Happy Birthday Little Brother David!

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This loss weighing on my very bones.

In memory of

David Efrain Rivera

5.12.1966 – 1.9.2009

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A sense of loss of someone who left this earth eight years ago; eight years before I knew he existed.

Where do I begin?

How do I begin?

 

What happened to those:

  • Eight years
  • 96 months
  • 416 weeks
  • 2920 days
  • 70080 hours
  • 4204800 minutes
  • 252288000 seconds

Where did this time go?

 

What can happen in eight years – what are all the things my brother has missed out on – whether it was a sibling or his own children robbed of their childhood by his passing

Off the top of my head are just some of the highlights that define our existence

  • Birth
  • 1st birthdays
  • first niece / nephew
  • celebrations like
    • graduations from pre-k, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school
    • bris, baptism
    • communion, confirmation, bat / bar mitzvah,
  • first puppy / kitten
  • first concert
  • first road trip
  • first camping trip
  • first true love
  • passing driving test
  • starting college
  • graduating college
  • first credit card
  • first car
  • first job
  • first wedding
  • first house
  • first grandchild

———————-

The list can go on to cover so many things like

  • First family vacation overseas

But – for now let’s just contemplate some of these things

For this too can qualify as a life not lived, or perhaps a life half lived because his legacy is now his lovely children left in the wake of his untimely departure and the grandchildren he never met, and those that that remained, those that loved him; those he left behind.

Farewell oh brother of mine that only lives in pictures and other people’s memories. Stories of your youth shared with me as I try to keep those pieces together to paint your picture! Always wondering, what would have been …

Until We Meet …

Fly free now, alongside your wings our sister (1957 – 2012) and brother (1958-1958) ; with your steadfast co-pilot at your side, your bride (1971 – 2017).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bad Connection?

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Most of my life I wondered about my birth parents, my birth mother in particular. For some reason, my attention always focused in that direction. As I got older and understood the whole procreation process, I realized that my birth mother was going to be my ‘in’ to my truth; my very humble beginnings!

Well, now I have the ability to get to know my birth mother and my emotions are mixed. We have spoken on several occasions; logistically we can only do phone calls. I am okay with that. I want to speak to her; but then I don’t. I want to know the truth; yet Linda is unable to share this secret she has held these fifty plus years. There is nothing more right now that I want, expect, and deserve; it is the absolute truth.

I have imagined at least five possible scenarios that would have pushed her to leave a newborn in a car.

I have excused, forgiven, have no ill will to that scared, lonely [in her heart & head], hormone crazed 25 year old with two small children already in her haphazard care.

However, I have less patience and understanding for the 78 year old on the other end of the line that has yet to take responsibility and been honest with herself to say the least. Feigning memory loss just isn’t working.

‘What did you say Linda, you don’t remember? I am sorry, we seem to have a bad connection – I’ll have to hang up now.’

 

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Older Sister – Deb around the same age [Top Picture – the author around 2 years old]

Police Record Starting Early – “‘1-Day-Old Hitchhiker” ~Newsday, August 21, 1963

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Yes, my adoption story was one I didn’t find the full truth about until about 20+ years ago.

 

And to be completely truthful here, I am still awaiting some truths.

This is when my search for my birth parents changed direction. I had no idea the tru circumstances of my coming into being. The truth I found out was only revealed after I did some basic leg work and kept requesting information. So, my truth I  found out when I reached out to the adoption records department through the NYS Health Department. Much of it was general, no history on the parents. Commonly referred to as ‘non-identifying’ information. They sent me my file and it read read ‘released due to neglect.’ Also in it was a corresponding police report ID #; I had a mission ahead of me.

The next step took some time, but I was able to obtain the original police report. It would be up to me to continue to find any of my identifying information. To utilize what was available. DNA, at that time, was financially out of my reach. I hit the pavement. I tried to connect with the police officers in the report, I searched newspaper microfiche. From there I found the correlating news story. The car belonged to a middle aged woman named Josephine.

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Small world, or my world which is actually 4 degrees and not 6 degrees of separation; my partners / SO’s 2nd cousin actually held me  while waiting for the police to come and get me when I was found that fateful day 53+ years ago. But the ‘coincidences don’t end there.  

As chance would have it, a friend of mine went to high school with Josephine’s daughter. This helped with facilitating a meet and greet.  I was fortunate enough to meet Josephine, and her daughter, in the flesh.  I don’t think she was able to see me as anything other other than the adult that stood in front of her. She couldn’t fathom I was that infant that was left alone with literally nothing but the clothes on my back, a blanket and a religious medal.  In Josephine’s aged years, she questioned me; why did you leave that baby in the car. I really was unable to answer her.

My whole life I knew I was adopted, but the story I was raised with was quite different from the truth. It seems that is a common theme, the truth evading me. From my parents [adoptive ones, the ones that earned the right to be called parents], trying to protect me to the current situation. But here, I don’t think ‘Linda’ [birth mother] is trying to protect anyone but herself. 

I reflect on so many things now. It is with a different perspective. Now I look at it as a mother.  I also look at it as lost sister, lost daughter, lost granddaughter, lost niece, lost cousin, and lost aunt. Overall, that is OK because I did not want for any of those relationships.

Random thoughts that seem to plague my waking hours:

  • The hardest thing for me now is still wondering what the exact truth is.
  • To some it might seem trivial, but I have never known what my actual birth date is since they guesstimated my birth as 12 / 24 hours before I was found. 
  • What is it that led ‘Linda’  to that fateful decision?
  • What was going on in her head.
  • All these years, she never tried to find me.
  • This secret was best left a skeleton in her closet. But the truth is rearing it’s head.

Not looking for justice; none if this is about that. The crime itself has long passed its’ statue of limitations. Answers, truthful answers to just some of those plaguing thoughts. 

For some time after I found out the truth I was pretty unhappy that this truth, my truth, was always kept at bay. But then it occurred to me my adoptive parents, the family that made all the sacrifices to raise me; were just trying to protect me and possibly put a better spin on my birth parents.

FOUND!!!!!

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Happened that quickly; in the blink of an eye – I went from not knowing anything to having full siblings, and 200 people on my ancestry tree.
Well, I don’t even know where to begin. But I will start with a bit of backtracking.
Last Monday, after returning from a family vacation, I found I had a ‘close family’ match on Ancestry.
Well, cutting to the chase, after a day of phone calls back and forth to my new close family match, Nikki, sharing 1602 cMs and 62 segments, as well as calls to some other DNA cousins – we determined this was my niece – my FULL niece. Nicki had lots of info and we got from point A to point B pretty quickly with her knowledge combined with the Urdaz research tree I had on Ancestry.
Why is this so AMAZING? 50+ years ago I was found in a car at 12 to 24 hours old with no identifying information. The ensuing police investigation came up empty and I was soon released by Family Services to be adopted. [Who would ever think I would have FULL anything!!]
I have always known I was adopted, and have always wondered about my birth family. Years and years of questioning, wondering and frustration followed by empty leads and not much more information.
Finally, I DNA tested three years ago. I followed the recommendations and tested across the board, aka, ‘fishing in all ponds’; it paid off. Honestly, I am still floored/confused by the science. Many times I didn’t fully understand what I was looking at. I was fortunate to have the assistance of the brilliant mind and amazing heart of a DNA cousin, George P. George correctly determined who my original tribe would be months ago! Without the information George pieced together; it wouldn’t have been so easy to ascertain the relationship with my new found niece!
It turns out I have one surviving full biological brother and 2 that have passed along with my biological father. My birth mother is still alive. She has a vague memory of her pregnancy with me, so I am still trying to determine the true story of my very very humble beginnings. However, she did name me Elizabeth. [My biological brother will be DNA testing soon.]
Now, I am complete – I am relieved to have finally found my truth!
I am still a woman of two tribes, but now I know the origins of my original tribe – so, my quest will be changing.
My breakdown:
I am half Puerto Rican – and if you are Puerto Rican you know this to be a melting pot of several cultures and nationalities combing European, Indigenous and African roots.  The other half is mostly German.  My Jewish / Ashkenazi heritage is still questionable and seems to possibly come from both sides.
My paternal history is Puerto Rican.
My dad was Israel Joseph Rivera y Juarbe, 1935 – 2011. He relocated to Florida.
On his paternal side; he is the great grandson of Hipolito Rivera and Francisca Correa y Urdaz [circa 1866 – 1925] both from Arecibo and Eulogio Rios y Medina & Beatriz Ortega y Viruet [circa 1864 – 1915] both from Utado. He is the grandson of Emilio Rivera y Urdaz & Trinidad Rios y Ortega [circa 1887 – 1937.]
On his maternal side  he is the great grandson of Utado residents Juan Batista Serrano Gonzalez & Cruz Roldan [circa 1842 – 1898] and Antonio M. Juarbe y Gonzalez of Utado & Fidela Gonzalez y Lopez from Lares  [circa 1844 – 1927]. He is the grandson of Jose Juarbe y Gonzalez & Carmen Serrano y Roldan [circa 1842 – 1942]. Both from Utado, eventually Carmen would find herself in Arecibo.
He was the only surviving son of Efrain Rivera y Rios & Rosa Juarbe y Serrano [circa 1912 – 2000]. His mother Rosa, passed just months after his entrance to this world. That is probably what sparked my grandfather, Efrain to pull up roots from Puerto Rico and head to the mainland; to New York. Eventually he would retire with my step-grandmother Marta Davis Centano in Florida. Efrain & Marta would have two children together; my father’s half-siblings, Beatrix and David.
My paternal birth family hails from mostly Arecibo and Utado, Puerto Rico. My paternal surnames are Rivera, Juarbe, Serrano, Gonzalez, Lopez, Correa, Rios, Roldan, Ortega, Urdaz, Medina, Viruet and Miranda.
My maternal history is basically German, along with some Irish.  My mother Linda Elizabeth Reyalt, 1935 – present was born in New York.  At present, she is in a facility in Florida.
On her paternal side, she is the granddaughter of Henry Reyalt & Augusta Ohrich [circa 1878]. They hailed from Germany and show up on the 1910 US Census. Here they both give their immigrations years as 1894 for Henry & 1900 for Augusta ‘Gussie’ as well as claiming ‘Naturalized’ status. They made their home in Brooklyn.
On her  maternal side; she is the great granddaughter of Patrick Sylvester Durkin & Katherine Sweeney [circa 1852 – 1914] both of Mayo Ireland and Philip Ochsenreiter & Katherine Liesenbein [circa 1848 – 1904]. Patrick & Katherine S reported their arrival from Mayo, Ireland to New York city in 1861. At some point after she was widowed, Katherine S relocated to Chicago, Illinois.  Philip & Katherine L originally hailed from a small town, Freinsheim in the district of Bad Dürkheim in Rhineland-Palatinate, Germany. They migrated to the New York City area arriving on June 24, 1853 on the ship, The Mary Annah. The ship last departed Le Havre, France before it ended its journey on our eastern shore here in New York. She is the the granddaughter of John Ochsenreiter of New York & Katherine E. Durkin of Pennsylvania [born approx 1875, showing up last on the 1930 US census]. They too resided in Brooklyn, NY.
Finally she is the daughter of Walter Reyelt & Isabel Ochsenreiter [circa 1911 –  2003]. Practically her last 8 years she would spend as a widow relocating to Florida.
My My maternal surnames are Reyelt, Ochsenreiter, Durkin, Ohrich, Liesenbein, Sweeney, Dyra, Hofmann, Armbruster, Neyland, and Neiland.
My parents had a total of five children together, in birth order;  Debra Rivera 1957 -2102, Israel Rivera 1958 [stillborn], Joseph Rivera 1960 – present, this author 1963 – present, David Rivera 1966 – 2009.
My tree continues to  populate because of the dedication of another DNA cousin who has even collaborated with George P and she has become more than just a DNA cousin; Yasmin M. is always there as sounding board, a friend and trusted confident.
There are MANY other DNA cousins along the way that have added in great information, shared their family trees, outlined relationships, shared family folklore, gave me roots. Too many to mention here a few off the top of my head …. Karen, Tracie, Roberto, Yolanda, Sylvia, Eric & Emilio, Daniel, Cesar, Martin, Patrick, Teresa, Chastity, Ana, Sofia, Cyndia, Becky, Heriberto, Annette, Peter, Joe, etc. too many to mention!!
From the depths of my heart THANK YOU ALL!!
More details to come – this is the general post so far!!
For those  still looking; DON’T GIVE UP!!!
5.9.17 – Update – I have updated / altered this post to reflect a genealogy spin to it. I cannot honestly say this is a hobby and leave things the way they were. I added in names, dates and places of those that came before me.  Those that have given me a history I can call my own. They gave wings to my tree and it is soaring.

Uncharted Waters

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Yes, this blog is about my search – but my search started when my adoptive mother was on her death bed 24 years ago. My sister; also adopted, and I found our adoption paperwork. It was, I thought at the time, the key leading to all my answers.

It was not my key I held; but my sisters. It held her name and from there her truths would unfold. Almost 22 years ago, I was able to give her the gift of her biological family. I had connected some info on an adoption bulletin board on AOL. That first contact find was made in the middle of the night and I had to wait until at least 7:30 AM before I could share this my sister, JA. I don’t remember if I even slept. I remember she wasn’t as keen on finding her family as I seemed to be; but she wanted her truth. She found out her truth and so much more. She learned of a family that had always been searching for her. 

The post on AOL was a maternal aunt searching for her and a full brother that had always been looking. Hours passed in the day before I was able to catch up with JA and find out what had transpired when she had spoken to her aunt. 

JA had another large family. There were several  siblings, the paternal side practically tripling the maternal side. I think 7 or 8 paternal siblings, one full brother and 2 maternal siblings. 

Well, there’s a brief history; but why am I sharing this. I am in ‘Unchartered Waters.’ You see, one of JA’s paternal siblings, a sister younger by about 16 months, Trish, is leaving this world momentarily. She has fought the good fight against pancreatic cancer and some other complications. Trish will be leaving this earth a loving and brave soul with cherished memories of her left behind. I really didn’t know her at all; but I am plagued with these thoughts and emotions.

  • This isn’t my sibling, but I am so truly saddened.
  • How do I help my sister, JA?
  • How can I be there for her?
  • What can I do to save her from this pain when I cannot share it the same way?
  • No matter what had transpired with us, drifting apart and coming back together nothing would / will ever stop me from protecting her.

Memories from childhood and memories from adulthood creep into my mind . Memories of me stepping up to be there, support and even protect JA. Memories of JA always being there for me. Memories of experiencing the sadness of death of family members when we were young and so were they.

We were there, as much as children can be there, for the rest of the survivors. We were bereft because we too had lost them forever.  We were much younger than those that had fallen from this place of the living. Maybe too young to be able to really express ourselves. We were mourning our cousins, aunt, uncle and grandparents. They were more than family; they were our lifeline after our parents, sometimes our protectors, our confidants, our friends & playmates; they were our beloved.  

Final thoughts

  • Appreciate the here and the now!
  • Reach out and let those important to you know, they make a difference to you!
  • Let those you care about know they are important!
  • Take a moment for yourself, take a deep breath and enjoy a moment just for you! 

To you, my dear reader, I say thank you for letting me share this slightly off topic post.

 JA always my #1 sister, my friend, my go-to, and so many more things that  are too long to list; but if you are a sibling, then you know the list! And thank you for being you; you mean the world to me and make my world better!!!!

♥♥♥♥