Aurora Magazine 2019

barely able to speak the words aloud. “She wrote.”

“Oh, Deb, that’s great! What did she say?” “I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet. Can you listen for a moment while I read it?” Already silent tears roll down my cheeks. Warm tears on my cool cheeks. I am aware of the thaw - ing, melting of frozen tear ducts. My daughter has written to me. A miracle and nothing less. “OK, I am opening it- Oh, Joel! There’s a photo. oh, oh- she’s so pretty! What a happy smile! It’s a photo of Ann-” Ann, I know her name- “She has long blond hair, blue eyes. She’s wearing over - alls, and a long-sleeved black t-shirt” I pause...” Joel, she has her arm around a horse- they are in a field...” I can’t read the card for a couple more moments. I am sobbing. Deep, heart-wrenching sobs- joy, sorrow, ecstasy, and pain. My chest hurts as I am wracked from pounding head to trembling toe with pent up emotion. My first photo of my daughter in nearly 18 years. “Deb, are you ok?” Joel’s voice is concerned. “Yes, yes. I can’t believe it.” I reply, “Ok, let me look at the card. There’s a horse and rider on it. A really nice print of a pastel painting.” “Ready?” I whisper. “Ok, here goes-” one more slow breath and I begin to read. Dear Debbie, Happy Mother’s Day! (Or if this arrives after Sunday, Hap - py Belated Mother’s Day!) Thank you so much for your letter! Although I’ve always known I was adopted, I was still pretty surprised when I got your card in the mail. I have toyed with the idea of tracking down my birth-parents but had never actually gotten serious about it. Enclosed is a picture of myself and my horse Bandito. I usually wear my hair in a ponytail, but 44