Pandora’s Box

My own Pandora's Box

My own Pandora’s Box


So, I have this box.  It is nothing to look at.   It is an old Florida Oranges box I received from my Granny back when she sent me Florida oranges and Grapefruits in the mail because she knew I loved them.  Inside of it, photos, birthday cards, letters, memories.

I don’t know why on this particular day I made the decision to open that box and look for it.  I can’t even remember putting the paperwork inside of it, or why I kept it.  I knew there weren’t any last names on the paperwork.  It was just a generic “Dear Birthmother” letter and 2 forms filled out (one by each adoptive parent) about colleges attended, likes, dislikes, and first names.  I don’t know what I hoped I would find, but on this day I had an uncontrollable urge to try.

Digging to the bottom of the box, I found what I was looking for and one more thing, my first son’s hospital hat.  I immediately put the hat to my nose and tried to smell some remnant of him, but all I could smell was dust.  Putting it aside, I read through the letter and forms for the first time in 13 years or so.

I gathered up the information, walked calmly to the computer and started googling.  First name combos, quotes, no quotes.  Connecticut?  First names plus colleges.  I don’t remember what the exact google query was, but up popped a photo.  A photo of the people I had met 13 years ago.  It was them.  I knew their last names.  I felt like I was spying on them.  It felt wrong, but I could not help myself. A few clicks later and I found of photo of my son.  OH MY GOD. There he was, smiling.  At the bottom of the page, an email address for the adoptive mother.

A few days later, and after much soul searching I emailed her.  I had to know.  I had to forge some kind of connection.  I don’t know if anyone who isn’t a first mother can understand the thought process, but it felt like I had no choice.  I had to write her.

Since that day 2 years ago, I have been crushed by wave after wave of emotion that I had repressed.  It has been painful, necessary, and unending.  Pandora’s box can not be closed.



  1. Suz


    I think we all have one of those boxes. Kudos to you for writing her. While my daughter was a legal adult when I found her, I felt no desire to contact her adoptive parents. I may have felt differently if I had found her when she was a minor. I am curious about so much more. You need to write me and email and tell me more! : )

  2. V's Mom

    Wow must be a common ting for us first Moms who were able to keep their little hats…28 years later and Im sad that I cant smell it either..although I think sometimes my brain tricks me into thinking I can.

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