In light of my recent adventure, I feel compelled to point out that the story in this reading is fiction. It’s not based on any of the stories I told myself about my birth parents as I was growing up, or as a young woman, or even recently. The story is from a writing prompt, and I allowed myself to be silly. Sillier than usual, that is.

But wait, what recent adventure? you ask. Oh, friends. Big adventure.

I shall have more to say about it later. For now, let me say simply: I met my family. My birth family. My biological family. The people whose genes I share, the people I look like, walk like, laugh like, and am like in some very important ways.

The additional footage in this reading is all of Lake Michigan, but it’s from both the east and west shores. From Sheboygan, Wisconsin, where I spent some time with my sister on my father’s side, and with my amazing nieces and even grand-nieces, and with my brother-in-law. These are some strong women, and artistic, and kind, and my sister is possibly worse than I am about making a beeline across a parking lot or beach to pet a dog.

There are also scenes from Escanaba and Manistique in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. We drove north from Sheboygan, through the bottom of the U.P., over the Mackinac Bridge, and into Up North Michigan to meet for the first time my siblings on my mother’s side, and to visit with a cousin on that side I’d met previously.

So much talking and laughing! So many stories! And questions, some of which even were answered—on all sides. I met two brothers and two sisters, and have one brother yet to meet.

I’m still processing it all. But I do know I am blessed. Adoption stories are complicated, and emotional, and often involve secrecy and mystery and half-truths. The investigation is an emotional rollercoaster. In my case, it’s truly a blessing. I’m grateful.

So for now, please enjoy this story. It first appeared in Third Point Press, and was anthologized in Best Microfiction 2020.