Annaliese

Interview with my Mother, by Annaliese. Annaliese interviews her mother, a nurse, about adoption and her job.

Maggie May <3

In the early spring month of May 2011, my friend Laryssa and I went on a walk down West Shore Road in the little town of Salisbury. At least once a week I walked down West Shore Road to the falling down, unfinished shack with no running water that was actually a drunk old man’s home. “Yes, someone actually lives there,” I often said, “and his name is Mr. Gale.” Right down the road from Mr. Gale’s ‘house’ is an actual abandoned building which is nicer than his ‘house.’ The abandoned building looks like a building instead of a bunch of boards thrown into the shape of a box with a triangle carelessly slapped on top.

         

Mr. Gale has two middle aged blue ticked beagles chained up outside two extremely small dog houses. These little buildings are hardly big enough to even be called dog houses. I’ve never seen the dogs inside, nor have I seen them with food or water. Even worse, in my eight years of living in Salisbury I’ve never seen anyone, besides myself, give those dogs attention. Every time I went down to give them water, treats, and attention, the mommy dog and daddy dog were always so happy to see me; they were the sweetest dogs. They wagged their tales, with shiny eyes looking back at me. How could no one ever pay them any attention?

         

Since the mommy dog was always with the male dog she was ALWAYS pregnant. Her skin stretched in ways around her dog body that made it hard to tell if she was or wasn’t pregnant. She often looked tired and weighted down. Mr. Gale over breeds those dogs and it eats at my heart to see any animal in pain, especially from human mistreatment.

         

I did what I always did every other day; I took care of two dogs that had nothing, but weren’t mine. Part of my routine was to check for puppies in the dog house. I never found any, but I never gave up hope. On this day I took a deep breath and slowly and carefully reached into the dark, run-down dog house and felt my hand bump into a warm fuzzy ball of fluff. I gently grabbed it, not knowing what I would be looking at when it came into my sight. I was nervous; my heart was in my throat about to beat out of my chest. I looked down and in my hand was the best thing that I could imagine. It was a beautiful two-week-old, chocolate ticked, blue-eyed, baby beagle - she was perfect. With my fingers wrapped around this warm ball, something became completely clear. Right then I knew I would never let her go. I would love her forever and I would do everything I could to make her have the best life a dog could have. I would never let anything happen to her again.

I was so mesmerized by her big blue baby eyes that I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings. As I landed back in reality I realized that the door (if that’s what you want to call an old piece of barn wood attached to a cardboard box) was opening. Surprised, I turned around clutching the puppy even tighter than before. Mr. Gale walked up to me and the closer he got the more scared I became. “$500.00 for this little gal,” he muttered in a hung-over voice. “That one there looks like her grandfather. She’s a very rare breed of beagle. You can’t get one for a better price.”

Without even thinking, I threw out the words, “I’ll give you the $500.00, if you let me take her now and I will mail you the money.”

        

I was a 15-year-old typical teenager, who had no job and certainly did not have that kind of money. But I wanted that beagle and nobody was going to get in my way of reaching that goal. It was almost like an impulse buy. He agreed, handing me an address label, and I went home happier than ever with my new chocolate ticked beagle, Maggie.

         

I’m the one who took care of his dogs, so in my rule book (which is the only one I seem to follow) I had the right to take her without paying a cent. It’s true, I never did pay, but I doubt he ever noticed or remembered; he was always drunk. That day was the day I stole my best friend.

Special Connections

            On March 28^th, 2012 I went to the court house in Middlebury, VT for one of the most special occasions anyone could ever witness in their life - an adoption ceremony. The ceremony was for the most amazing nineteen-month-old, Moriah Isabella Baker.

            When I was six years old my mother now, Sarah Elizabeth Masi Kahrs, saved my life by bringing me down to the court house one sunny, but really windy, morning. That day, October 28^th, 1999, I was adopted by the best mother in the world. If Sarah didn’t adopt me, I don’t have a clue where I would be. All I know is I wouldn’t have the amazing life or family support I have today. I still see my birth mom and family. Of course I love them a lot, but they would have never been able to give me what Sarah has. By adopting me, I’ve become a proud successful young woman. Adoption saved my life.

            I’ve known Moriah since she was three weeks old and I see parallels to our experiences. I met Susana (Moriah’s foster mother at the time) when I began to babysit Moriah. She was in foster care at the time; Susana took Moriah in when she was 4 days old. Every time I walked into the house and saw them together, I could see the love and care they both had for each other.  Moriah and I have always had a special and very strong bond. I love her with all of my heart.

            Being an adopted child is different than being with your actual birth parents. It’s a lot of work and sometimes confusing and stressful. It’s also very hard to understand. Different people come in and out of your life all the time. This motivated me to always stick by Moriah’s side; I was never going to leave her, and neither was Susana. Moriah had a lot of people who loved and cared for her and stuck through with her until her adoption day. I wish only the best for my Moriah. I can’t wait to watch her grow into a beautiful young woman.

            Being in that court room brought back memories from my adoption day. I knew Susana was about to take on a big responsibility that a lot of people can’t handle. I teared up watching Moriah and her new mother sign that paper. All I could think about is the day I was sitting at that table with my mom signing that paper. I am so happy for Moriah and Susana; I wish them the best of luck and lots of love for them both. Watching Moriah being adopted made me want to save a child’s life and adopt a child of my own someday. 

So This Is What’s In My Bag

         When I was younger I always hated losing money. At the time, I made my money from washing dishes after dinner or raking the yard before lunch; lunch was always at 11:30 am. Before my bath I would dug my sticky five-year-old hands deep down into my pockets and took out the lint and dirt from my pockets. But something I never found was the money I made sure I put deep down into my pockets. I hated wallets and purses; I mean I was a rough, dirty, playful, little girl. I hated carrying things around that I had to keep track of. But I knew that one day I would have to grow up and get a purse, because I couldn’t afford to keep losing money.

2010 was the year I bought and began to use my one hundred and sixty dollar Vera Bradley purse, my “matches everything” big pink hobo style shoulder bag, my baby. At first I only had a wallet in my bag but I began realizing that there was more room. I started to take advantage of that space by filling it up with everything I may or may not need for the activity or event of the day. As long as I had my purse by my side, I was never unprepared. Some people are famous for their hair, their company, their looks, or even their actions. But for me, I’m famous for what is always inside of my purse.

Need some tampons? Got it! Need some eye drops? Here ya' go! I’ve been told I have anything you will ever need in your life right there in my bag. It started with just a wallet, but that wasn’t enough. I needed to add my whole morning routine which included hairspray, my Juicy Couture perfume, hair ties, hair clips, hair gel, earrings (just in case I lost one of mine during my day), cover up, Bath and Body Works “Twilight Woods” lotion, black eyeliner, black Cover Girl mascara, and of course my pink and white zebra print cell phone.  I still had plenty of space to fill, so I added crackers (just in case) and a water bottle. As I looked in my bag, space and options stared back at me so I included at least four or five pens and pencils as well as Crayola colored pencils. Next came extra socks and a scarf, and then I began carrying my medication. What else remained? I put in my cell phone charger, and then along came my iPod touch and its accessories. I had everything; I was never unprepared. That’s what’s in my amazing, well-loved and well-used purse.