2000

Ever since I knew I was adopted I thought about meeting my birth parents. All the regular questions filled my head:

“Who do I look like?”

“Who is artistic like me?” and the list goes on…

I made attempts at locating them after I was 18 but I nothing serious. One day I found the Alberta Adoption Registry. So I signed up. Less than 24 hours later a social worker called:

Her: “Hi, is this Alison Webber?”

Me: “Yes.”

Her: “Your birth mother is Maureen, she lives in Jasper and they are waiting for your call.”

Me: “ok”

Pertinent information was exchanged and I called her. Her and her twin sister were waiting for me to call. I don’t remember much of the conversation just that they had been searching for me and my dad was dead. Within a week my birth mother was on her way to the coast. We met at a restaurant in town. I didn’t ask what she was driving or any identifying information. I sat in my car and waited. Then she arrived. I knew right away it was her, without a doubt. We sat in the restaurant and weirdly enough it wasn’t like we were strangers. It wasn’t uncomfortable or strange it was like it had only been a few months since we had seen each other last. We drove back to Jasper together. Everywhere we went in Jasper the following happened:

“You must be Mo’s daughter!”

“Wow you look alike!”

Every friend of my dad’s that I meant the meetings went like this:

“Your mannerisms are the same. You remind me of Kelly.”

Followed by grown men and women crying.

Intense.

When we were done I took a greyhound bus back home.