When I was about 4 1/2 years old, there were 5 kids in our family, I was smack dab in the middle. The baby was Heidi. Something was wrong with her, but it wasnt really talked about, at least not to the rest of us kids. There was discussion in hushed tones among the adults, but not to us. Then, one day, we gave Heidi away. Of course, in retrospect, this ended up being the very best thing for her, but in my young mind, I couldn't comprehend it. Why??How could we do that? Was I next? Was something wrong with me too, just no one had told me yet? Would she be OK? Could we visit her? Was she still my sister? It was very confusing. We did visit Heidi a few times, and then we moved away. We lived in Seattle at the time, and over the course of the next several years, would move time and time again to various states, living with mom, then dad, sometimes both of them, sometimes a relative or friend. My mothers world unraveled further and further and my dad just tried hard to do damage control for her. For the first few years, we got a letter or two and a photo here and there from Heidi's foster mother, but then, we just didn't anymore. Or maybe my mom stopped telling them where we were. We never talked about it. Suddenly, we would say there were only 4 kids in our family. The last I remember even hearing Heidi's name spoken was when I was about 9 or 10, and then my mom had another baby.
Of course, that is only the view from a little girls mind. In reality, Heidi did have 'something wrong' with her. In those days, the term used was 'mentally retarded', although I believe it is referred to more gently these days as developmentally delayed. Apparently she was a very, very difficult baby to care for, and being my mom was not a very stable person, and had 4 other small children to attend to, it was recommended to my parents that they give her over to Foster care as a ward of the state of Washington. I know now that my parents really struggled with that decision, but went along with it, as they were told she would never speak, probably never walk, would never get beyond the capacity of a 2 year old, and would probably not live very long. It was simply what was done in those days. It ended up being such a blessing for Heidi, as she could not have withstood and thrived in the environment that my mom provided over the next several years. Suffering from drug addiction, alcoholism, and various forms of mental illness, mom continued to wreak havoc on the lives of all around her right up until a few years ago, when a lifetime of hard living caught up with her and sadly now she is in a nursing home. Truth be told, I believe what Heidi has, is Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.
Fast forward to when I was 26, happily married, and pregnant with baby #3. I was seeing a doctor I had never seen before, and as part of the 'family history' on the forms, one of the questions is whether or not anyone in the family had Down's Syndrome. Well, I didn't know. I called my parents, and asked them if that is what Heidi had, as I needed to know. They weren't sure, and were not comfortable discussing it. I decided to try to see if I could track down information about her condition. It was surprisingly easy actually. This was before I ever had a computer, so it was several hours of phone calls, but still, eventually, I was able to track down that she was alive, had lived most of her life with one foster mother, and now was with a second one. She still lived in Washington, and they confirmed that she did not have Down's Syndrome. I was able to speak with her Social Services case worker, who actually even had spent time with Heidi. I couldn't believe my ears when she told me that although Heidi was indeed severely 'retarded' she was well, had a job, was happy, and *gulp* knew she had a family out there. That about ripped my heart in half, and then her case worker asked if I wanted Heidi's phone number. What??? I could talk to her???? She could talk back??? This was a lot to process. What would I say? "I'm sorry it took me so long"??? I took the number and let my emotions settle for a few days, and then I got the courage to call. I spoke with her Foster Mother, who seemed very nice. She warned me that although Heidi could talk to me, she is very hard to understand, but she did put Heidi on the phone. I spoke with her for just a few minutes, and when I got off the phone, cried and cried. I had really talked to my sister!
Over the next two years I sent her letters, and pictures, and called from time to time. Blessedly, Heidi's mind does not have any concept of time at all. She just knew she had another family in addition to the one that raised her. She had no idea it had been so many years, or even what a year was. I decided I wanted to see her, so my husband and I flew out to Seattle and met with her. I was really nervous. What would I say? What would she look like? Would I be embarrassed to take her out in public to the zoo like we had arranged? I was ashamed of myself for having these feelings, but it turned out they weren't needed. We embraced, and she was so excited to have her sister there! Truth be told, I'm not sure if she was as excited that I was there, as she was about being able to be the one among her peers there that had a 'special visitor' that day. Sort of like show and tell day at school. We took her to the zoo, and went to feed some ducks. She is so delightful. She is funny, and inquistive, and mischievous. She has a very happy disposition, and just wants to please everyone. She is very nurturing, and carries a baby doll with her where ever she goes, and speaks to it, as though she is mothering it. One of the ways Heidi processes things, is thru smell, and if she sees a baby in a stroller, she will put her face in the stroller and smell the baby. Could be scary for the parent of that baby, but we found most people were very accepting of it, as Heidi's demeanor is so gentle. She is a very petite, delicate lady, with very soft, fair skin. Her face, however, is not arranged quite right, and neither is her body. She has a horrible limp, cannot see or speak very well, but she is HAPPY.
That was many years ago. I continue to write her, send her pictures, and presents, and call. Every couple of years I go out and visit with her. Twice now, my oldest sister has come with me, including the most recent trip this past fall. On this trip however, we had to track her down, because when we arrived, we found out her foster home had been closed suddenly, with no forwarding information given. When we found her, she was living in a new foster home, and they had been told Heidi had no family. The county suddenly had no record of us. It was frightening to think about what a vulnerable adult Heidi is, but I raised some hell and have petitioned to be involved. So far they have granted me the label 'interested party'.
No one else besides my older sister and I have met her yet though, and I am going to bring her here this summer, and have a 'party' for her. She is soooo excited, like a little girl! She can't fly alone or unsupervised, so I am going to fly out, get her and fly back, have her spend the weekend, which is all she will be able to handle, and then fly with her back to Seattle. My dad and the rest of my siblings want to meet her too. My mom is still wracked with guilt over it, and says she just can't see her, even though we have assured her that Heidi had the best possible situation, and that the decision they made about Heidi was a huge gift to her. Heidi is AWESOME and thriving!
Comments (1)
Wow, i missed this blog. What a story. how heartwrenching. I can well imagine how you felt when you were goign to call her. In light of what ou reveal here, it sounds lie you had a very difficult upbringing, Robyn. I'm so sorry. How difficlt it msut have been. I know your mom was not easy from what else I've read. Certainly your llife must be so much better adn your sister's too. I'm jsut so glad you contacted her before she moved homes adn then you migt have lost contact with here for good. How tragic that would have been. I can' imagine what strain that must have been on your Dad too.