10 years post

Its hard to believe that it has been 10 years since we first met. Sometimes people say "its feels like just yesterday" For me it feels like a lifetime. It seams like so long ago that I walked out of the airport into the arms of my father and sister. I don't think thats a bad thing either. I have so many good memories since then that I can hardly believe it was only ten years ago.

People sometimes ask "where do you see your self in ten years? Well I can tell you that 10 years ago I would have never guessed this. I would have never guess I would be sitting in panama in front of the Christmas tree. I never would have guess I would be working with my dad and cousin. I never would have guessed I would have such wonderful brothers and sisters to spend the holidays with. I never would have guessed that my mother would be writing about my story or that people would want to hear me talk about it.

I'm trying to come up with something else meaningful to say about everything that happened and I can't. I really wanted to writing something about how incredible these past years have been and how they have effected my life. I also wanted to talk about what a great family I have both here and in America. Maybe its just too hard to sum up 10 years of memories in a couple paragraphs. I'm at a loss for words. Perhaps I shouldn't even try and just enjoy being here with my family.

All I can say for sure is that I am so lucky to have found these incredible people and to be a part of their lives. I know they feel the same way. I love all of you and you all mean so much to me. Happy 10 years.

Derek's First Post

Okay, so Nelson/Roberto has been getting on my case to actually contribute here. I promised I would in January, but then I got into my last semester of college and things were crazy and hectic. But I digress. For those who don't know me, my name is Derek, and I am Nelson's brother. My biological parents are his adoptive parents. I was born on May 30, 1985, two years to the day after my parents took him from the orphanage in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

For this post I'll deal with the beginning, at least the beginning for me. Obviously I knew from early on that Nelson was 'different' and my parents explained to him and I as best they could about who he was and what they knew, which wasn't much. At that age, it doesn't really matter. Family is family. Nelson was and is my brother in every meaning of the word. He has always looked out for me and I knew that he cared. We were very close, even though he was four years older than me.

My brother has already written about the night when he found out that he had family looking for him, so I won't repeat the basic events. I don't remember any other time, before or since, that my parents sounded so serious when they mentioned that they needed to talk with us after dinner. Right now I'm sitting no more than thirty feet from where I was that night, and I can still remember the look on my their faces and on my brother's. Obviously, when you hear those words as a kid, you think about divorce and my parents were quick to explain that that was not the reason for this talk. In hindsight, Nelson is right to say that it didn't make sense, but as I will reiterate later, the first thoughts of a 12 year-old on anything are not always rational.
As they explained the situation, I probably must have turned as white as a sheet, which is impressive for me considering my normal pallor. My first thought was that now that Nelson's real family had found him, they would want him to live with them and I would never see him again. Looking back, it sounds silly, but I really felt scared for a bit that I would lose my brother forever.

Pretty soon, it will have been ten years since that night and instead of losing a brother, I've gained an entire second family. I can understand the apprehension that somebody might feel in this situation. I experienced a lot of new things and it wasn't always easy, but I'm glad now that it happened. Everyone has been so welcoming, from the very first letters that our parents read to us that night through all of the visits and the other correspondence I have never once felt like an outsider, always like a member of the family. That's enough for now, I'll relate some of my other thoughts later.

Being Adopted - By Nelson/Roberto

I think adoption is one of the most wonderful and at the same time one of the most difficult things I have experienced in my life. The joy of adoption can best be described by the quote that begins this blog.

Losing ones family obliges us to find ones family. Not always the family that is our blood but the family that can become our blood.

However, no matter how great my adoptive parents have been, growing up as an adopted child was not always easy. The most difficult emotion I have ever had to deal with was the uncertainty that came from being adopted. I imagine that most if not all adopted persons go through a similar experience sometime during their life.

Perhaps in my case these feelings might have been harder to deal with. For my parents did not even know birthday never mind how I came to be adopted. Today I could not imagine my life without my adopted family but back then having them was not enough.

There is just something about your birth-mother/birth-father that you can never forget or completely let go of. You want to know what they look like, if you look like them and what kind of people are they. But most importantly you want to know: Why was I given up?

To this question there is no easy answer. It is something that I struggled with and watched my friends struggle with. Some were more vocal than others but you just knew even the quiet ones were thinking about it too. You wonder how can the people who gave you life simply give you away? Well I'm sure it's never that easy and I'm sure they never forget either.

I used to sit at night staring out of my window wishing I could just see my my mother. I thought if I could just see her, she would make everything better. These feelings never went away, no matter how hard I tried to fight or ignore them. But that all changed when I met my birth family.

Being reunited with them was incredible to say the least. I went from not knowing my birthday to having three new siblings and a huge family that had been looking for me all along. It seamed to answer all my questions about who I was and if I looked like my parents (I'm practically a carbon copy of my father.)

However I feel like I am very lucky in this respect. I have herd a few stories of people who went looking for their birth parents only to find they had nothing in common and could not relate to each other. I wish I could say "Don't worry one day you will find your birth parent too and everything will be alright" but I know that's not always the case. Not every adoption story has such a happy ending.

In the end I wonder how much finding your birth parents really matters. Yes finding them did answer a lot of my questions and it did take away the awful feeling of uncertainty but I don't think that's what mattered most. I think what mattered the most was the family that we have became.

I hardly think of it as my adopted family and my birth family anymore. When people say "oh you found your real parents" I say no I found my birth parents. I don't even like to make the distinction between them. I just like to think I have two sets of parents and one BIG family.

Family is more than just being related because sometimes even our own blood doesn't treat us as they should. Family is about caring for people and loving them unconditionally. Family is what we found in them and what they found in us.

Not always the family that is is our blood but the family that can become our blood...


Christmas 1997

Christmas 2006

The meaning of family - by Eva

It was late at night. It seemed that every Christmas flight was delayed on this day. It was the longest waiting I’ve ever had. We didn’t talk too much, we were just there waiting. Time passed and we just looked at each other trying to guess what was going on through each other's mind.

Suddenly a bunch of people come to the exit door and there he comes … Oh my God! That’s him, that’s Roberto! We don’t need any DNA test in our hands to know its him, he is an exact copy of my father standing there! We didn’t know what to do but go over him and hug him. All of us wanted to hug him and touch him, maybe to see if it was truly happening… I remember my grandma’s face, she wanted to cry but she was trying so hard not to.

After all the hugs and kisses, I looked back and they were there. It was his family. It is his father, his mother and little brother. There were like the definition of family. They were there right behind him supporting him but so stumped. I don’t know what would they were thinking at that moment. I can’t imagine the overwhelming feeling they could have been experiencing then but they were so brave. They just were standing there and letting him to reunite with his family and I mean, they are his family… I believe they may be thinking: “we are going to lose him!”

What a difficult decision to make: keep him with them by not saying a word about his family, or let him to get together with his family with the risk to lose him. Myself I don’t know what I would do being in their place.

Today I wonder: How is that you can become family to people you’ve never met? How is that you can also love these people since the very beginning? How is that you get to know them just to look into their eyes? Would it be because all of this was meant to be? What a perfect plan since everything fits since the beginning even if it didn't look like. God knew how to make it work. He knew the perfect family for him so he would never be alone. God gave him three amazing people that really loved him, cared about him and raised him as the wonderful guy he is. We love them just knowing they took care of him as their own, but then we got to know how wonderful people they are!

I've met them 9 years ago, and I heard Tom says once: "... we met 9 years ago, and it seems like we have met you for the whole life..." and now I think those words are so true... Those words meant a lot to me, because he was kind of saying what he feels about us. Margaret said at the Church back in New Hampshire she was glad to have their daughter (me) and her daughter (Dani) at home for Christmas. Derek also said something like: She is our sister, she is visiting! Today I am glad I had them as well. I've never felt so supported and never felt someone who is not my own blood takes care of me so much like they all do. They give me support, they give me confidence, they give me advise and they give me love. All of this on top of the material things. Love is what I truly appreciate and keep in my heart.

I guess I'll always keep saying to them THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU... They must be tired of hearing it but there are no other words to express what I feel about them and about the love they have to my brother who needed them so much, and for us that just appeared one day looking for our boy. Today I gotta say how beautiful people you are!

I've never imagined the possibility to "post" ones feelings anywhere, and now that is what I am doing. This post is so personal and it shows my perception and the meaning of the word FAMILY to me, "not always the family that is our blood but the family that can BECOME your blood"

Introduction

“Losing ones family obliges us to find our family. Not always the family that is our blood but the family that can become our blood”
Sean Connery – Finding Forester

The other day I saw the movie Freedom Writes. Its a story inspired by the real lives of long beach teenagers during the early 90's. The film was really good and it made me think about my own family and our story. In the movie the students kept diaries so that their could write about their life experiences. This made me want to write down some of my own experiences.

For those who aren't to familiar with the story. My parents were both revolutionaries in the civil war in El Salvador. They both were fairly important in the group that they fought with. During the war I was separated from my family and adopted to the US. 15 years later I was reunited with my birth family thanks to efforts of my grandmother. That was in 1997, since that time we have become a big family. I frequently visit my family in central America and they have come to the US on several occasions to visit me as well.

I'm writing this blog with the help of my siblings to tell our story. We want to write our thoughts and feelings about the things we went trough. We also want to help my mother as she writes a book detailing the events that brought us all together. We have been through so much over the years and we are so lucky to have found each other.

This year marks an important year for our family and our story. It was 25 years ago that I was separated from my birth family and this Christmas it will be 10 years since we were reunited. A lot has happened during that time and it has not always been easy but now we can look back and reflect on these incredible events.

My birth mothers name was Ana Milagro Escobar. Milagro is miracle in English and is the inspiration for the name of this blog. This is our story, this is Ana's Miracle...

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