Adoption Days

"I can't explain it. I just knew," I said, wondering if she now thought I was psychic, which of course I didn't believe in.

She flipped back her blonde hair, which was the same approximate length and color as mine. "I can't help it. He's just the greatest man I've ever met, but he doesn't know I exist," she confessed.

We chatted for a few minutes about how her dream guy was great at everything, except perhaps about not knowing how she feels about him.

"Men are so-o-o blind," we said, in unison, looking at each other a little surprised.

"You're not some relative of mine that I've never met, are you?" she asked, trying to guess how or why we think so much alike.

I took a second look at her and observed that we had the same type nose, and other similar features. We also seemed to think alike. These were all mere coincidences, of course, but it made us think a little bit in an attempt to rationalize these things.

"No, not related, I don't think. Well, maybe long lost relatives," I said, lightly.

"Maybe long-lost sisters," she replied, and with that, waved goodbye, saying she was in a hurry-probably to go shopping I realized. The silence lasted for a few minutes. In that time, the few doubts I always had about my childhood surfaced.

In a mission to put these doubts out of mind, I decided to drop by my parents' house on the way home from work. Deftly bypassing the usual conversation, I asked where the family scrapbook was kept. My father pulled it out of the linen closet, while my mother stood by, apparently confused by my request. I leafed through the pages, looking for proof. The scrapbook was full of memories, but none that I could remember. There were pictures of my brother and my two sisters (who live out-of-state), dressed in baby whites and yellows. They didn't seem too keen on blue or pink, from the pictures I browsed through. Or, perhaps because they didn't know what they were having, and women at the traditional baby showers gave them a stockpile of neutral colors.