January 4, 2003

• UPDATE: We did it! Thanks to your messages left in her guestbook, Angie has blogged. My little girl, my baby–the last memory I have of her before she was adopted is of a fuzzy headed, obviously red-haired baby in nothing but a diaper, sitting on a floor, waving both arms. Now she has given me a pack of grandkids, even some redheads among them, and tons of warm and fuzzy feelings. I’m so proud of her!

  
  

  Original blog: 5:05 PM Xanga time (1:05 my time) January 3, 2003:

  
  

  “Carol”

  
  

  I don’t know how to categorize this entry.  It is about family, about Xanga… about me, too.

  
  

  Carol is my second child. Her father was my childhood sweetheart, and after giving her to me, he became the long-lost love of my life.  Very soon, I lost Carol, too.  That story, being one of the most dramatic episodes of my life, is how I started my memoir blogs here.  If you’ve read it, you probably remember some of it.  If you haven’t read it, you can find it in four or five installments at the beginning of the “Sixties Saga” as listed in the left-hand column on my main page here.

  
  

  When I get around to writing the story of her finding me eight years ago, that’s going to be another good tale.   I’ve been getting chills as I sit here, from thinking about that momentous phone call from the Alaska State Troopers.  By the time the connections were made and the telephone reunion complete, even the State Trooper who tracked me down for her was laughing with tears in her eyes.

  
  

  Well, she’s here… not the Trooper, but Angie, my Carol, is a Xangan now.   I didn’t realize it at first.  It took an email from her, pointing me to the comment she had left on one of my recent blogs.  Wow, she really knows how to touch a mother’s heart.  Anyone who’d like to share in my maternal joy can find the comment here.

  
  

  Angie hasn’t blogged yet.  I think she could use some encouragement.  She writes well, as I know from her letters.  She has a wonderful sense of humor–our phone conversations are full of laughter.  She has told me that for her, as it does for me, the writing just “flows”, but it’s full of typos and she hesitates to make it public.  When she said that, I had to laugh, because my raw literary production is typo-riddled, too.  It was especially bad before I got the “home row bumps” to stick on my keyboard and got used to placing my index fingers on them before I type.  But even when my fingers are on the right keys, edits and rewrites are always in order.

  
  

  Anyway, fellow Xangans, I’m pleased to present my beloved daughter angiem.  Please go welcome her, show her your worst typo-laden writing, and encourage her to share her thoughts with us.  If we can entice her out of her shyness, you’ll like the way she thinks.

  
  

  

  • 2:04 pm
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