by Emelia Rose

Created on: November 10, 2008

One humid August morning two weeks before her 19th birthday, my daughter

Stephanie woke and went into my first floor bedroom of our A-frame house.

She sat at the wooden computer desk and signed onto the internet.

I walked into the bedroom to say "Good Morning".

She turned to me, hair pulled back, "I want to find my real dad. Do you remember

anything"?

For years I told her that I didn't remember much about him only his name and where he

originally grew up. As I stood over her with her long thick eyelashes looking at me from

her heart-shaped face, I knew the time had come.

Her long skinny fingers did their magic over the keyboard as she clicked onto a couple

web sites. The same name, number, and address popped up on each site. "I'm calling"

Stephanie said nervously with cell phone in hand. She dialed the number and a man

answered on the other end. She explained to the receiver who she was trying to reach.

Silence... she mentioned my name and suddenly started to sob like a baby. "I can't believe

I found you". Her muscular shoulders shook and her voice quivered. I reached

for her phone and took over. Her father was so excited to hear from her. He explained

how he had tried to find us and how happy he was that Stephanie wanted to know about

him. Within the hour she had a plane ticket to Florida, where he lives.

Stephanie is my oldest child of three and I always felt a part of her was missing. She

was born to a different father than her two siblings. With her brown curly hair, dark

brown eyes, olive colored skin, full lips, long elegant neck, 5'7" muscular frame, and

the features of her Puerto Rican heritage, she is the complete opposite of her Irish brother

and sister. She doesn't remember her biological father but has always wondered where

he was.

Stephanie's father and I were young and we lost contact with each other for the

first 14 months of her life. He didn't even know she existed until we bumped into each

other one night at a Club in South Jersey where we grew up. The very next day he came

over and stood in my living room with his mouth wide open from shock. She looked just

like him.

Then we lost touch for 15 years and Stephanie decided it was finally time to find her

father. She had been raised decently by her step-father but they never really got along.

Her temper always got the best of her.

Since then she has been to Florida twice and has gotten to know her father. I have

never seen my daughter happier and so full of life. She feels complete and shares her

happiness with everyone. Her father's family has welcomed her with open arms and she

feels fortunate to have them in her life. My heart is filled with love and I am thrilled for

her newfound family.

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