I watched and waited 3 weeks for Beatrice, each Thursday tucking my Ipod in my pocket so I could pull out the picture of her family when I saw her. But nothing. I was anxious.
The 4th week though, was the annual Gifts of Grace summer BBQ, their birthday party. It was going to be a big event with hotdogs, coleslaw, chips, desserts, ice cream...and with a local artist doing caricatures of people even. The weekly volunteer crews had been spreading the news and there was a poster up as well so our patrons knew it was coming up. I knew it would be a big event for people and that there was a good chance that Beatrice would come.
It was a high tech operation and all the stations were covered BY volunteers. That was okay with me as I am most happy in the role of greeter, just chatting with people as they go through the line. So that's what I did.
Before the BBQ even started I had a trick played on me. An older lady carrying a garbage bag of stuff said she needed to go to the washroom before dinner was served and asked if she could leave it with me while she went. She stressed several times that she had a month's worth of groceries in that bag and that it was imperative that I not lose them. I reassured her several times that no worries, I would take care of her stuff. So she tucked it under the wheel of a truck and off she went. I did my job, and I would say quite diligently, as I didn't want to be responsible for losing all her food. But this bag watch went off for quite some time, and you know, I do like to talk so eventually became engaged in a conversation with someone else. All of a sudden the lady re-appeared and screeched "my bag is gone!!" I turned and looked quickly and sure enough it wasn't there! Well I panicked!! Thankfully she didn't leave me in that state for long, and lifted the bag that she had sneakily snatched back without me seeing, and smiling proudly at her prank. I told her she almost gave me a heart attack!
As the BBQ got going I had some interesting small chat with folks..some new folks and some I have known for awhile either through Gifts of Grace or my professional life. I always enjoy banter about the weather with one of the regulars, an older man who always wears the same heavy, worn and ripped up jacket with the hood up even if it is 35 degrees. He always greets me with a "how are you dear?" and is a gentle soul with I suspect some mental health issues. We chatted about how unusually cool it was at night already. He told me that he had already had to use a candle to keep his legs warm at night on the street.
When goosebumps appeared on my arms from the cold, one guy suggested that I try drinking anti-freeze to keep me warm. He said it worked for him but I responded casually that I wasn't strong enough for that sort of thing. To each their own he said cheerfully. You never would have known from his appearance that he drinks anti freeze. I myself can't imagine...
Then came the girl that I wrote about in "The Meaning of a Picture," a former client of mine from my CFS days for whom I had saved pictures of her son. You may remember that she lost those pictures soon after. Well thankfully I later found another one in my treasure trove of mementos from those days, this one of her son sitting on Santa's lap when he was about 2. This time I was smart though and took a colour copy of it for her. I had told her some weeks before that I had another picture for her so as soon as she saw me she was asking for it. The Santa picture brought a big smile to her face and she proudly shared it with her friends. Once again she told me that her son was now 15, and once again I said how old I felt given that he was a newborn when I had last seen him.
Then came an older man wearing a tutu like outfit, furry slippers and holding a stuffed animal which he said was his girlfriend's dog. We chatted briefly about him not being happy that his roommates had made a mess of his apartment. It was not hard to suspect mental health issues with him given his interesting choice of clothes, but I enjoyed the interaction with this friendly and interesting fellow.
It wasn't long into the BBQ that I spotted Beatrice coming through. I was excited that the moment was finally here, immediately went to her and walked by her side as she passed through the food line. I could tell right away that she wasn't herself. She seemed irritated. In hindsight I wish I would have chosen another time to talk to her given that she wasn't in the best of spirits, but I didn't know when I would see her again. So I went for it...
I started out by reminding her of our conversation about our mutual hometown, telling her that I had been there recently. I had her attention as I shared that I had run into a girl there who reminded me of her, and that shockingly she turned out to be her sister. She didn't seem surprised by this news and impatiently urged me to tell her the rest. It was difficult to tell this kind of a story as she was getting her food doled out, but I got out what I could including that I had a picture to show her. There wasn't much of a reaction when I pulled up the picture, and to be honest I was a little disappointed by how anti-climactic the reveal had turned out to be.
Maybe it was shock though. Because after Beatrice collected her food it was like she came alive, like the Beatrice I had met before. She wanted me to come and show her family, actually her street family, the picture of her birth family. As she introduced me to her street mother and brother, she shared that they had looked out for her since she was 16. Both looked at the picture and seemed to enjoy seeing Beatrice's birth mother and sisters, noting that they looked like her. After that Beatrice seemed bothered though, telling me that she couldn't give up her street family now (just because her birth family had been found), because her street family was her family. I reassured her that she didn't need to choose; that she had two families that cared about her.
She barraged me with questions, how her mom was, was she in a wheelchair, when were they going to look for her again, what else did they say about her, and she even wanted me to show on my face how her sister had reacted to seeing her picture. I felt like I didn't have much to offer her as I hadn't really talked to them for very long. I just kept reiterating that they were excited to hear about her and to see her picture, and as well that her sister had come looking for her in Winnipeg. That clearly made her feel good as she started to blurt out to people this big news that after 41 years she was seeing her mother and sisters again.
We talked about how her mother had been an alcoholic, which she knew, and as far as Beatrice knew she had been given up by her mother at age 2. I told her that she may not have actually been given up; that she was likely removed from her mother's care due to her addiction. I shared my knowledge that she had older siblings who had also been removed and adopted. She knew nothing of this. I also talked about how the two sisters that I had met had been allowed to remain with her mother, but that I suspected their lives had probably been pretty tough as well given how their mom had struggled over the years.
It was at this point that Beatrice shared that she too was an alcoholic, was living at Siloam Mission and that she had been sober only 9 days. That explained why she seemed so irritable that day perhaps. It can be shameful to admit you have an addiction, so all I said to her was "well you've had a rough life." And she nodded quietly.
I wanted to tell her something else though, something that I haven't shared yet with you readers. Well if you already thought this was a crazy story, it turns out that I have another connection with Beatrice.
My mom was with me when I met Beatrice's sister, and with it being a small town, she knew who Beatrice's birth mother was, how she had struggled with an addiction over the years, and how her children had been removed. What is crazy is that she told me that day that my aunt and uncle had fostered one of Beatrice's mother's children back in the 1970s. She just didn't know which of the children it would have been. Could it have been Beatrice we wondered???
So after that weekend I wrote my cousin asking her for information about who her family had fostered way back when. It wasn't long before it was confirmed by some of my older cousins that my aunt and uncle had fostered one of Beatrice's older sisters "Dru" for several years. Can you believe that??!!
Despite having 6 kids of their own, my aunt and uncle had fostered as well, and had loved this little girl like crazy my mom said. That's just the kind of people they were...They had even wanted to keep her permanently, but at about age 3 she was placed for adoption with a family in Brandon. The adoptive family had sent some pictures after the adoption but my family never got to see her again. Her name was also changed with the adoption. It was clear that nobody in Beatrice's family knew what had happened to her. She is one of the Sixties Scoop kids I am sure.
I told Beatrice about this crazy connection, which also got little reaction, except that she became focused on what this connection made her and I...step cousin, foster sister etc. etc? In the end she just said "we're family."
I left her to eat and went back to my "post" as greeter. Well it wasn't long before she came back for me, with that huge smile and full of energy, wanting me to show person after person that picture, with glee sharing that she was seeing her mom and sisters after 41 years. She kept saying that...41 years. Well I must have shown over 10 people that picture!! She was just so excited, bouncing all over the place. I probably would have had to show 10 more people that picture had I not run into one of my favourite ex-clients who I had not seen in years. That was a lovely reunion as well.
Beatrice asked me to make copies of the picture for her, 20 to be exact, as she had a lot of people to share her family with she said. She also wanted me to try and get a letter to her family for her. Although it wasn't perhaps the best time to have shared the news with Beatrice, I did feel good in the end about how it was received, and hopeful that a connection with her birth family would be a positive thing in her life.
So that was that day...I am finally finishing this post months later and I have seen Beatrice many times since during my Gifts of Grace outings. She always seeks me out, and now calls me "auntie." I guess that is what she has decided that I am to her given that my family cared for her sister. I never know how she is going to be that day, as some days she is happy and full of energy, hugging me, anxious for the pictures and even talking about us taking a road trip together to see her family. Yes Thelma and Louise style :) Other times she has been so angry...angry at her mother for giving her up, even saying that if she saw her, that she would punch her for what she had done to her. She has also said that she wished she had never found out anything about them because of the tough life she has had as a result of her mother. Other times she has been annoyed and irritated with me for not having the pictures I had promised. That was how she was the last time I saw her. She also wanted my phone number because apparently her street mother wanted to talk to me about her family. Needless to say I didn't give it to her.
I unfortunately didn't get to give Beatrice the pictures myself before I left, so asked Bob, a Gifts of Grace founder, to pass them on to her when he saw her again. He recently sent word that they had been passed on and that Beatrice was thrilled to get them.
So for now folks, that is Beatrice's story. I continue to think what an unbelievable story this turned out to be, all starting with me talking to some random girl with a familiar smile. I never thought that it would have a fairytale ending with them all reuniting and being one big happy family. Too much damage has been done for that, and although I hate to use this term, they are damaged people.
After years and years of working within the child welfare system, I do believe though that every child has a right to know who they are and where they came from, good or bad, and that at a certain age they should be able to make the decision themselves as to what kind of relationship, if any, they want to have with their birth family. Beatrice now has this opportunity, and it will be up to her. If I can help facilitate some sort of contact, then I will, as she has enough barriers in her life as it is. Beatrice's relationship with her mother may be irreparable but my hope would be that at least she and her siblings can connect in some way. Because after all, it isn't their fault how their lives played out.
I guess we will have to wait and see....
I guess we will have to wait and see....
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