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A letter from my father on my 16th birthday.

July 18, 2007 By pia

 

The first letter was written by my Dad. I was a sulky, despondent teenager without a good word to say about anybody or anything. On the other hand, I cared passionately about causes and was cute

Though not as cute as I was in my father’s famous to some letter upon adopting me. As you can see he was a bit more enthused in the second letter.

Though later I would proudly call my parents my friends.

I never called him “Pa” in my life. Loved to call my mother “Ma.” things. The thought was repugnant.
July 16

Happy Birthday dear Pia

Wishing you a happy 16th year—not only on July 19th but for the whole year—and always.

Tradition has it that the 16th birthday is a sort of milestone in a young girl’s road of live. I suppose it is so. We are both very happy for you–and for us because you are a lovely girl.

The past 16 years have been very good for our family. We had good health, enjoyed many things and had good times together. Of course there were disagreements between us–but looking back, they were minor and unimportant–part of all of us growing up.

Mom and I love you very much and are very proud to be your parents. You have brought us much happiness–and are looking forward to the next 16 years. W have tried to direct and give you the experiences which we thought would better prepare you for this kind of world

We know that you are kind, gentle and have a good heart–and we love you for it

Fortified with this kind of character we are expecting a beautiful future for you.

You were a pretty baby, a good baby and a happy baby. You gave us so much pleasure watching you grow to a beautiful lady…..graduating from high school, then perhaps college, than along the way–marriage then children. Of course there will be pebbles, rocks and holes along the road—but we hope that you are prepared for them—and Sweetie pie, lots and lots of love and kisses.

Mom and Pop
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

don’t know exactly what to call this story, or really where

to begin. Suppose that I start near the end which is a

new beginning,— for Marion and me.

The phone rang at 8 p.m. on Wednesday, November l5th. It was

our caseworker. We were waiting 4 years for this call at

last it came. She told Marion that there is a little baby girl, who is ready for adoption. Marion gripped the phone tighter,

her heart beat faster,– she let out a soft “oh”, I gathered

what the call was about, we had to sit down to control ourselves -— Marion whispered “It’s a girl” — we smiled at each other, and words were non-existent. But we both knew that we were glad that it was a girl. As a matter of fact, we realized right then and there that we really preferred a girl. The agency had asked us several times, at different interviews, whether we preferred a boy or a girl — but we never gave a definite preference.

The caseworker told us that the baby is about 3~2 months old, weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces at birth, and had fair features. She asked us if we would like to meet the baby and get acquainted with her. We readily agreed, and arranged to meet the caseworker, tomorrow at 10 a.m., at the New Rochelle office. The whole conversation lasted a minute, her voice sounded as if she was very pleased in giving us this news.

That night — sleep was out of the question. We knew that something great was going to happen to us. Our thoughts were about the baby

ys remain that way. Now, we were in the process of adding another to us. What could this baby add to our happiness? — could there be more happiness than we have experienced? Perhaps we are inviting heartaches or aggravation! Do we really want a baby? We did not have one of our own – so we applied to a child adoption agency. This was almost 4 years ago. After filing applications, having many interviews, and having our home life studied by a case­worker, we have finally been accepted as suitable people to adopt a child. The phone call told us that they have selected s possible baby for us. Now,,, that the process of waiting and interviewing has ended, and the adoption appears close to

reality – the question on our minds, was do we really

want to go through with it? This question and others kept us tossing from side to side all during the night.
Morning finally came. It was a bright, sunny, fresh, Indian summer day. We had breakfast in a hurry. We stopped at the drug store, and bought a large rattle for the baby — we felt that we just had to bring something for the little girl.

Our car ride to New Rochelle was slow and thoughtful — at one moment glad, — and another doubtful. Question marks began to fill our minds again. What kind of a baby is she? —.fat, skinny, funny looking, good looking? Will we like her? — will she like us?? How will we be introduced to each other? Where is she kept now? — perhaps in a hospital or in an institution. When will we have to make up our minds whether or not to accept her?

We arrived at the office promptly at 10. The caseworker greeted us pleasantly and made us comfortable in a small room. She brought in a file, and using its contents as a guide, told h us more details about the baby’s background.

Some of the physical and educational details of the baby’s father and mother were told us. Also, some information about the grandparents, and the brothers and sisters of the parents. Then, we were told about the baby —-

The baby is in good health, lively, completely bald, blue eyes, chubbyish, very fair skinned, — and a special comment was made that on back of the baby’s head, is a large birthmark which may go away completely, or be covered by her hair. She informed us that the baby has been kept in a private home since birth, and was kept by a very capable woman, who has two teen-age children of her own. We listened intently. We felt fine hearing

all this, — and our anxiety to see the baby was reaching the

point of impatience.

Marion, I and the caseworker left the office at about 11, and in 15 minutes we arrived by cab in front of the house. It was an old, large, pleasant looking wooden house, situated back on a beautiful lawn of grass and trees. There was a porch along the whole length of the house. Marion and I always liked a porch on a house. The woman of the house came to the door and invited us in. The caseworker introduced us to her and the usual formal greetings were exchanged. The house was well kept and clean. It was really homey, neatly furnished with pretty curtains. The large foyer had a stairway leading upstairs, and a spacious living room adjoined the foyer. The foster mother went upstairs to prepare the baby while the caseworker ushered us into the living room.

————- The seconds seemed like years, our hearts began

to beat fast — we were excited. The question marks be;-an to haunt us again. What will we say to the baby?/ Will we meet her in the crib? What could we see through the bars? Is she

asleep? Will she cry? smile? What should we do???—-

Our mental gymnastics were interrupted by the footsteps of the

foster mother coming down the steps – and as she came into

view — we saw her carrying the baby. She was walking towards

us —- Our hearts stood still…. Nothing in us moved….

we were frozen— the baby was starring at us………….

…. Her caseworker broke the silence, telling us to take the

baby. Vie dazedly looked at each other Marion took the baby

in her arms — The caseworker ad foster mother left the room.

………………………. We were alone.—-

She was a beautiful baby, – her blue eyes pierced our hearts.., she seemed like such a good baby. We loved her immediately, — we were thrilled by her — she smiled at us, – and we cried inwardly. Such joy we have never experienced, or ever antic­ipated. The baby was in complete command of the situation, and

was at ease. She kept on smiling, kicking, and gooing WE

were frozen with happiness afraid that anything we may say

or do will melt some of it…….. She finally made us smile

back at her, coo to her, and play with her. We were warming up

to each other — and a little more at ease. I took the baby

from Marion and held her in my arms an exquisite sensation

went through my body — she was so warm, easy to handle, so Clean, so smooth, so very good. We talked and played with her — and she seemed so pleased,., she smiled continuously. We remembered the rattle, and gave it to her. She looked at it, but was not able to grasp it — we realized that it was too large for her— that she was only a little baby — we laughed heartily,— and, she laughed with us. We were having such a good time. We were

enjoying each other immensely we held her on our laps, then

over our shoulders, then we held her together, we patted her, we squeezed her, — she was so wonderfully cooperative — she,

knew that we were inexperienced…. but, she tolerated us

we were positively sure that she approved of us Time appeared

to have reversed itself,— the minutes seemed like seconds.

We kept on admiring the baby, What a good little baby] What a nice little baby What a wonderful little baby

Finally, after half an hour, the caseworker and foster mother entered the room, and they seemed pleased that the 3 of us were absorbed in each other. We told them what a wonderful time we

were having. The foster mother took the baby, and we

squeezed and patted the baby good-bye —– our eyes followed

the baby up the stairs. The caseworker asked us what we thought

of the baby — and, in no uncertain terms we said, that we

liked her very, very much… that she was a cutie-pie.

She suggested that we go back to the office. Vie took the rattle and left.

All the way back to the office we were remarking over and over again, what a happy baby she was, and that she seemed like such a good baby, also, that she was such a pretty baby —even without any hair — simply a picture of a doll. The caseworker asked us what we thought of the birthmark on the baby’s head. We admitted that we did not even look for it — it seemed so unimportant, and that we Here so busy playing with the baby.

Back at the office we were asked if we would like to see the baby again, so that we could get better acquainted; and thereby,

help us decide whether she is the baby we want…… Marion

and I answered at the same time “We only want that is baby, and we feel that she wants us.” The caseworker asked us if we are

sure of it — and in a chorus we gave a definite “YES”, and

that we want her as soon as possible. She wanted to know if vie
â– Here prepared to have things ready for the baby over the week-end.
We replied “That we were impatient and would prefer taking the
baby the next day, if possible.” “That we would spend the next
2h hours concentrating on getting things for her.”‘- ……

………………….. The caseworker smilingly agree d, — we

could have the baby tomorrow- at 10 a.m.

We left for home at 12 o’clock noon,- we were happily excited.

The next hours were spent in making room for the baby, for her crib, chest of drawers, bathenette, carriage. We also, had to run around buying these things, for immediate delivery. All of this getting ready and buying things gave us a lot of pleasure. Our friends and family gave us excellent cooperation. Everything and everybody was wonderful.

All night long we kept thinking of the baby we talked abound

her into the night,. What a happy baby. What a good baby. Such
a nice baby…………………. •

Friday was a brighter and sunnier day,, the weather was beautiful, Our breakfast consisted of orange juice, and thoughts of the baby

—– that was nourishment enough. V/e took the suggested things

for the baby,, clothes, blanket, and bottles for formula–

we also took along a new, pretty little rattle.

Our car ride to New Rochelle was fast and impatient we were

anxious to see the baby to hold her again — to smile at her

— to pat her— Oh just to be with her again………….

We wondered! — will she “be the same as yesterday — will she smile at us — maybe she will cry — babies do cry! — we could not imagine her crying.

We arrived at the office again promptly at 10. She had us sign some papers and went with us in our car to the baby. We , arrived at the same Jetton time as the doctor did.

When Marion and I entered the house and saw the baby again,

—– the thrills came back, – she gave us a broad smile, —

raised her eyebrows,– kicked her feet, – and, waved her

hands excitedly,—– she hypnotized us.

The foster mother undressed the baby and the doctor examined her. She took the examination so well,— cooperated so beautifully, —

not a whimper out of her,– it was a pleasure to watch. Everything

was all right with her. The doctor showed us the birthmark, and told us that it should go away in time — it was really a very insignificant mark. After the examination the foster mother dressed the baby and wrapped her in a blanket. Marion took the

baby,——- and,——- such a thrill could not be explained —

— it seemed like a dream.

The ride home was one of ecstasy. The sun was shining its

brightest on November 17th, 19^0 —- it will so be recorded

in our diary….. The baby lay quietly on Marion’s lap, all

bundled up,— with her little face peering at us………

Slowly and peacefully, she fell asleep. We rode very slowly, –
— such pleasure an we felt should not be hurried. We were both
pleased, contented, and very, very happy. Everything around us
appeared calm and beautiful,— we spoke in quiet tones, —the

baby was sleeping. We discussed a name for her, and, decided

both to name her after/our fathers P and T, — we felt so

proud. All the way home we kept saying “She is such a good little

baby” — “Such a nice little baby” – “Such a wonderful little

baby” — ••…………… “When we arrived home, ———-

we were a family of 3, — Max,— Marion,— and PIA TANI SAVAGE.,
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aiGPQVUJqq0]

Filed Under: music, my parents Tagged With: my parents

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Comments

  1. brettbum says

    July 19, 2007 at 1:01 am

    Not sure if I understood you correctly, but I have been getting lots and lots of fake or spammy greeting cards via email lately myself.

    I haven’t really felt like investigating this one as I’m not interested in finding out what happens when I click the evil looking links. But I haven’t heard of any security experts talking about this one yet either.

  2. Jonathan says

    July 19, 2007 at 2:50 am

    Amazing post. I’m sat here on the train with a tear on my cheek 🙂

    One day I may find myself writing the same story about the first meeting with our children… it doesn’t seem real yet, and at the same time we know the end of our adoption road is racing towards us each and every day.

  3. Junebugg says

    July 19, 2007 at 3:50 am

    Haven’t visited in a long while, good to see that you’re still doing well. I haven’t had the spam problem (crosses fingers)yet; but that letter was beautiful.

  4. Marilynn says

    July 19, 2007 at 7:06 am

    what a lovely letter. It made me smile.

  5. Doug says

    July 19, 2007 at 9:09 am

    Happy birthday, Pia! Your dad was good at letters and you are at stories.

  6. Bone says

    July 19, 2007 at 10:29 am

    It’s beautiful. Every word is bursting with their real, raw, and overwhelming anticipation, joy, and happiness.

    My favorite lines:
    Time appeared to have reversed itself,— the minutes seemed like seconds.

    we could not imagine her crying

    Happy birthday, Pia Tani.

  7. G says

    July 19, 2007 at 11:25 am

    Happiest of birthdays, Pia.

    That is so special that you have those letters from your father. They are precious beyond any gift that you could receive. I love the way your father recounted everything.

    Your Sally Brompton for the year promises “enlightenment” (I’ve already put you in the free thinker category).

    L’chaim!

  8. Bone says

    July 19, 2007 at 11:30 am

    Also Happy Birthday today to George McGovern, George Hamilton IV, and Goose from Top Gun 🙂

  9. TonyG says

    July 19, 2007 at 11:42 am

    Happy birthday, Ms. Savage.

    I always enjoy reading your blog, though I don’t always comment.

    May your day be filled with the things you enjoy.

  10. Sar says

    July 19, 2007 at 12:35 pm

    Happy 719 Pia! Birthdays are the perfect time to wax sentimental and your post was spot on.

    Btw, I hope you’ll forgive the tardiness of this comment, but I have to mention your site looks absolutely amazing.

  11. EsotericWombat says

    July 19, 2007 at 12:41 pm

    I can only imagine what it must feel like for those beautiful letters to be about you.

    Happy Birthday, Pia.

  12. neva says

    July 19, 2007 at 12:44 pm

    WOW. what a story. and by that i mean “What a wonderful/amazing/joyous and heart-warming story”! beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

    your dad never sent the letter? that makes me sorry, too. but at least you finally have his words… and they are perfect.

    May this day — and every day — be filled with love and joy, dear Pia! xoxo

  13. steve says

    July 19, 2007 at 4:57 pm

    If one was for my son’s first birthday…uh disregard. I actually came here to see an NY insider’s view on the explosion.

    Hope all is well…

  14. Traveling Chica says

    July 19, 2007 at 5:46 pm

    Oh Pia, it’s amazing.

    I have no doubt that even though they missed out on seeing who you are now and how you interact with the technology they both looked forward to and felt too old to use, they would be proud of you.

    And I think it’s safe to say you got a love of writing from your Dad 🙂

    Happy Birthday!

  15. cooper says

    July 19, 2007 at 7:34 pm

    Happiest of Birthdays and thanks for sharing that with us. I like to think it’s with me but I know it’s “us”.

  16. dan says

    July 20, 2007 at 1:18 pm

    The best part is knowing the opinion of someone who’s opinion you really care about.

    And it’s that you’re perfect. 😉

  17. Diesel says

    July 20, 2007 at 1:22 pm

    That’s a sweet letter.

    My dad wrote me a letter on my 16th birthday. It said, “Mow the damn lawn, stupid kid.”

  18. Donald Douglas says

    July 20, 2007 at 5:27 pm

    Pia: Your parents love you so! That is a bittersweet post!

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About Me

I live in the South, not South Florida, a few blocks from the ocean, and two blocks from the main street. It's called Main Street. Amazes me too.

I'm from New York. I mostly lived in the Mid-Upper East Side, and the heart of the Upper West Side. It amazes me when people talk about how scared they were of Times Square in the 1970's and 1980's.

As my mother said: "know the streets, look out and you'll be fine."

What was scary was the invasion of the crack dens into "good buildings in good 'hoods." And the greedy landlords who did everything they could to get good tenants out of buildings.

I'm a Long Island girl, and proud of it now.
Then I hated everything about the suburbs. Yet somehow I lived in a few great Long Island Sound towns after high school.

Go to archives "August 2004" if you want to begin with the first posts.

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