any more grief than I was already giving myself. My dad finally understood that. Ever since then my dad and I have become closer. Before I thought he was just mean and cranky all the time, and because my mom always tried to hide things that would get him upset, I had learned to fear him. That day that fear was replaced by an understanding that has since grown.
I drove down a back road that I know very well and looked down at my radio to change the station while rounding a sharp turn. This was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made and I quickly learned that. As I looked up I saw a school bus headed straight for me in my lane over the double yellow line. I had no time to react before impact. The school bus quickly pulled over. My car would not move and was sitting in the middle of the road. I tried to open my door and couldn’t get it opened. Finally I reached over to my passenger door opened it and climbed out of my car. As I was looking at the damage to my car I pulled out my cell phone and called a friend of mine who drives a tow truck.
“Hello?”
“Ummm, Billy, I need your help, I think I just fucked up.”
“Where are you?”
“Happy creek by the cemetery, a school bus just hit me.”
“I’ll be right there. Are you ok?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ok I’ll be right there.”
As I hung up the phone I began walking to the bus. I got on the bus saw three kids and noticed the bus driver was not there. I got off the bus and noticed she was talking to someone stopped in the road behind me. I walked over to her and asked, “Ma’am are you and the kids ok?”
“I’m fine but I’m not sure about the kids, they are handicap.”
She went back to her conversation and I began walking away. I pulled out my phone and called my mom. “Mama, I just got in an accident.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, I’m fine but I hit a handicap school bus.”
“Oh my god baby, you just committed the mother sin of all driving sins.”
“You don’t think I know that!”
“Where are you baby?”
“I’m on Happy Creek where the cemetery is.”
“Ok I’m on my way have you called the police?”
“No, but I called Billy and the cops are pulling in now.”
“Ok I will be there in a few minutes.”
“Ok.”
Billy walked up to me out of nowhere and I instantly started crying. “It’s ok Marissa, accidents happen.”
“Not like this they don’t! My dad is going to kill me.”
“He will understand.”
“Billy, you know my dad. He will not understand this one.”
The state trooper walked up and began assessing the damages on the school bus and my cavalier. I was shaking when my mom showed up. She jumped out of the car, ran up, and gave me a hug. The state trooper had already taken the bus driver’s statement and then asked for me to come to his vehicle.
“I need you to tell me what happened and then write your statement here,” he said as he pointed to the box I was to write my statement in.
“I was on my way out of town on Happy Creek to meet a friend’s mom for his court hearing, as I came around the turn the bus was over the double yellow line and in my lane and before I had time to think about moving we collided.”
“She said you were in her lane.”
“No she was in my lane.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure.”
“Well I am writing you a failure to maintain your side of the highway ticket.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Do you want a reckless driving ticket?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not kidding, I’m writing you a lower ticket, if you want to fight it you can go to court.”
“Ok.” I decided very quickly it would be better not to argue with the cop. Then I quickly started to panic again. My dad was going to have my ass. There was no question about it. This was my first day of thanksgiving break my freshman year of college; I was nowhere near being an adult in my father’s eyes. My mom was trying to figure out how to get around telling my dad, which I knew was never going to work, but that was always her solution; don’t tell him and he won’t know. My dad was intelligent and I knew he would find my car one way or another. Billy kept saying that my dad was not going to freak out, I didn’t believe him. Finally I had to call my dad, because my car had to be towed somewhere and it would be cheaper to just take it home. Once Billy’s boss caught wind of this tow my dad was going to be called, after all he drank coffee at that tow shop every morning before work. I finally dialed my dad’s cell.
“Dutch?”
“Hey Papa.”
“Thanks for walking the dogs this morning, did you make it to the hearing yet?”
“No I never made it to meet his mom.”
“What happened?”
“I got in an accident on Happy Creek.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yea, Mama’s here and Billy is towing it, where should he tow it to.”
“How bad is it?”
“It won’t move.”
“Yea just have him tow it here. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“I think so.”
“Ok. Accidents happen Dutch, it will be ok. I love you.”
I about dropped my phone. I quickly collected myself and replied, “I love you too.”
I couldn’t believe it. My dad was never understanding when I got in an accident. My mom always was, but she was the parent I got my accident prone tendencies from. Every accident my mother had been in while I was growing up I distinctly remember my dad’s horrible attitude and his “you should have been able to avoid this” comments. I had been in a few fender benders in the two years I had been driving and every time my dad flipped out on me. I had no idea how this one was different, but something had changed in my dad and that was more apparent than ever that day.
I later found out that Billy had talked to my dad and had told him that he needed to be a little more understanding with me, because every time he flipped out I freaked out. I felt horrible about the accident especially because there were three kids on the bus, I really didn’t need any more grief than I was already giving myself. My dad finally understood that. Ever since then my dad and I have become closer. Before I thought he was just mean and cranky all the time, and because my mom always tried to hide things that would get him upset, I had learned to fear him. That day that fear was replaced by an understanding that has since grown.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Michael-New Version
As I sat there, across from this woman I had just met, I looked down at the papers she had handed me. It was a birth certificate but it may as well have been a blank piece of paper. All it had was an unknown name, an unknown father, the time of birth, that the baby was a boy and that the mother was the woman sitting across from me, Jeanine Bestoso. As I took it all in I looked out the window as the storm clouds rolled in and the wind picked up. This was a much different scene then the one that had begun this day.
It was a beautiful brisk New England spring morning. My cousin, Susan, and I had gone for a drive. I had always liked to drive and it was a beautiful day for driving. The sun shone down on our faces, warming the car delicately. The wind began to pick up as we headed for the coast. Within forty-five minutes we had made it from the Connecticut/Rhode Island border to the Newport Bridge. The wind picked up as we began to drive over the bridge, the waves crashed against the rocks on the shore of Narragansett Bay. We could hear the lapping water and the cry of the seagulls. I could smell the ocean in the misty spray while we crossed the bridge. We soon came to the other side where the Newport Bridge Toll was located, I handed the toll taker a Bridge Token, and he responded, “Ma’am we no longer accept Bridge Tokens, sorry for the inconvenience. It will be four dollars to pass.”
“What? Why?” I asked in confusion. I looked over at Susan and could see that she was just as lost as I was. I had collected these tokens for years; they always symbolized a trip to the beach while I was growing up. My dad had always let me hand the toll taker the tokens. This was an abrupt change I was not expecting.
“The state switched us over to strictly cash, I’m sorry Ma’am.” He responded.
“It’s not your fault, Sir, but I don’t agree with the changes.” As I drove away from the toll, thoughts began flowing through my mind. This is so different. I’m not sure if I can keep going. Will I even be able to find her? Will she even talk to me if I do find her? I hope I find information about Michael. After being an only child all my life, always wanting siblings, I finally find out I have an older brother, now it’s just a matter of finding him. The thoughts that were rolling around in my mind were not helping the panic building inside me.
Susan finally broke the silence. “We are going to get you answers, hun. Today is going to be a good day; I have a good feeling about it.”
“I hope so, I really really hope so.”
“Take your time, we have all day, and I wanted to see the ocean today anyways.”
“Thanks, Susan.” I knew this trip was different; it was not all for fun. I had my actions set in my mind. For fear that I might back away from my itinerary; I had brought Susan, who I knew would not let me leave without completing the tasks at hand. I had to I saw the sign for the Ocean Drive and turned abruptly. This is where I always felt safe, driving down the coast and losing my thoughts in the vast ocean.
After driving around for about an hour, Susan and I headed toward downtown Newport. I found Ocean Coffee Roasters, a small coffee shop, in Washington Square. I decided this would be as good a time as any to pull over and start the mission I came to accomplish. Susan and I parked, and walked into the coffee shop. Susan went to a table and I went to the register. “Hello ma’am how can I help you today?” the Barista asked.
“Can I get two small coffees and would you happen to have a phonebook I could borrow?” I asked.
She quickly bent under the counter and started moving things around. She reappeared quickly, “Here is the phone book, and I will bring your coffee out to you as soon as it’s up.”
“Thank you ma’am,” I said, as I turned and headed toward Susan. I sat down and began thinking again. What am I doing? This is never going to work. Things are never this easy. I should just leave this alone and go back home. “Susan, I don’t know if I can do this. This isn’t a good idea.”
“Marissa, you know you have to take this step to get closer to finding your brother.”
“I don’t even know how things ended between her and my dad though, I mean it could have been bad and she may want nothing to do with any of this. I have never met her and she has no idea I exist, and I’m supposed to just call her?” My dad is not big on details, and the only thing I knew was that I had an older brother out there and his mother’s name was Jeanine Bestoso.
“I know you can do this hun, what’s the worst that she can do? Hang up on you? It won’t be that bad. I promise.”
“Ok,” I took a deep breath. She was right, I had to do this. I began flipping through the phone book, looking for Bestoso, I found two. I decided to call the first that was listed. I wrote down the number on a napkin and looked up at Susan.
“You can do this, Marissa. Just try it.”
“Ok,” I began to dial the number and before I could delete it I pressed the talk button on my phone.
The phone rang three times and a woman answered, “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Jeanine Bestoso?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi, My name is Marissa Sullivan, you don’t know me, but I was wondering if you remembered a Cornelius Sullivan?” This part was tense. She would either hang up or say yes. My chance might be gone. This was not something I was used to doing, talking to strangers on the phone; I wouldn’t even do this at work I always asked co-workers to cover the phones for me.
“Yea, I remember Connie!” She was surprised and upbeat about the question. This was amazing. She hadn’t hung up on me.
“Well, I’m his daughter, and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Michael, if you don’t mind.” I asked.
“You mean your brother.” She stated.
“Yea.”
“Where are you Marissa? I can explain things better in person.” She asked me.
“I’m actually in Newport right now. I’m up visiting family from Virginia.”
“Really, where are you in Newport?”
“I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Washington Square. I think it’s Ocean Coffee Roasters.”
“Ok, well, if you give me fifteen minutes and I can meet you there. How will I be able to recognize you?”
Ummmm, I had to think a second. “I am the female version of my dad with red hair, and I’m wearing a green sweater.”
“Ok, I will be over shortly.”
“I’ll be here, see you soon.” With that we hung up. Susan was smiling as I set my phone on the table.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore, “See that wasn’t so bad! Is she really coming here?”
“Yea, I can’t believe that went so well, she will be here in about fifteen minutes.” I still couldn’t believe the conversation I had just had. She hadn’t hung up. She wants to meet me. This is really happening. I was completely antsy for the next fifteen minutes, bouncing my leg, tapping my fingers on the table, and picking up my phone and looking at it.
When she walked in the door I looked up, as I had done every time the door opened since I had hung up with her. When I looked up and caught her eyes, she smiled and walked to the table.
“Marissa?” I nodded. “It’s wonderful to meet you dear. You were not lying you do look just like your father, at least from what I remember of him.” As she said this she laughed lightly.
She sat down and leaned back in the chair. “So what can I answer for you?” she asked me.
“Anything you are willing to share, honestly. My dad told me about Michael when I was eighteen, and hasn’t been able to give me much information to go on. I want to try find him.” I responded.
“It was a very long time ago; I don’t know how much detail I’ll be able to give you but I’ll try.” She said comfortably.
She began telling me the story. She was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant. Her family was Catholic and she was the youngest daughter. Her father sent her to California to live with an older sister while she was pregnant, so family friends wouldn’t find out about it. She gave birth on August 15, 1970. It was a premature birth. She was told she couldn’t hold her son and refused to accept that. She held him in her arms, looked down, and said “You are my Michael.” She didn’t want to give him up, but was forced to. She agreed to let him go to a certain family, and when he was premature, he was taken to a foster home against her wishes. She had tried to find him once in the early 90’s, she and her three children were all very interested in finding Michael. This was all good news.
As the big rain drops began battering the windows, I realized that today I had come a great distance in my search for the brother I had not known, but as far as I had come was nowhere near as far as I was going to have to go. Yes I had meet my half brother’s mother Jeanine Bestoso, and now I knew where he was born, at what time, and on what day; but there were many other unanswered questions. We still did not know who had adopted him and where. I was one step closer, but still what seemed like a million miles away from the end of this journey that I had begun.
It was a beautiful brisk New England spring morning. My cousin, Susan, and I had gone for a drive. I had always liked to drive and it was a beautiful day for driving. The sun shone down on our faces, warming the car delicately. The wind began to pick up as we headed for the coast. Within forty-five minutes we had made it from the Connecticut/Rhode Island border to the Newport Bridge. The wind picked up as we began to drive over the bridge, the waves crashed against the rocks on the shore of Narragansett Bay. We could hear the lapping water and the cry of the seagulls. I could smell the ocean in the misty spray while we crossed the bridge. We soon came to the other side where the Newport Bridge Toll was located, I handed the toll taker a Bridge Token, and he responded, “Ma’am we no longer accept Bridge Tokens, sorry for the inconvenience. It will be four dollars to pass.”
“What? Why?” I asked in confusion. I looked over at Susan and could see that she was just as lost as I was. I had collected these tokens for years; they always symbolized a trip to the beach while I was growing up. My dad had always let me hand the toll taker the tokens. This was an abrupt change I was not expecting.
“The state switched us over to strictly cash, I’m sorry Ma’am.” He responded.
“It’s not your fault, Sir, but I don’t agree with the changes.” As I drove away from the toll, thoughts began flowing through my mind. This is so different. I’m not sure if I can keep going. Will I even be able to find her? Will she even talk to me if I do find her? I hope I find information about Michael. After being an only child all my life, always wanting siblings, I finally find out I have an older brother, now it’s just a matter of finding him. The thoughts that were rolling around in my mind were not helping the panic building inside me.
Susan finally broke the silence. “We are going to get you answers, hun. Today is going to be a good day; I have a good feeling about it.”
“I hope so, I really really hope so.”
“Take your time, we have all day, and I wanted to see the ocean today anyways.”
“Thanks, Susan.” I knew this trip was different; it was not all for fun. I had my actions set in my mind. For fear that I might back away from my itinerary; I had brought Susan, who I knew would not let me leave without completing the tasks at hand. I had to I saw the sign for the Ocean Drive and turned abruptly. This is where I always felt safe, driving down the coast and losing my thoughts in the vast ocean.
After driving around for about an hour, Susan and I headed toward downtown Newport. I found Ocean Coffee Roasters, a small coffee shop, in Washington Square. I decided this would be as good a time as any to pull over and start the mission I came to accomplish. Susan and I parked, and walked into the coffee shop. Susan went to a table and I went to the register. “Hello ma’am how can I help you today?” the Barista asked.
“Can I get two small coffees and would you happen to have a phonebook I could borrow?” I asked.
She quickly bent under the counter and started moving things around. She reappeared quickly, “Here is the phone book, and I will bring your coffee out to you as soon as it’s up.”
“Thank you ma’am,” I said, as I turned and headed toward Susan. I sat down and began thinking again. What am I doing? This is never going to work. Things are never this easy. I should just leave this alone and go back home. “Susan, I don’t know if I can do this. This isn’t a good idea.”
“Marissa, you know you have to take this step to get closer to finding your brother.”
“I don’t even know how things ended between her and my dad though, I mean it could have been bad and she may want nothing to do with any of this. I have never met her and she has no idea I exist, and I’m supposed to just call her?” My dad is not big on details, and the only thing I knew was that I had an older brother out there and his mother’s name was Jeanine Bestoso.
“I know you can do this hun, what’s the worst that she can do? Hang up on you? It won’t be that bad. I promise.”
“Ok,” I took a deep breath. She was right, I had to do this. I began flipping through the phone book, looking for Bestoso, I found two. I decided to call the first that was listed. I wrote down the number on a napkin and looked up at Susan.
“You can do this, Marissa. Just try it.”
“Ok,” I began to dial the number and before I could delete it I pressed the talk button on my phone.
The phone rang three times and a woman answered, “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Jeanine Bestoso?”
“Yes, this is she.”
“Hi, My name is Marissa Sullivan, you don’t know me, but I was wondering if you remembered a Cornelius Sullivan?” This part was tense. She would either hang up or say yes. My chance might be gone. This was not something I was used to doing, talking to strangers on the phone; I wouldn’t even do this at work I always asked co-workers to cover the phones for me.
“Yea, I remember Connie!” She was surprised and upbeat about the question. This was amazing. She hadn’t hung up on me.
“Well, I’m his daughter, and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Michael, if you don’t mind.” I asked.
“You mean your brother.” She stated.
“Yea.”
“Where are you Marissa? I can explain things better in person.” She asked me.
“I’m actually in Newport right now. I’m up visiting family from Virginia.”
“Really, where are you in Newport?”
“I’m sitting at a coffee shop in Washington Square. I think it’s Ocean Coffee Roasters.”
“Ok, well, if you give me fifteen minutes and I can meet you there. How will I be able to recognize you?”
Ummmm, I had to think a second. “I am the female version of my dad with red hair, and I’m wearing a green sweater.”
“Ok, I will be over shortly.”
“I’ll be here, see you soon.” With that we hung up. Susan was smiling as I set my phone on the table.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore, “See that wasn’t so bad! Is she really coming here?”
“Yea, I can’t believe that went so well, she will be here in about fifteen minutes.” I still couldn’t believe the conversation I had just had. She hadn’t hung up. She wants to meet me. This is really happening. I was completely antsy for the next fifteen minutes, bouncing my leg, tapping my fingers on the table, and picking up my phone and looking at it.
When she walked in the door I looked up, as I had done every time the door opened since I had hung up with her. When I looked up and caught her eyes, she smiled and walked to the table.
“Marissa?” I nodded. “It’s wonderful to meet you dear. You were not lying you do look just like your father, at least from what I remember of him.” As she said this she laughed lightly.
She sat down and leaned back in the chair. “So what can I answer for you?” she asked me.
“Anything you are willing to share, honestly. My dad told me about Michael when I was eighteen, and hasn’t been able to give me much information to go on. I want to try find him.” I responded.
“It was a very long time ago; I don’t know how much detail I’ll be able to give you but I’ll try.” She said comfortably.
She began telling me the story. She was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant. Her family was Catholic and she was the youngest daughter. Her father sent her to California to live with an older sister while she was pregnant, so family friends wouldn’t find out about it. She gave birth on August 15, 1970. It was a premature birth. She was told she couldn’t hold her son and refused to accept that. She held him in her arms, looked down, and said “You are my Michael.” She didn’t want to give him up, but was forced to. She agreed to let him go to a certain family, and when he was premature, he was taken to a foster home against her wishes. She had tried to find him once in the early 90’s, she and her three children were all very interested in finding Michael. This was all good news.
As the big rain drops began battering the windows, I realized that today I had come a great distance in my search for the brother I had not known, but as far as I had come was nowhere near as far as I was going to have to go. Yes I had meet my half brother’s mother Jeanine Bestoso, and now I knew where he was born, at what time, and on what day; but there were many other unanswered questions. We still did not know who had adopted him and where. I was one step closer, but still what seemed like a million miles away from the end of this journey that I had begun.
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