Small Town

So, I'm using my precious spare time to collect documents for our next adoption. Ethiopia, here we come. Will cover that in another installment, though. So anyways, when one does a foreign adoption a homestudy and dossier is required. Technical names for lots of official and not-so-offical papers that take a LOT of spare time to generate and/or collect. Birth Certificates for both parents and the Marriage Certificate are needed. And if you happened to be lucky enough to be born or married in New York State...well good luck. Many exceptions and vague 'rules' apply in obtaining these. But since we've walked this path before, with the acquisition of our Mei from China, I remembered that there was some difficulty involved! And that's all I remembered... I finally figure out that I needed to call the town clerk of where we got married for that certificate. 13 years ago... wow.

Feeling quite pleased with my sleuthing skills, I dial the long distance number. As it rings, and is promptly answered after only 1 ring, I picture the grey cedar building of the town hall in my mind. "Hmmmm. Home," I think, even though it's NOT home anymore. Actually startlingly different from what I have to call home now. But anyways, I tell the woman on the other end that I need some certified copies of our MC and she asks if they are for a foreign adoption. I tell her "yes" and she asks for my maiden name and my husband's name. Once I give her my maiden name I think "I bet there's a decent chance that I know this woman or at least mom does..." But then "Nah. Fairport has grown and there's so many new people." She goes on to explain that I need to send a letter of request, but she will have the copies ready to send out as soon as my letter arrives. So nice!

I am about to hang up when the woman tentatively asks "Are you David's sister?" Oh my gosh...she does know me. "I am" I say proudly. I can hear her voice crack as she says "I'm sorry". Instantly my eyes tear up, my throat closes, I picture my sweet older brother, and I say "Thank you. I appreciate that." An awkward pause occurs before we both hang up. I believe in those couple of seconds that this nameless, faceless woman and I were more connected than two people standing a foot apart saying "hello". I should have had faith that she would know me. I love that she knows me even though I'm gone. And I miss my small town.