Countdown to Romania Is On!

Only 3 more sleeps until I leave for Romania. The emotions are overwhelming. Every now and then I break out in tears because of the excitement. I arrive in Arad, Romania very early in the morning and then off to Hunedoara-Timisana to see my mother. I arrive in the small village around 4:00AM local Romanian time. Due to excitement, I can guarantee we will both have limited sleep. We hope to record the happy reunion, but I must pre-warn readers that there will be loud and hysterical cries. I can only imagine the moment we meet. My stomach gets butterflies and I well up inside imagining the moment we meet. My legs are weak and I feel like I will fall to my knees in tears of happiness. My heart may stop because of the years of pain being release from my body.

For so many years I missed my birth mother. Many years I tried to hide the feelings from my adoptive family because I did not want to offend them. No one can understand the pain unless you are adopted like myself. Many years we suffer in silence. I am very fortunate to have a supportive mother, father and sister in Canada. They have provided me with a life of luxury, lots of love and support. For many years I took for granted what they gave me, but this life changing event has opened my eyes and made me very thankful for what I have been given.

I understand my purpose and calling in life. My birth mother fought so hard to keep her and her children alive. Many times she was in the hospital because our father beating her.

It was July 1989, in a small village outside of Iasi in the north eastern part of Romania. My mother was about 5 months pregnant with me at the time. It was approximately 12:00AM when my father charged into the room where my siblings and mother were sleeping and woke all of them up. He yelled in his angry drunken voice “GET OUT! And take your demon children with you!” He threw all of their clothes in the fire and booted them out the door. They were left with the T-shirts and pants they were wearing at the time and no shoes. Our father threw my mother around outside, kicked her and beat her, while pregnant with me… This would be the last time they saw our father. That night they slept in the corn field, and in the morning my mother took them to the bus stop. From there they boarded a bus to “anywhere” which ended up being Timisoara, Romania. My father’s sister claimed to of helped my mother after she fled the north east, but still treated her very poorly.

My mother went to Jamu Mare where she worked on a group farm. Then I was born later that year in the house with my siblings surrounding her. My mother worked very hard to keep her children safe and healthy. Many times they fended on the streets with little to no food. My mother struggled for many years and still continues to fight and work hard to survive.

I say to my sisters I understand my calling now. I was meant to be given an amazing life and education in Canada so I can return one day and tell her amazing story. Our mother suffered so we could be born. She is a Saint and her time is now.

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