Chapter 1:

Turned Upside-Down

YOU’RE ADOPTED! my older sister screamed as a final, vicious jab while she was bullying me again. And your mom didn’t want you!

I froze for a second and then cried out, What? What are you talking about?

My nine-year-old brain couldn’t grasp my sister’s words. Adopted? I thought. My mom didn’t want me? But my mom is right here!

I was simultaneously confused and devastated. My stomach was in knots, and I felt like I was going to pass out. In an instant, my whole world was turned upside-down.

My sister, Cele, was six years older than me. I was used to her torturing and picking on me, but this was different. This was a whole new level of cruelty. I could see that she enjoyed my reaction. She had an evil look in her eyes that I will never forget.

My thoughts were interrupted by my mom telling Cele to go to her room. As Cele slowly sauntered down the hallway toward her bedroom, she turned her head toward me with that look. She knew she had just unlocked Pandora’s box.

I ran after her, shouting, I hate you! That’s the last thing I remember before I stumbled over Cele’s outstretched leg, hit my head on the floor, and blacked out.

When I came to, my mom was kneeling next to me, stroking my head. She scooped me up, took me into the dining room, and sat me down, away from my sister. I was still in shock from being knocked out, and still reeling from what Cele had said.

Mom, what is she talking about? I asked. What does ‘adopted’ mean? Why did she say that my mom didn’t want me? Mom, do you still love me? Are you my mom?

Sweetheart, of course I love you. Of course, I am your mom.

She could see my tears, and I could see hers.

Honey, let me explain what ‘adopted’ means, she continued. "This is complicated. It’s something that Daddy and I were planning on telling you when you were a little older.

"Sometimes mommies can’t have their own babies. Sometimes mommies need help. I wasn’t able to get pregnant, so I needed someone’s help.

I wasn’t able to give birth to you or to Cele. I needed someone to help me have babies.

At nine years old, I knew nothing about how a baby came into the world.

I could tell my mom was struggling to find the right words to explain how I came to be part of this family. She continued, "When Daddy and I knew that we wanted to start a family, we had to get help. There are a lot of women who can have babies, but are unable to take care of them, so they need our help, too.

"Daddy and I were lucky that we were able to find a nice, sweet young girl who needed our help. We fell in love with you right away. We knew that you were born just for us.

You are our daughter, and we are so happy that you came to us.

I was still struggling to try to understand everything that she was saying. I started to ask a slew of questions. Where is she? Who is she? Is she coming back to get me?

My mom had the difficult task of trying to give me answers, all while trying to calm me down and wipe away my tears. She was doing her best, but I began to sob and couldn’t stop. I was still so confused and hurt.

When my dad came home, he had a sad look on his face, like he knew what had transpired. My mom must have called him at work, so he already knew my little heart had been broken.

My parents took me outside and sat me down. Then they explained as best they could how they had adopted Cele and then me. For a split second, a wave of comfort came over me when I realized that Cele was not my real sister. It made so much sense. That’s why she was so mean to me!

My parents also explained that they felt they told Cele about her adoption when she was too young. She was very confused and had a hard time understanding. Because they saw how my sister struggled, my parents didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. They felt it would be best to wait until I was a little older to tell me the truth.

As we sat in the backyard, the sun started setting. We had talked way past the dinner hour. From the backdoor, Cele yelled something about eating. She was clearly upset that my parents were spending so much time with me.

In an attempt to cheer me up and make me laugh, as my dad always did, he wrapped up the conversation with, We saw a lot of babies before we saw you. You were the cutest baby of the bunch. We picked you because all of the other babies were ugly!

With that, we all smiled and tried to have as normal of an evening as we possibly could.

•••

I thought that maybe since the secret was out, Cele would be more kind and start to treat me a little differently. But, she didn’t. Her horrible behavior toward me only escalated. She really felt as if I were my parents’ favorite.

Cele, me, and Dad in 1951, when Cele was ten and I was four

Cele was a mischievous girl. To ensure that I wouldn’t report her bad behavior to my parents, she would stand over me, bend my thumbs all the way back, and threaten to kill me if I said anything. And I believed her. At fifteen, Cele was five foot eight and weighed about 170 pounds. I was a skinny little nine-year-old who was constantly walking on eggshells around her.

My parents were wonderful. They adored me and provided for me in every way. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. But after that day, I started wondering about this mystery woman—my real mother. Who was she? Was she someone famous? Was she coming back for me someday? At nine years old, I just couldn’t understand why she couldn’t or wouldn’t keep me. I wondered how she could have just given me away, and what I possibly could have done to make her not want me. I began thinking of my real mother every day, wanting more information, wanting to find her.

Chapter 2:

Morrie and Rose

My parents, Morrie and Rose, were raised in Chicago, Illinois, and were the children of Jewish immigrants—Dad’s parents came to America from Russia and Lithuania and Mom’s from Russia.

Dad was the oldest of four. He had one younger sister and two younger brothers. His dad owned a Kosher wholesale meat distributing company as well as a hotel, both of which did very well. My grandfather provided a lavish lifestyle for his wife and children. They had a maid, a butler, a driver, and a chef. They also owned a cottage on Lake Muskegon in Michigan, where the whole family vacationed each summer.

Mom was the youngest of five. She had three brothers and one sister. My grandfather owned a barbershop and my grandmother kept house. In 1925, when my mom was eleven, her father died suddenly, leaving his thirty-eight-year-old widow to support the family on her own. My grandmother had never worked outside the home, but she found a job as a cook in a restaurant. She also cleaned houses.

My mom would often tell me how hard life was after her dad died and how her mom struggled to put food on the table. Fortunately, my uncles were soon out of high school and working, so they helped support the family. By 1930, they had also taken in a tenant to make ends meet.

Love at First Sight

In 1934, my dad and his brother George were working in one of the family’s Kosher meat markets. One day, a middle-aged woman walked in accompanied by a much younger woman. My dad looked up, caught one glimpse of the young lady with brown hair and blue eyes, and was completely smitten. And as the cliché goes, he leaned over to his brother and said, That’s the girl I’m going to marry!

Mom, around 1932

My mom was that beautiful young woman, and she was terribly shy. After she visited the meat market a few more times, my dad finally asked her to go on a date with him. However, he neglected to tell her that they were going to his cousin’s Bar Mitzvah at the Drake Hotel and that it was a formal affair. My mom had come straight from her job as a social worker, so she was wearing a business suit under her trench coat. All of the other ladies were wearing evening gowns and fur coats. My mom had never seen such opulence. The diamonds were something out of a magazine. She didn’t feel that she fit in with this elite social scene and could sense the cold stares and judgment. My dad was very handsome, and my mom sensed that the eligible women were vying for his attention. He was wearing a tuxedo and had a strong resemblance to, and was often mistaken for, Humphrey Bogart.

As the evening progressed, Mom became aware of the social status my father’s family held. When she was introduced to his parents and other family members, she was graceful and elegant as always. She charmed her future in-laws, even though she refused to take off her trench coat. My father asked her to dance, and she felt uncomfortable approaching the dance floor. With his calm demeanor, my dad said she was the most beautiful woman in the room. With a face like this, who’s looking at your coat?

Though it was a somewhat awkward first date, he didn’t stop pursuing her, and she didn’t push him away.

My parents got engaged in December of 1934. My dad’s mom wanted to throw a large, lavish wedding. My dad was her oldest son, after all, and the first son to marry. But my mom didn’t have the