(Originally posted April 5, 2013)

Zoey

It was a beautiful morning on November 16, 2003. I was turning 18 and Mom and Dad were throwing a big bash for me.

I was sure that my wonderful Dylan was going to ask me to marry him. We had talked about it several times, but both agreed that we would have to wait until I was 18.

Of course I was going to say yes.

I was awake earlier than usual that morning. I guess I was a little excited. Well, I was a lot excited. You only turn 18 once and I did not want to waste a single second of it.

I knew Mom and Dad would be up and there would be coffee on so I went downstairs to join them.

I could hear them talking as I neared the kitchen. Usually this would not have even caught my attention but I heard my name and I heard Mom say, "We have to tell her."

I remember Dad quietly saying, "But what if this changes our relationship. I don't want to lose my daughter."

I was puzzled at first, but then something hit me. I was so deep in thought that I basically tuned Mom and Dad out, until I heard the word, 'adopted'.

So it was true. What I had suspected all along was indeed fact.

I WAS adopted.

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, they both stopped talking. I went to the coffee pot and poured a coffee. I then turned around and looked at both of them. As far as I was concerned, they were my parents and nothing would ever change that.

I simply told them that I loved both of them very much and that they were the best parents in the world. And nothing would ever change the way I felt about them.

Then I asked, "Who is my mother?"

Mom started crying. I went to her and held her. I told her again that I loved her and I explained to both of them that I had always felt that I was adopted.

Hell I even joked about it once in a while.

I told them that I would never look at them other than my parents. They were the loves of my life and I would always look at them that way. But, now, I had to know.

Mom just looked at Dad. He had tears in his eyes. I had to hug him. I was not used to seeing my parents upset. It was tearing me apart.

I began to wonder if it was worth it. Worth all this pain. I had a great life. An amazing life. Would it change? Would it be any better?

I was about to tell them that I didn't want to know, when Mom passed me a paper.

Dad said, "We always planned to tell you on your 18th birthday."

I opened the paper. It was a legal document drawn up by a lawyer and signed by a judge. When I saw the name of my birth mother, I felt weak.

I dropped the paper and leaned back on the kitchen counter. Mom jumped to her feet and held me.

We both cried.

I couldn't process what I had just read. It couldn't be true.

My Auntie Zara was my Mom.