"Our Gala Affair"

Years ago, when I was happily married and still an obedient wife, I had my "Most Embarrassing Moment".

My husband worked in the marketing department of one of Canada's leading gas companies. He was responsible this particular year, for coordinating the annual awards night at one of Edmontons best hotels.

It was to be a gala affair so I purchased a beautiful blue silk dress, a little bling bling and I looked marvelous! My husband wore his best, a beautiful brown suit that I loved. He was quite dapper! Together, we shone, a handsome couple!

The seating arrangements at dinner were such that I was seated beside the President of Marketing and his lovely wife was beside my husband. We dined, we danced, we drank, we blew our own horn!. It was all politically correct and oh, I don't know contrived. We applauded the awards and speeches - rah!rah! And then desert.

Everyone retired to the mezzanine for cigars and after dinner drinks. A social mixer, schmoozing, congratulations and working the room. The evening was proving to be a big success and my husband was soaking up the accolades on a "job well done"! He was rightfully proud of all his hard work putting the event together. After all, the "big boy's" were here from head office.

I spotted my husband across the room and drink in hand I strolled over to him, sidled up to him from behind and pinched his butt - hard. As soon as my fingers dug into his ass, I realized this was not the firm ass I had been hanging onto in moments of ecstasy for many years, oh, no, this soft, fleshy skin between my fingers did not belong to my husband! My jaw dropped as the gentleman, whose ASS I HAD JUST PINCHED, turned around and said to me "Would you like to dance"?

It was the President of Marketing and his lovely wife was right beside him!!!. He was wearing the exact same suit as my husband, same height, same dark hair, same well manicured profile and I was two Appleton's out of focus!

I said, Oh My God, I'm So Sorry!. From that moment, I don't remember what happened really, I found my husband, told him what I had done and spent the rest of our "gala affair" in our hotel room crying. Seriously, all I wanted to do was die.

Her Secret Need Not Be...

I was born in Saskatchewan to an unwed mother of eighteen years of age. My mother kept me for a couple of years, struggling with motherhood and the times. After all, it was 1953, and she was single and a Catholic.

My mother kept me for a couple of years and found it too difficult and moved to Calgary and there, she gave me up for adoption. I was almost three years old.

All my life, my thoughts were threaded with my birthmother and her life. I registered with Parent Finders and hoped that my birthmother or her family would find me.

Eleven years passed and in 1993 I recieved a call from Parent Finders, they had a match for me! It's not what I expected - I have a sister, born in Calgary, three years younger, with all her fingers and toes! What a shock! We are both born in October, (14th & 18th), both raised in small towns in Alberta and we each have a sister seven years older and with the same first name! Can you believe that?!!!!

We exchanged pictures, letters, photo's and telephone calls and shared our life stories of adoptive parents and family members. We were chosen by loving parents who gave us unconditional love and support. My new found sister expressed concern about our birthmother, and wasn't sure she would like to meet her or know anything about her. She didn't want to hurt her adoptive family. I understood that feeling very well and respected it.

In March of 1995 I went for my annual physical and found cancer. It resulted in surgery and recovery. This precipitated my search for our mother, for health reasons and unanswered questions.

Who is she, is she alive, how has her life been? Where did I get my looks, my mannerisms, my warped sense of humor, my talents or lack thereof? Since finding my sister and learning that she was born in Calgary, I looked in the Henderson's Directory for 1994. There were two listing with the last name I had at birth. I called them both and the second call found my step-grandfather. He was my grandmothers second husband and told me I was called "Pinky". He had all kinds of information for me. Funny thing, he had just arrived at the number I called a half hour earlier - just visiting from Saskatchewan! Well, guess what???

My mother is alive and living in Calgary!!! My birthmother had married a few years after my sister and I were born. She was recenlty widowed and has two daughters! More sisters!

Our mother didn't tell anyone about her second born daughter. She was pregnant with my sister when she moved to Calgary and gave my sister and I up for adoption at the same time. She kept it a secret all these years, never speaking to anyone about her second daughter. Her husband and daughters didn't know about either of us. Her other family members never told them and they didn't know anything about my sister!

On Mother's Day 1995 I spoke to my mother for the first time since being adopted. We laughed, cried and shared our lives in a nutshell, both relieved at each other's good fortune all these years. She expressed concern for her secret and I respected that wish. We agreed that we would meet and speak to each other again, in the near future. I didn't mention to her that I had found my sister, I wanted our mother to myself and I was afraid to scare her away. It was an emotional time, and I also knew that my sister would have been very upset, although I had asked her if she would like to know if I found her. She wasn't sure, so I kept it to myself.

On September 13, 1995 our birthmother passed away. She had actually gone back to Saskatchewan for the first time since she left with me to Calgary. She was with her family when she died from a massive heart attack.

On the eve of our mothers funeral I asked the funeral director for a private viewing. I sat with her, held her hand and said goodbye. I pray she heard me thank her for my life, tell her that she had made the best decision for me, that she was the grandmother of four amazing grandchildren. She died with her secret, not knowing that her other daughter was alive, well and happy. I wanted to tell her so many things, that she should be proud of what she did, that there is no shame, only strength in the decision she made. That her secret need not be.

My sister and I attended our mothers funeral anonymously. My sister and I met in person for the first time and it was both a celebration and a time of mourning, we quietly joined our mothers family and friends and wept for their loss. We didn't know her but we were together.