23
FROM RAGS TO RICHES
The "Crime Bill," which extended the death penalty to a wider number of criminal offenses along with $8 billion for build- ing new prisons, was supported by Clinton, even though more severe sentencing in the last twenty years had continued to add to the prison population giving the U.S. the highest rate of imprisonment in the world. Clinton, in his desire to achieve a balanced budget, but not wanting to raise taxes for the rich or disturb the military budget, continued to sacrifice the needy, the elderly and the children. And so health care, education, food stamps and single mothers suffered. Apartheid was abolished in South Africa.
I wrote to the Bibliotheque Nationale for the Nurse's Association, where I hoped to get nurse P. Charron's address. In the 1961 hospital list she was the nurse at the Mount Royal Hospital. Another letter went to the Association des Hopitaux du Quebec and the Association des Centres Hospitaliers et des Centres d'accueil Prives du Quebec for my medical records, asking when the hospital burned down and for P. Charron's address.
A week later the Association des Centres Hospitaliers wrote that they couldn't find my records, the hospital or the nurse. They suggested I write to the Health and Social Services Ministry of Quebec, which replied promptly that the hospital closed in 1970 and they hadn't been able to trace any records with my name. They thought my file might be under my parents' names.
Valerie called because she was coming to Calgary for a sales trip in a few weeks and wanted to visit. We set a date for dinner at our apartment.
I received a letter from the Canadian Jewish Congress with a short biography on Dr. R. and a photo of the building at 4351 Esplanade Avenue known as the Doctors' Hospital. They knew that one of Dr. R.'s brothers had worked there but there weren't any news clippings pertaining to a fire. That day I wrote to Dr. R.'s son but never heard from him.
Towards the end of the month Valerie came to dinner. We took some photos around the table and talked about her daughter. There were tears when it was time for her to leave. I loved to see my daughter but was afraid and hesitant to be as loving as my heart cried out to be. I live in illusion as to the reality of our relationship.
I wrote to the Ordre des Infirmieres du Quebec (the Nurses' Association) for P. Charron's address and received, at the same time, the 1995-96 phone directory from the Bibliotheque Nationale with all the P. Charron addresses. The man with whom I had been corresponding had looked in the Montreal Lovell Directory of 1936 and found a Charron but she wasn't listed in the latest book.
The Association des Hopitaux du Quebec responded saying I should write to the Ordre des Infirmieres du Quebec, which I had already done. A few days later I received a letter from the Nurses Association saying they had in their records a Paulette Charron, retired in 1978, who could be the person I was looking for. Since all their information regarding their nurses was confidential the only way to reach her would be to prepare a message and send it to them to forward to her.
Dear Mrs. Charron,
I was horn on October 27, 1940 in Montreal, Quehec. Dr. Rabinovitch was the doctor who delivered me. I believe you were his nurse and the hospital was on St. Joseph Blvd., west, where the doctor also lived. I was named Renee by the couple who adopted me, Myer and Esther Rosenherg.
In my baby hook I have a picture of you holding me. I remember my mother speaking about how wonderful you were. At least I think it was you.
My parents have recently died and I am trying to find out about myself. My daughters are now having children of their own and I would like to he able to tell them my history. I was told that there was a fire and some of the records were lost.
I am fifty-five years old and have been searching for six years. I realize this happened a long time ago and if you have it in your heart to write to me, I would love to hear from you.
No response. I wrote the association again. They had sent my message but didn't know if it reached her. Another closed door. Always searching, needing to know more, I made an appointment with a psychic doctor in Calgary who told me to get rid of my anger.
You always knew about your adoption, you set it up and all the energy around it is dissonant energy. It's not harmonious and when you begin to harmonize you will find that it's irrelevant. The things that distress you most you have to let go or just try to detach from them. Those are things that trap you in trying to face things that have no relevance. So if you just assume that you knew, whatever you need to know will come at the right time. In the meantime you'll work on preparing to be a vessel, then you will find that it will focus you in your path. Once you try to focus on this and that, you won't move as quickly. Those are what the Hindus call maya or delusions that trap us in the process. Observe something and don't try to analyze it. To accept it, say you're upset and have difficulty with your adoption. Whatever you are to understand, time will understand it. That's the hardest decision. When true enlightenment comes it doesn't come at your schedule, it just happens. But you have to prepare yourself to await that enlightenment. All you have to do is raise your con- sciousness and you will automatically connect at that higher con- sciousness because your birth mother is half of you. She has your genetic makeup so it's very easy to do that. You carry your mother's blockage between your heart and solar plexus. All your emotional difficulties are with your mother. Send love to the person you dislike most. Our enemies sometimes teach us more than our friends. If you get stuck in the anger and resentment, then you enter the cancer frequencies. Convert that energy into love and light. If you do, then you do not carry resentment. Let go of your resentment. Hate is just energy; light and love will cure the energetic.
Dr. Rickhi, Calgary, February, 1996
A few months before I finished working on my father's estate, I received a letter from Beverly's lawyer, a relative of hers, asking impatiently when she would get her money. I was furious and answered with a crisp letter saying things like this took time and I was surprised that, being a lawyer, he didn't understand that. I didn't hear from them again. Finally, after working on my father's records for almost a year, paying outstanding bills, answering correspondence and having his taxes done, I sent checks to everybody in his will. It was a happy day for me to get to the end of my debt to him.
Steve was busy still editing the movie, and because living in Calgary made airport access easy, I decided to fly to the coast to see my granddaughter. The flight was beautiful, the sky clear, and the Rockies thrilling from that perspective. Valerie picked me up at the airport, drove to the daycare center to get Caroline who, cranky and confused about her interrupted schedule, dozed on the way home. She was so cute, so very blonde. We slowly became friends and for three days played and laughed together. She reminded me of myself, especially her dimpled eyebrows, expressive of a mixture of pain, loss and love. I returned to Calgary gratified in my latent longing for a bloodline which my granddaughter fulfilled for me.
The film was completed. The work of selling it was ahead and since it didn't necessitate our living in the city, we blissfully returned to our wilderness cabin. It was April 7th when the creek melted and the muffled gurgle of spring runoff could be heard. Another long winter gone, the start of mud season, bright, green, tender dandelion shoots, water close by to fill our jugs, a crisp clarity to the air, and the fresh smell of new beginnings. Spring fever. Valerie called