My very first video interview with my older sister Eva.
Tag Archives: Family
Memories – by Nelson/Roberto
I’m running as fast as I can. I stop short at the gate fence. In a few quick moves, I jump up, grab the top, swing my legs over and jump down on the other side. I keep running only to be greeted buy the dog. Before he can get near me I duck into the door way to my left. Jumping over some paint cans I turn sharply to the right and hid behind some boxes. I’m out of breath but I try not to make a sound.
I stay here for a minuet. I don’t hear anything. Slowly I creep back into the hall way and look around. Poking my head into the next room Ernesto looks up at me and laughs.
“What are you doing?”
“Shhh..she’ll hear me” As soon as I say it I hear screaming coming from the next room.
I turn to run again but the stupid dog followed me into the room and is in my way. Great no where to go. I turn, knowing whats coming next.
“I GOT YOU!!” My little sister screams as she grabs my shirt. I try to loosen her grip and tell her she is stretching the shirt. No good. Shes got me and she is NOT letting go.
Giving I pick her up in my arms and we head back to the house to get something to drink.
I often think back to those days when she was a little kid and we would run around the house chasing each other. It was so much fun. I have so many memories.
There is a gate outside of my father’s house in panama. The entrance had a nice little ledge just big enough for someone to sit. I use to picker up on my shoulder and put her on the ledge when she was being “bad.” She would laugh trying to figure out how to get down.
Then there was the time I broke her bed. I picked up and pretending to be a wrestler dropped her on the bed. It completely fell apart. She was fine but started to cry when she saw her bed in pieces. We were able to fix it right up and minuets later she was grabbing on to my shirt again like nothing every happened.
I’m so glad that I have been able to be a part of her growing up. She is a lot older now and has become a wonderful young lady. I still remember the little girl who ran up to me that first night at the airport. She will always be my little sister.
Meeting my sister and growing up with her has been one of the best parts of this entire experience. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
I know how much she looks up to me and that is where I get so much of my motivation. Her pictures hangs on my wall and I always look it when I am feeling down.
Many families are spread all over the world and don’t get to see each other as much as they would like. Thats not an option for me. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we’ll always have memories to look back on.
A letter from my father – by Nelson/Roberto
November 1997
Its 6:15 pm and its already dark out. I just got back from school and I’m the first one home. I dash up to my room and drop my bag. I fire up the computer and head back downstairs to get something to drink. As I go to the turn on the outside lights I bend over and pick up the mail. On my way back to the kitchen I start to go through it. Bill, bill, junk mail…but whats this?
Tossing the rest of the mail on the counter I’m starring down at a letter addressed to Roberto Coto form a Luis Coto. Its a letter from my father… When we got the original package from Probusqueda there was only letters from my aunt and grandmother. I take a second to look at it before opening it. Its three pages of neatly written cursive. I frown for a second. It all in Spanish and I can’t read any of it.
I head back up to my room letter in hand. Half an hour later my dad yells from downstairs “I’m home”
“Hi” I reply making my way out into the hall.
“How was your day?” he questions
“I got a letter from my dad.” I say excitedly
My adoptive father would tell me later these words made his heart sink because for 15 years he was the only one I called dad. There is a pause…”What does it say?”
“I’m not sure its all in Spanish”
Over dinner I show my parents the letter. My mom suggests that she could have one of her colleagues translate the letter for us. I tell her that I think some of my friend at school could translate it too.
The next day I stuff the letter in my bag as I head out the door. As I’m ride in on the T I stare at it I try to figure out what it says. All I can make out is “Dear Roberto,” So I just sit there staring out the window. I always sit in the the very first seat on the train. It has a window all to its self and I can get off the train quicker. I’ve made this 15 minuet trip for the past four years but today it seams endless. My leg is shaking in anticipation and everyone getting on the train is taking forever. Finally I arrive at my stop just in time to catch the last van.
I’m running late. Its 8:20am when I arrive and there is no time to find someone to translate. I’ll have to wait until lunch. I’m restless during my classes I pull out the letter every so often to look it over. I briefly show it to my friend Eric. Finally its time for lunch.
“Julia!” I call down the hall
She greats me with a smile, “Hey there”
“I got a letter from my father in Panama” I say pull the letter out of my bad
“Oh wow that’s so cool, what does it say?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t read it and I need to find someone who can translate it.”
“Maria might be able help you. She speaks some Spanish.”
“Really? Hmm I’ll have to ask her”
“She’s over there, Hey I got to run I’ll catch up with you later” She turns and walks off.
“yup, thanks I’ll see you later”
As she’s walking away she calls down the hall “Hey when are we gonna playing soccer?”
I smile “Anytime just let me know” I turn and head towards the lounge where Maria is sitting.
“Hey Maria are you busy?”
Maria look up “Not right now. Why whats up?”
“I got this letter from my dad and I have no idea what it says you think you could help me with it?”
“This is your father in Central America?” she ask examining the letter.
“Yup”
“Yea sure let me look at it”
Finally I’ll be able to find out what in the letter. Its loud in the foyer so we make are way in to the stair case and sit down on the steps going down to athletic office.
She sits and looks at it for a sec. She starts to read it to me but explains that its very hard with the writing and that he using some words she doesn’t know. As she tries to read it I realize that I’m not actually listening to what she is saying. I don’t think its the letter that I’m excited about. I can’t wait to see meet these people and see what they are like. For that I will have to wait, it will be another month before I get to meet them.
Part 1: The adoption, a leap of faith and a miracle reunion. – Nelson/Roberto
I was adopted from an orphanage in Honduras in 1983. My adoptive parents had just started the adoption process and were probably about a year away from getting a child. Then one night they got a phone call around 9:00pm saying that there was a child available for them however there was no picture, no background information and they would have until 3:00pm the next day to decided. I don’t think this ever happens in adoption cases.
Thankfully, after a long night with not much sleep, they decided to adopt. They were living in the Boston area and had to rush to get everything ready before leaving for Honduras. It was the beginning of April and they had to be down in Central America by May. As they were getting ready to leave they found out that they would need FBI clearance in order to travel to Honduras. This normally takes 4 or 5 weeks and they only had one. To their surprise someone pulled some strings for them and Senator Kerry’s office was able to get them clearance in 2 days.
They flew down to Honduras where they were provided with a place to stay and a lawyer to help them with all the paper work. Again, this never happens. As the adoption went on the people involved where very hush hush and wouldn’t tell my parents anything. They mentioned something about a gunfight but wouldn’t say why I was up for adoption or why they were trying to get me out of the country so fast. My adoptive father speculated that I was illegitimate sun of the president or something like that. They did learn that our Mystery Politician was overseeing the adoption and this explained where all the political help was coming from.
They finished the adoption and took be back to the US with them. The judge who oversaw my case required that my father mail her updates every 6 months. My father diligently sent letters for almost 2 years. While talking to another parent about there experience he learned that these updates were not part of the normal adoption process and he promptly stopped. This seamed to the make the whole adoption that much weirder.
I grew up knowing that I was adopted (My parents are white and they always told me I was.) But they couldn’t tell me who my parents were or even when I was born. This was very hard for me growing up since it meant it would be next to impossible to find my birth family. My Adopted father had this newspaper article that someone had gotten for us. The article had a picture of a man who had been killed around the time that I went into the orphanage. As I was growing up he would look at the picture and try to see if there was any resemblance between us.
Then one day the impossible happened. My parents got another phone call at night in the summer of 97. A man called from an organization called Probusqueda that looked for lost children in El Salvador. It turned out I had been born there not Honduras and my birth family had been looking for me for 4 years. My parents told me soon after when I got home from summer camp. It was a huge shock for all of us.
The organization sent us pictures and letters from them written to the lost child Roberto(that’s me.) After a blood test to confirm that hey were indeed my family we started to make arrangements to fly down. In truth they really didn’t need to do the blood test. I look exactly like my birth father and a lot like my older brother.
That Christmas we flew down to meet them the for the first time. My adopted parent were nervous that I would want to stay with my birth family but that never really crossed my mind. Since then I have been down about twice a year to visit them and we have become one big family. Its been truly an amazing and I’m so lucky to have had such wonderful adoptive parents who supported me all these years and when I went to meet my birth family.
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…
The men of my life and the baby girl of my heart – by Eva
There are three men that share my heart, and one beautiful baby girl that has a half.
One of the men is so quiet, nice and caring boy. I remember I loved him and took care of him like a treasure. I still keep in my mind the days we used to walk hanging hands, how small and nice he was. I saw him grow up, becoming an incredible boy. His heart is one of the biggest in the earth, and he’s got a shine that never fades away. Even though his life was hard, he is now a wonderful man, and I gotta say I still love him as the first day I met him, and I am so proud of what he has accomplished though all these years. He’s been so smart at business. He gives his best in every single project. He hasn’t made to many friends, but everyone who knows him loves him as well.
The other men I never saw him grow up, but the day I met him it was a gift from God. Part of my life was returned to me and I feel now I am complete. After missing him for so long he came to me as a wonderful boy. It was incredible to get along as if we spent the whole life together. No one else understands me so well, no one else knows me as he does. He is so smart, so good. If you look into his eyes you can see how much love he has to give, and when he can, he does not hesitate. So friendly, so nice, he is quite a gentlemen. Everybody loves him since he is not selfish and wants to help any time he can. A Wonderful friend, he is loyal, and always cares about others. He’s been always special because God give him a heart that never learned to hate.
The third man is the youngest. He was so small when I met him, so quite and shy, but he couldn’t help it and now he is one of the three men that drives me crazy and owns my heart. He was the perfect company for Roberto for so many years. There are so close and always support to each other. God gave Roberto someone to share childhood, because God knew it is not good to grow up alone. He is crazy about turtles, and no one can tell why is this, but after meeting one of them in person now I understand his fascination about this wonderful animal. Nowadays he is a handsome boy, a lot more talkative now and his quote for me is: “Be adventurous!”
The baby girl that is left keeps the half of my heart. Maybe she does not know what I feel about her, but the day I saw her for the first time I was really happy. I met a cute baby and immediately she opened her arms to me. She couldn’t walk and I remember her first step. She was my baby, I remember changing her pampers and giving her a bath. I remember her mom dressing her like a princess, and a princess she was. She was a really happy child, always hugging and expressing her feelings, her heart is huge and she has a lot of love to share. She is a young lady and the nicest girl I’ve ever met. She is my love, my treasure. She means a lot to me. I wish I could give her more love and time but unfortunately it couldn’t be. Even though I know she loves me and admires me, but what she doesn’t know is that I admire her the most.
And in these few words there they are. Those are my siblings. Each of them are different, but are so a like at the same time. Not every day I can say that but by having them my life is complete. No matter the distance they truly own my heart…