Sliding Doors

“How the hell did you find me?” was all she heard on the other end of the telephone line.  Sarah frantically scanned her memory for an appropriate response.  She could hang up.  No, that would go against what she was compelled to do and she knows now, that she could never go back to not knowing.  She had already plunged deep into the waters with both feet, and the knowledge she gained up until this point had already altered her life.  Silently, Sarah looked around the room and across her apartment.  She lived near the school she attended in a typical apartment for an 18-year old college student.  Sarah was engulfed in solitude but she was happy.  As she looked around, Sarah could not help but wonder what her life would have been like had things been different.  Would the fear of abandonment be at every turn like it was now?  Would she have struggled like she did if the sliding door of decisions slid slightly too late for the woman on the other end of the line?

The woman’s seven word sentence response to Sarah's brief introductory greeting could not deter Sarah.  It was simply a sentence that was no longer an emotional obstacle in Sarah’s quest.  With a deep anxious breath, Sarah inhaled, swallowed hard, and began the standard script that she had mirrored so many other times.  I joined an organization with other people like me that helped me, Sarah had said.  Before Sarah could finish her thought, she felt a knife slice her words in half.  “Oh, yeah, I know about that group”, the woman abruptly said, “What I want to know is WHY you found me?” 

Silent screams momentarily replaced Sarah’s voice.  The screams were deafening and she was frozen in her place, the pendulum of her heartbeat lost its momentum.  Another deep breath.  Sarah began again, “I have thought about this moment for some time now and have envisioned what our conversation would be like.  I never got over…”, again Sarah was startled by a second interruption, this time more sharp than the last with a straight-edged steel knife stabbing a hole in her throat. 

“Got over WHAT?!?!”, screamed the stranger.   

Brave and fearful combined, Sarah continued, “The curiosity – I never fully got over the curiosity.” 

Much to Sarah’s surprise, the woman’s tone seemed to soften.  Bitterness had been replaced with sugar.  Unexpectedly the woman said, “Curiosity, huh?  Well, I’ve been curious myself over the years.  Did you have a good childhood?” 

“Yes I did,” Sarah replied, “a very good childhood”. 

“Where did you grow up?”, the woman asked. 

“In a small town outside of Yosemite in the Sierra Nevada’s.  It was a beautiful place to grow up”, Sarah replied with a sense of hopefulness, “I want you to know that I don’t blame you…”  With a Katana to the heart, the woman finally quieted Sarah for the last time. 

“Blame me?  You shouldn’t blame me!” the woman seethed and shouted “It’s not like I left you on a door step with a note!  In fact, I did you a favor.  You know what I did for you?  I let you live, that’s what I did.  I could have killed you, but I didn’t!  I let you live! You are to never contact me again and if you choose to ignore my warning in any way shape or form, I will bring you down.  I will bring you down so help me God!  I let you live, now you let me live!  Do I make myself clear?!”

For the second time in one conversation, Sarah was speechless.  The visions of an ideal reunion were halted and the familial image would be nothing more than a painted flower in a painted garden.  In one split-second eye-awakening realization, Sarah knew that she was who she was because of this stranger’s voice and she was instantly grateful for this woman’s decision all those years ago.  Sarah sighed “Yes, ma’am, you do.  Thank you for your time.  Good-bye”.  Sarah hung up the phone. 

Despite her obvious disappointment, Sarah understood this bitter woman.  Putting science aside, genetics and the like, Sarah’s personality had been created by this woman.  This stranger, and that’s what she was to her, knew nothing about Sarah, who she was, or the fears and dreams that exist in her soul.  After the fateful conversation, Sarah pitied this woman; both her haunted demons and sour circumstances.  Sarah was saddened for the woman who gave her life. 

Sarah came into her mother’s life when she was just two months old.  Her mother had only been six months older than the woman on the phone had been eighteen years earlier.  In all of its worldly wisdom, the government had taken a child from a child and gave it to a child.  But, because of the faith, hope, and love of one of those children, Sarah went from being an orphan to a daughter, a granddaughter, a niece, and a sister.  For the first time in Sarah’s life, she was wholeheartedly aware of her identity and where she belonged.  Sarah collected herself, gathered her thoughts, picked up the phone, and called her mother.