She's been interviewed here before.
Today's guest blogger is one of my favorite adoptees.
Today's guest blogger is one of my favorite adoptees.
One of my favorite therapists.
One of my favorite people in the world.
Welcome again to Adoptee Restoration... Karen Caffrey, LPC, JD
***
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| Karen Caffrey, LPC, JD |
My mom has been on my mind a great deal lately. As some of you know, I have recently become
involved again in the adoptee rights movement.
The last time I did this so intensely it was 1998. That was when my mom still drove. When she still walked. When she still smiled and laughed. When she still remembered me, and my brother,
and other people she knew and loved. It
was before she became so, well, still.
I think of her when I speak with legislators about the need
to re-establish the right of access, which I had when I was born and adopted in
Connecticut. Sometimes I tell them
stories about my mom. About how she
supported me. And about the things she
said and did. About how I knew she had
my back.
Then I read this post of Deanna’s about
adoptive parents who deliberately, deliberately I say, adopted children from
foreign countries because they thought they could avoid the grim reaper their
child’s need to know their origins. And
I decided I wanted to tell those people, and the rest of you, about my mother.
As far back as I can remember, I knew I was adopted. I have no clear recollection of being told so
by my parents. It was part of the warp
and weave of my life. I am Karen Diane
Oestreicher. I am a girl. I am adopted.
Years later when my mother was being interviewed by a
reporter for an article about my search and reunion, she casually mentioned
that she would not have told me that I was adopted if left to her own
desires. She and my father told my
brother and I that we were adopted because the adoption agency said it would be
best for us to know. (Thank-you, Village for Families and Children.) I now know this was the first, but far from the last, time that my
mother chose to do what was best for me even though it was difficult for her.
My mother was a big believer in being open and honest with
her children. There were no locked doors
or drawers in the house. We were free to
look at what we wished. So I had no
trepidation as a teenager when I was checking out the papers stored in her
strongbox. Imagine my puzzlement when I
came across official looking papers with my name, and yet also another name,
that I did not recognize. Who was this
girl?
As it turns out, the girl was me. Me, and my name, before I was adopted. I showed the papers to my mother and she
confirmed the truth. No secrets. No lies.
Fast forward a few short years, and I am sixteen. My mother is letting me drive her car, by
myself, to Hartford to learn more about my origins. It takes three more years of searching and
legal proceedings, but then I am talking to my birth parents on the phone and
getting ready to take a plane to Texas to meet them. (There’s a book to be written there, I am sure.)
And here is the really important part, so pay attention
now. She put me on the plane. She smiled, she waved, and she put me on the
plane.
Years later, my brother would confide in me how she was
afraid I would never come back. Consumed
by the narcissism of my teen self and the intensity of my need, I was (largely)
oblivious to her pain. But I look back
now with the wisdom acquired from an additional three decades of living, and I
am in awe of my mother. Of her courage.
Of her love. Of her grace under fire.
She put me on the plane.
I came back, of course.
I came back and I was still her daughter, as I always was. I had acquired another mother (well, really
just relocated the first one), but I was still her daughter. In the ensuing years my mothers first exchanged
letters and then met. They visited when
possible. Each was so grateful to the
other, for being the mother to me that the other could not be.
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| Karen Caffrey and her Moms; Photo by Raymond Gendreau, used by permission. |
More years later, my mother confided in me that she was
always aware that I had suffered a great loss before I came into her life. She said that knowing that, she had tried as
hard as she could to keep anything bad from happening to me ever again.
(Sigh….if only…..but the intention was there.)
I was stunned that she had known, that she had understood. That she had had some glimmer of an idea of
what I had gone through as a tiny infant.
In 1998 my mother submitted testimony in support of a proposed bill in Connecticut to restore the right of access to original birth certificates, taken from us in 1975. I am looking at a copy of her testimony as I write this. She wrote, “Both of my children are honest, hard working and productive citizens. I am proud of them. I cannot understand why they should be denied what everyone else takes for granted.”
It is because of my mother that I can stand up and speak
with a clear, proud voice that I and all other adoptees deserve the rights that
other citizens enjoy. It is because of
my mother that I was able to embark on the long, necessary healing journey of
my adopted self. I enjoy these gifts
because my mother didn’t sacrifice my needs in service of a desire to avoid her
own pain.
I am proud of my mother.
I think I’ll keep her.
***
For
almost twenty years, Karen Caffrey, LPC, JD has been a counselor for
individuals, couples and groups in her psychotherapy practice. She helps people
recover from anxiety and depression, problems in their relationships, work and
life stress, emotional, physical and sexual abuse, PTSD (post traumatic stress
disorder), trauma, addictions, women’s issues, and achieve mental health and
wellness.
For ten
years prior to her career as a counselor, she was a practicing attorney. She
practiced law in a Fortune 100 corporation as well as in a private law
firm. She found that her experiences as a
lawyer made her uniquely able to understand and empathize with her clients who
work in the legal and corporate worlds.
She has a keen appreciation of what it is like to try to address your
own needs while balancing work, family and community obligations. She also learned that even highly successful,
capable people can face life challenges for which they need help.
She
specializes in working with adult adoptees, and does this work individually and
in groups. She has presented extensively on issues faced by adult adoptees
including loss, rejection, anger and identity.
Lastly,
she has a special love for animals and has experienced how powerful a healing
force they can be in people’s lives.
When possible and appropriate, she encourages people to involve their
animals (real or symbolic) in their healing process.
