Meeting Max (8 page)

Chapter 9

One night Rick had a dream in which he received a gift. It was in a small box wrapped in white paper. He lifted the lid, peeked inside, and saw a shimmering emerald. He didn’t keep it, but gave it away. He thought about the dream and its meaning. It was about Julie.

The next morning he picked up his mail at NYU and sifted through the letters as the sunshine from a nearby window streamed over them. Some were from colleagues, others from students.

One letter stood out. The return address indicated it was from Newark, New York. He opened it and sat down. Inside was a copy of an obituary—Julie’s, sent by her sister, Laurie, along with a note that read, S
he would have wanted you to know.
He was stunned and tears began to flow spontaneously.

I should have married her. Now I have nothing.

Rick sat hunched over on the bench, looking down at his knees. The sunshine that flowed into the mailroom was in vivid contrast to the darkness he felt inside. He remained numb and impervious to others around him who were casually going through their everyday mail. His mind drifted to sweet moments: Their kiss in the moonlight on a snowy night, their passions released in front of a roaring fire, and her radiant smiling face looking up at him on a snowy mountain from a toboggan.

I let her go. For what, a PhD? Julie was my soul mate.

He recalled her last words to him before she’d left for California: “You’ll never find this again.” She was right. He thought of their phone conversations and his unkept promises to search for Eric.

Rick had to find their son. It was all he had left of Julie and he had promised to search for him.

He knew Eric’s birthday and his mother’s name and had reason to believe the adoption was arranged through Catholic Charities somewhere in New Jersey. Eric was now an adult, about twenty-seven. Rick figured it would be easy.

He called Laurie the next day and offered his condolences. She would have nothing to do with him, and there was hatred in her tone. She reminded Rick that Julie had given her heart to him, and she admonished him for not marrying her. Laurie didn’t know about Eric and he didn’t tell her. Julie’s secret was safe from her domineering family.

Rick called every Catholic Charity organization in New Jersey and
wrote letters to all six Dioceses in the state, outlining the information he had about Eric. The search turned out to be more difficult than he’d imagined.

He called every agency he could find, left messages, and spent hours every day between classes for over six months searching for Eric. He put ads in New Jersey newspapers and provided Eric’s name and other information, hoping it would provide a lead. Rick was all over the internet in every state. Even private detectives were not able to help.

One night, on February 2008, Rick arrived home and there was a message on his answering machine.

“Hi, Mr. Newman. My name is Cheryl Sanders and I work for the Loving Care Adoption Services. I think we found your son. Please call me back. I’m here Monday through Friday. Hope to talk to you soon.”

His eyes widened and his pulse quickened as he looked up at the ceiling. He could not believe what he’d heard. So it
wasn’t
Catholic Charities after all. He was wrong. He sank down on his couch, closed his eyes, and whispered aloud, “Finally, finally, Julie.”

The phone message sounded so positive.
I think we found your son
. Those words meant everything to him, and he replayed her words again, reliving Cheryl’s positive tone.

He called early the next morning.

“I see you got my message, Mr. Newman. I have good news. I have information about your son. I’m Cheryl. May I call you Rick?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He wanted her to get to the point. He tensed up and held his breath.

“Let me tell you something about what we do. We help people search for their birth parents, and we conduct searches on behalf of birth parents who would like to reunite with adult children who were placed with us for adoption. I can give you some information about your son, but first tell me what you know.”

“Thank you very much for this. I can’t believe this moment is happening. I’ve been searching almost a year for my son. I loved his mother. Her name was Julie Phillips. My son was born on December 31, 1980, and he was named Eric after Julie’s father. Don’t know much more. I thought the adoption was arranged through Catholic Charities. I don’t know why I thought that. I’m sorry to say Julie was killed in an automobile accident in California.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, really sorry, especially now that we have so much information about your son. You know, all we really needed was his mother’s name. That would have been enough. I can give you
some
information, but I cannot tell you anything that will allow you to contact him. That can only happen with his permission.”

“That’s okay. I understand.” Rick held his breath.

“He was adopted when he was about a month old on February eighth.
His adopted parents kept the name Julie gave him. He is married and has a son. He must have gotten married when he was young because his son is now about seven. I can’t give you too much information without his permission, but if you will write a letter to him through me, I will send it on.”

“You mean I’m a grandfather?” Rick’s heart pounded.

“Yes, you are. The boy’s name is Maxwell.”

“It’s unbelievable, amazing. I feel I’m in some sort of dream. All those years ago are back now.”

“Well, there are two more things I can reveal. Eric is involved in the music business. Sometimes he spells his name E-h-r-i-k. I’m not sure why. He doesn’t play an instrument, but does something associated with music. Also, he has a college degree in chemistry.

“Rick, I know you want to know more, but we’re committed to certain protocols. Write the letter and send it to me, and we’ll take it from there. Oh, one more thing, locating people and getting them together is time consuming. We are a public agency with limited funds and request a contribution of five hundred dollars for our services. Is that okay? It’s only a request and is not mandatory.”

“Not a problem. It will be my pleasure.”

“Thank you. Send me the letter when you can. I’m glad we were able to chat. Now you know where Julie went when she needed care before Eric’s birth. He was born at Margaret Hague Hospital in Jersey City and, after being with Julie for three days, she released him for adoption.

“Please call me if you need help with writing the letter or anything. I think there’s a good chance he will communicate, but it is up to him. I hope you understand that. I’ve been doing this long time. Often, adult children, or birth parents, don’t want to be found.”

“Thank you, Cheryl. I’ll get the letter out as soon as I can.”

She sounded so pleasant and understanding, but she stuck to the rules. Rick couldn’t believe he had a grandson and he felt the pain of Julie not being with him.

We found him!

His heart ached and he wished Julie were sitting next to him. That little baby, that combination of Rick and Julie, was now a man.

***

10 February 2008

Dear Eric,

This letter may come as a surprise to you, but I wanted to write and let you know that I’m your birth father and would like to make myself available to you to answer the many questions you may have about your birth parents. It’s up to you to decide if you would like us to meet. That is totally your choice. It would be something I would like, but again, it’s up to you.

Your birth mother, Julie, was a very special person. I met her in 1979, when we were both almost nineteen. She grew up in Newark, New York, a small town not far from Rochester. She came to New York City to study nursing and we met in college. I was a political science major at that time, but I later changed to biology and the natural sciences. I met Julie in the library at school, where we became friends. That friendship grew into a beautiful love that we shared.

Although our love was strong, our families disapproved of our relationship on religious grounds. Julie was Catholic and I am Jewish. We had a warm and close relationship, which included skiing in Vermont and long walks in the country, fun stuff with friends, movies, and restaurants. We shared our feelings openly, along with our sense of humor, and just enjoyed being together. Julie was generally a happy person and always found the good in people. Your birth mother was of Dutch descent and had blue eyes and blonde hair. Her face would light up when she smiled. She was beautiful inside and out.

We wanted to get married, but the family pressures were against us along with other issues related to our educational goals. Because we didn’t marry, Julie moved to California and I stayed in New York, spending the next few years working toward my PhD in biology.

I never married, but kept in touch with your birth mom from time to time and we always talked about you, wondering in our own private fantasy world what you were like. We wanted to find you, just to know how you were and to tell you about us, but the information we had about you was limited and so protected in those days, it made it impossible for us.

Unfortunately, Julie died in an auto accident January 2007. I was totally crushed and became driven to find you. I found out that many restrictions on searches for adoptees have been lifted, so finding you would be a possibility, especially when searching for an adult.

I know you must have many questions regarding your birth parents, and I wanted to contact you because I want you to know about us, what our lives were like, and why we gave you up for adoption. In addition, it would certainly be valuable for you to know your medical history.

I’m forty-seven years old and a full professor of biology. I’m not married. There have been a few women in my life, but none that I cared about as much as your birth mother. I live in Manhattan but I have a 30’ sailboat in Key Biscayne, FL and I go there as often as my schedule permits to sail the Keys and the Bahamas. I also love to ski and have skied in Vermont and some of the mountains in Switzerland and France. I’m pretty much an outdoors kind of guy.

I have to admit I’m curious about you...what you like to do, how you live. But mostly I’d like to be able to answer any questions for you about your beginnings. I’m the only one in the world who has those answers.

I don’t want anything from you other than to know about you and how you are.

I hope we can talk on the phone and e-mail and maybe share some pictures. I’m very easygoing and maybe even a lot like you. This is all very exciting for me and I hope it is for you too. I would very much like to meet you, but that is your choice.

Sincerely,

Rick

R. Newman

Cheryl had difficulty contacting Eric, but was able to verify his address and found that he hadn’t been seen there for a while. She also learned there were marital problems involved. Rick was prepared for a long wait.

One day, he received a handwritten reply. The paper shook in his trembling hands.

Dear Rick,

First, let me apologize for taking so long to contact you. My God, I first received a letter from Cheryl months ago and here I am, finally sending something out to you. There is no excuse. I am truly sorry.

I was not expecting to ever know about my birth parents, much less hear from them, and I realize now that this came with some feelings of fear and anxiety. I also realize there have been many times in my life where such feelings preceded events that transformed life for the better.

Please don’t misconstrue any of this to think I have feelings of anger or resentment.

There is none of that (Life’s too short).

I am grateful to you and my birth mother. You’ve given me life, you’ve given me my son, and you’ve given me Thomas Da Tank Engine, which I wouldn’t have known about if I didn’t have my son!

I was sad to learn that Julie died, and now I feel some regret that I never made an effort to find you. I’ll admit I didn’t want to hurt my adoptive parents by looking for you. Mom died in April last year, so that’s not an issue anymore.

My father thinks that you and Julie were most likely two fine people who regretted giving their baby up for adoption so long ago.

There’s always the concern that when an adoptee pops up unannounced into the lives of his or her birth parents, there might be some issues of disruption or rejection. I’m sure you pondered this while you were searching. And in this sense, I can see the courage behind your efforts, and again, I’m grateful.

I look forward to talking to you and meeting you and your family. I was joking with one of my friends that I finally have an excuse to go to Florida before I’m 65. Ah,but I’m being impolite.

I grew up in Buffalo, New York, went to school there, later went to college in New York City, and got my BS in Chemistry. I also have some credits toward a psychology degree, which I really want to complete one day, but my first love is music. I don’t play an instrument, but I’m a sound engineer. It’s my passion. I’ve done a lot of work for popular entertainers and musical groups all over the United States.