Not a Baby

Before I introduce you to my mother’s maternal biological family, you might be wondering about how her adopted family is taking all of this news so far. My adopted grandparents, Bill and Mildred, were both deceased by the time our journey began, in 2001. I knew we would have had their blessing; we wouldn’t even have had to ask. My mom will always be their only daughter, and I their only grandchild, blood or not. Nothing can erase our time with them. They knew that, and so do we.

As I said in an earlier blog, The Baldwin branch likes to fondly recount about how they “ended up” with my mom.  You see, my great-grandmother, MiMi Baldwin, worked at Catholic Charities in Elmira– where my mom was placed in 1949. MiMi was there the day Mom was surrendered.  “A two-year-old little girl with big blue eyes and auburn ringlets is here”; my adopted grandfather, Bill Baldwin, recounts hearing from his mother over a phone call. “I think you and Mildred would just love her!”  My extended family all knows the story by heart. Deep down we all feel there must have been divine intervention that placed my mom in what was (in my biased opinion) the most loving family on the planet.

After my grandma Mildred died in 1991, my mother inherited some old journals that my adopted great-grandfather, Albert (Mildred’s stepfather), kept from 1943 to 1957. My mother did not seem very much interested in them, so I scooped them up to peruse what I thought was just the history of an old man. I was told there were mostly uninteresting facts about the goings on in Binghamton NY.  Weather forecasts, Albert’s prized roses, the daily grind at the EJ Shoe Factory, and all the dishes my great-grandmother, Irene, was trying out. There was an oyster casserole thing that really sounded awful, and by the way, Albert said it absolutely was.

“June 9, 1949– “Looks as if we might have a baby in the house and are to be grandparents.” Albert writes, “A deal thru Elmira for a 3 (she was actually just over 2) year old whose parents are going through college and can’t handle the youngster.”  The week in between the 10th^th and the 16^th were just a couple of updates about “the baby should be here soon” and then an entry on June 17. On this page he writes, “Well the baby is here, Nancy Baldwin, a cute and pretty child, very likable… came to me at once”. Can talk some, will have to wear my audible to understand her. Rather light, not a decided blonde, with blue eyes”.  “I asked the baby to come here and she reprimanded, “I’M NOT A BABY, I’M NANCY!”

My mom has always had resoluteness about herself. It’s palpable, charming and frustrating all at the same time. I’ll bet the Baldwins now thought so too.