All adoptees, I do believe, at one time or another, have a fantasy regarding their biological family. I was certainly no different. But, instead of dreaming of my biological mother, the globe-trotting anthropologist movie star novelist princess spy, I focused more on my siblings. Namely my big sister. I grew up as an only child and so desperately wanted a big sister. I'm not sure why. I just needed a big sister. Someone to whom I could take my problems and get advice or empathy instead of wedgies. She never had a name or a face. But she was there, on some level, with me at all times.

After nearly ten years of searching I found that I had not one but THREE big sisters. Lesson learned: be careful of what you wish as you may get it.

Becky, three years my senior, was the number one child. Oldest and head of the roster. I was shocked to discover that my birth mother had one child before me and had actually kept her! I assumed, as many of us do, that I was "unexpected" and given away under the guise of shame (rolling eyes and making gagging sounds as I type.) Joyce managed to keep Becky but the same didn't happen with me or my brother, Joey. After our relinquishments, Joyce married and had two more children. Upon discovering that Becky stayed where she was intended to be, my first words to her were, "Mom always liked you best."

She responded, "Well, yea. I was too cute."

In the autumn of 1999 I experienced the horrors of the unexpected when I received an early morning phone call telling me Becky had passed away. The numbness filled me to a point that I could no longer feel one of her infamous hugs. I can't begin to describe the emptiness within me. Then or now.

Becky's father passed away in 1995. On the day of his death she wrote these words to him. The sensitivity and love in this short note says more of the goodness and light within my sister's heart than I can ever hope to express in a million pages...



When I was a small child, I knew all the love my mother's heart could hold; but when I turned six years of age, I discovered the 1ove that a father could give. In all my years of growing up, you never let a day go by without showing me in a thousand ways how much I belonged to you, and would always be in your heart. You taught me how to be strong, to love, and to always stand for what was right and good. You gave me something that no one can ever take away--you gave me the gift of love. As I stand here on this mountain, I can feel your presence everywhere. I can even feel you brush away my tears as the wind blows against my face. You wil1 always be with me Daddy. In every beat of my heart and with every breath I take.

I love you,
Becky



I spent over thirty years wishing for a big sister. I spent nearly ten searching for her. Then, after only five years under our belt, she was taken from me. I can't do anything about the latter. I can, however, try to do something about the former. If my actions can prevent one person from having to search for what was rightfully theirs and taken away without the consent of the only person it truly effects, then I have made a difference. And as I live so shall the memory of my beloved sister. I have been bumped up in line and have become the eldest of my birthmother's children. And, to be honest, I don't like it. This is the part of growing up that sucks. Philosophical? Hardly. Truthful? Most definitely.

Becky now rests beside her father. She's at peace and free of pain. She will forever overlook the scenic mountains of her beloved West Virginia home.... and that is exactly where she would want to be. However, she will also continue to reside within my heart as well as the hearts and souls of all who knew her. And it is there, within the confines of that love, that I will always return whenever I need a hug from my big sister.