Birth and Adoption

Where to begin the story of my faith journey? So many years, so many turns, a certain beginning, a known end (so far, at least), and an ocean of choices, experiences, and opportunities in between.

Well, one place to begin a story is . . . at the beginning!

I was born in 1965, on the second anniversary of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. I have always found it to be of some significance when I hear that people are born or died on a momentous or notorious anniversary of some sort. Despite this feeling, I do not yet know the significance of my birth on the anniversary of such a dark day in American history.

My biological parents remain unknown to me. What I do know is that my biological parents were of Welsh, Irish and Polish descent and that they were not married. That’s it. No more details are available. I was adopted shortly thereafter through the New York Foundling Hospital, a Catholic relief agency providing assistance to young mothers, children, and infants and sponsored by the Sisters of Charity Federation. I am told that the interview process was a long one and that my adoptive parents were asked many questions and had agreed to several promises as condition to bringing me home. Chief among these was to promise that I be raised in a Catholic home and taught to carry on the faith of my parents. More on that later.