There’s nothing like a little mystery to get the genealogy bug amped up…

You may need a whiteboard and some note cards (maybe an adult beverage, too) to keep up with this; I didn’t create the drama, but I’m determined to figure it all out! Although most of the people involved are dead at this point, I’m hoping you take it for the spirit it’s meant in – not in judgment, jest, or criticism – only just finding out facts.
 
I was adopted at birth by James Gordon Roper, born 1904 in Indiana, and Marjorie Kirkwood, born 1916 in Wyoming. (To avoid confusion we’ll leave my birth parents out of this).

In the adoption papers I have from my mother’s files, my father had been married twice before, and my mother once. I had the names of all the spouses and approximate dates of their marriages; there were no listed children from this marriage (however there was a stepchild mentioned from marriage number two).

My father had a son with a woman out of wedlock, born in 1949. Gordon was born blind and severely mentally handicapped, due to his premature birth. At the age of 7, he was transferred into the California State care program and lived in institutions or care facilities for the remainder of his life. He died in 2021. I consider Gordon my half-brother, although the exact determination is unclear (my genealogy relationship calculator considers him my brother, although there is no blood relation due to adoption).

When Gordon died his case worker was kind enough to send me a few medical records that had been archived from his file, however, they only really covered his admission into the program; nothing further after 1960 was sent. Recently, I took the time to actually read through the documents and found some interesting details and tidbits in the notes.

When my father took Gordon to the original facility, admission paperwork reported he had been married twice; the first ended in annulment and the second in divorce. This wasn’t news to me; however, he also states he married when Gordon was about 3 years old and there was a child born from this marriage when Gordon was about 3 ½. Statements made in the report are

The first marriage was annulled and the second marriage ended in divorce after 5 years. A child was born in this 2^nd marriage. 

One half-brother living, ‘normal’. (Not my words, but it's written that way in the report)

Dad married again when Gordon was about 3 years old.

So basically, my dad married Wife #1 in 1931, Wife #2 in 1944, and my mom Dec 1959; and had a relationship with a woman he never married, but had a son with in 1949.

That looks pretty clear until you start to fill in the dates of marriages and births of children. I’ve written this out several different ways, but I finally sat down last night and taught myself how to do a timeline on Google Docs (thanks YouTube!) for it to make more sense.

Still with me? Good!

IF my father indeed married a woman when Gordon was 3 ½, that marriage would have taken place in roughly 1951-1953, and the unknown male child would have been born sometime in that time period as well. However, thanks to California’s vital records, I can’t access divorce or annulment documents before 1966. I’m working on it, but it’s not available on Ancestry or Family Search so I’ll have to talk to people or do a records request through the California court system. This requires I know the county where the divorce proceeding took place. Assuming it's LA County, that shouldn't be too bad. But if they got divorced in another county, or maybe even took it to Reno...

My dad's marital status is listed as "Separated" in the 1950 US Census of Los Angeles County. My brother Gordon is living with him, born in December (less than one-year-old at the time of the census). UNDERNEATH my father's name and above Gordon's name are two names, both lined out. "Wife", "W" (white), "F" (Female), "Mar" (married), and "Iowa" (place of birth) are also lined out.

Pauline is Gordon’s mother and was still married to her husband; she remained married to him until she died in 1983.

“Betty”, I believe is Elizabeth Coombs, wife #2. However, my father lists himself as “Sep” (separated) with “Mar” crossed out. Elizabeth is listed at a separate residence in the 1950 census, with her son Philip (b. 1942). She is the head of household and “D” (divorced). Elizabeth was born in Iowa; the age and occupation match that of the marriage record I have for my dad and Elizabeth in 1944.

So, here are the possibilities:

1) Elizabeth & dad were still married, however, divorced before December 1959 (possibly by 1950 if he lists “Separated” on the census). Elizabeth remarried in 1960 to Mr. Lyman.
This would mean Philip is James Gordon Roper’s son, however, he doesn’t have the Roper last name; AND this doesn’t add up with the age of the child, and the marriage information given in the admission paperwork in 1958.

2) There is another male child, born roughly 1951-1953 from a relationship with another woman (no marriage). I have been unsuccessful in finding birth records for this child using the surname Roper and the birth years. My dad married my mom in December 1959.

3) Elizabeth Coombs and my father had a child together, making Philip the stepchild referred to in the adoption paperwork I referenced earlier. Perhaps Elizabeth and Dad reconciled and remarried in 1951-1953, then divorced? Perhaps she changed the child’s surname after the divorce, or did not list the father’s name on the birth certificate? I again, cannot find documentation for this marriage or birth.

Are there more possibilities? Am I overthinking this? Does it even matter as I'm not related by blood to this child? 

This is the detective part of genealogy that so many find addictive. It causes people like me to spend hours at libraries and family history centers, scanning through census records, newspaper articles, and microfilm for the smallest clue to clear up their ‘roadblock’. There’s a lot of head scratching, shrugging, and head shaking while we, the living, try to figure out the tangled webs of our relatives and ancestors without making ourselves crazy in the process.

Write your stories

Over the last few months as I’ve been talking to cousins, friends, and former co-workers; I've heard a lot of funny and fantastic stories. Some are from childhood or the past, others are terribly traumatic or sad, and some are romantic or heart-stopping in nature.

After I’ve listened, laughed, cried, or stared wide-eyed in awe, I always tell them "Write your stories.”

Why? Because those stories speak to people; maybe not everyone, maybe not in the same way, but they speak to people about your strength, your past, your sense of humor, and your fears.

Because your children, grandchildren, in-laws, and future generations of people (you may never know) need to know what life was like for you in your corner of the world, during your part of history.

People not yet born may want to know how hard (or easy) it was for you to find a job, live in an apartment, drive a car, get out of debt, rescue a pet, or marry your one true love. Life has changed drastically between 1916, 1963, and 2022; how people thought, talked, loved, lived, and survived gives others a sense of where they came from as well as why others are the way they are.

The story your father has told “a million times” may be old news to you, but someday, someone in your family may want to know more than the eye-roll information about the tale. Things get lost over the years in translation, memories fade, and purposes become unclear, but a written (or recorded) story lasts beyond memory and time. Think of all the letters and postcards you've found in boxes, attics, museums, or antique stores. 

As a genealogist, I love to hear the stories that people tell. Where they came from, what their parents told them (or didn’t), why they joined the military, how they met their spouse, and how they decided to name their children. I'm always tempted to whip out my phone or a writing pad and jot down the information, but then, they're not MY stories to tell.

Usually, the stories come out on their own, but if you’re interested in coaxing some out of the more introverted or reticent family members, start with a few basic questions: “When did you get your first car? What make and model was it? How did you pay for it?”

Or “How did you meet my mother/father? Where was your first date? Were you named after anyone in particular?"

Or maybe ask what school was like for them, how many houses they lived in, if they had siblings, what holidays were celebrated, and how.

What was their first job, and their favorite one? Do they remember what they earned? Did they save their money, spend it all at once, or help a parent/family member pay some bills?

Every family has a special vernacular; a language distinct to them. Nicknames, scrambled words, and funny phrases that are unique to each family that other people wouldn't understand. How did they evolve? What do they mean? Why was it so important to the family? 

You can write down the answers or encourage them to write them down (I’ve found most people are hesitant to do it themselves), or record them on your phone, and transcribe them later. Better yet, video the interview. You’ll get facial expressions, and a whole different medium type to pass on to future generations. (Of course, you should get their consent before you post on social media, blog, or a video channel). 

It doesn't matter if the grammar, spelling, or sentence structure is perfect. You don't have to verify facts (although you could certainly get someone else's viewpoint of the story to make it richer!), or correct misinformation. The point is to get the story down. 

So, the next time you’re out with friends or family, listen to that story one more time and write it down. Because the stories of our life are the stories for the future. 

 

 

Roper Family Heirlooms

Spending time scanning photos today.  

I'm trying to de-clutter and it took me YEARS to decide what to do with photos after I've scanned them.  Originally, I sorted and tossed the bad shots/multiples/unidentified persons photos, then scanned the rest.  Sometimes I scanned them myself, other times I sent them to Legacy Box (they didn't pay me for the mention; but I've been super pleased with their service and care for my photos.)

After I scanned them (or received the digital copies back), I'd label the digital copies, then toss the original photos in boxes sorted by family name.  So, I had 6 boxes of scanned photos, plus photos on an external drive because the sentimentality of throwing away family photos was too much for me.  

After over-thinking if for far too long, I finally decided to toss all the scanned photos EXCEPT the ones with historical value (the tin-types, or old b/w photos that have some unique value).  I also decided to back up my digital photos so that the external drive isn't my only copy.  I decided a free gmail account just dedicated to photos is what works for me; you may find another method.

This new 'system' lets me keep the photos that have antique and sentimental value but still clears up the boxes of photos that I kept 'just in case something happened'.  I'm not feeling like I'm throwing history away, but I'm also getting rid of the clutter.  Win-win!

My last post I shared about the Roper Furniture Company catalog and heirlooms; I found a few more photos today.  On the back of these photos were 'stories' about the pieces; written in my father's (J.G. Roper) hand. Some of the writing was covered by glue & paper, but I tried to get as much of the information as I could read.

The watch story:  "My father's watch and stand made <missing> Roper with gold chain. 2 - $5 gold pieces cuff-links and 1 - 2 1/2 gold as tie tack"  There is information about appraisal value in 1973.

"This Seth Thomas clock seven day included glass with silver. The clock was purchased 1871; Father gave it to his mother Bessie in 1945".  There are also some reconditioning notes and value.

"Grandfather clock purchased in Germany by grandfather.  Mr. Studebaker in 1868 and was town of Mishawaka clock time piece. In 1890 <covered>my grandfather (J.A. Roper)'s bank. in 1902 taken to the Roper Furniture Co.  In 1910 my father (Harry D. Roper) brought it to our home. Later, I, J. Gordon Roper had it overhauled completely."

Chair belonged to father's great Aunt and was her mother's from 1840.  Repaired and refinished with cane seat and back.

This antique oak table <missing> made by Roper Furni <missing> in about 1910 with a <missing> claw. Given to Mrs. Ornl (sp?) Stanford <rest is missing or unreadable>

I was thrilled to find these photos and the stories on the back!  However I *wish* my dad hadn't glued them into paper albums or had written the stories somewhere else.  Paper albums are not archival quality (who knew or cared about that back then), and well, if you write things on the back of the photo, then glue the photo to an album or something, the written words are pretty much lost.  

If you have photos that aren't digitized, get started on this project right now!  Not only does color and quality of the photos degrade with time, tragedies happen (fire, flood, etc.) and the names of the people in the photos fade from memory. Digitizing your photos makes them available for you and future generations to view -- providing, I suppose they have something compatible to view them with.  But I guess that's a worry for another generation.  

Thanks for reading!  

Roper Furniture Company

Roper Family, Long Beach House.  My dad James Gordon Roper is in the back, on the right near the pillar.

Today I received a comment on the blog about a piece of furniture from the Roper Furniture Company; it nudged me to dig out the digitized photos I have from that time in the Roper family history.

Growing up, to my knowledge, we had two pieces built by the Roper Furniture Company in the house.  One was a table and the other a grandfather clock.

J.A. Roper Home, Indiana

The Grandfather Clock is rumored to have been built for one of the banks in South Bend or Mishawaka, Indiana.  I've contacted a couple of historical societies there, but haven't had any luck verifying the truth of that rumor.  The family story says it was built and placed inside the bank for a number of years, then moved somewhere into the town square before moving into the Roper family home.  As the Roper Furniture Company moved from Mishawaka, IN to Dixon, IL at some point, and the family moved their residences as well, it's not clear at what point the clock moved into the private residence.

I do know the clock made the move to California when the family, for the most part, moved to Palo Alto.  And I do know that the clock was in my home in Hesperia, CA, moved to Oregon and finally to Washington with me. 

Roper Grandfather Clock, Hesperia, California

The table was in our home in California; unfortunately my mother sold it when we moved to Oregon.  If I'd realized the significance of the table at the time, I would have likely pitched a pre-teen fit in hopes that we could have taken it with us.  My father died when I was 12 and I hadn't yet realized the importance of history or family heirlooms or how much I would mourn the loss of a piece of my father's legacy.  You can't see the feet well in these photos, but they have "claws" on them. 

Christmas 1963

Christmas 1968

I remember as a young child finding that a bit scary, but as I got older they were just part of that table.  I had no idea how significant that detail was in the Roper line.  One of the things I found when going through old photos and boxes of memorabilia was a catalog from the Roper Furniture Company of their dining room furniture.  

Here's two of the tables with claw feet

And one more here.  

 Even the shipping costs from the time!  Wonder how that compares to shipping costs now!


















I also have an envelope I purchased from Ebay with the Roper Furniture Company Logo and postmarks from 1896, and a postcard with a drawing of the factory from 1909.

Thanks for letting me share these with you!  

Brave or Crazy

It's no secret I'm adopted; I'm fortunate that I have a lot of information on my birth family.  My (adopted) parents provided me with what they had and I've done research using the Internet and genealogy sites to fill in other gaps.  Quite a bit of my original search can be found Here and here.

I've written another letter or two to my birth mother, both have been returned unopened.  I have looked up her address on Google Maps, and have 'stalked' (in a totally non-creepy way) her in other fashions but have never met her, phoned her or attempted to contact her other than by letter. 

I have the obituary for John King Joyce (my birth father) and it's full of family information on his side; including a brother named Robert.  I looked up Robert several years ago (thank you Internet) and found his address; I have a phone number but decided against calling it.  I'm not comfortable on the phone and, I'd rather have an interaction -- no matter how embarrassing or uncomfortable -- in person than over the phone.  If they're going to slam the door in my face or be negative in some way, I'd rather take that in person than being hung up on by some faceless being across the phone lines.  Yes, I realize this is probably very strange and extremely crazy.

I decided that this trip to California would been the trip to 'just do it'; so I plotted the trip to the address. Nice area of California, near the Getty Center, well-maintained on the outside (I didn't take a photo).  Pulled into the driveway, parked the car, knocked on the door and stood back a couple of steps. 

A woman answered the door and was hesitant to speak to me; I asked if Robert Joyce was in, she asked if he was expecting me.  I responded that no, he wasn't but that I was the daughter of his brother, John.  She turned away from the door and went to speak to him, speaking loudly and repeating my name, asking if he knew me.  She returned to the door and I explained a bit more about who I was and why I was there.  She stepped away to talk to "his grandson" who said they didn't know who I was.  I asked to leave information and she accepted the hand-written sheet I gave her with name, address, phone number, birth date and some identifying information in case they wanted to contact me.  A young woman (I have no idea who) came back to the door and took the paper from me.  End of the adventure.

Possibly. I hope they attempt to make contact with me in the future, but even with all the information I have I will not contact them again unless they contact me.  It's not a deep seated need; more of a curiosity.

The first woman that answered the door was likely a live-in nurse.  The man she spoke to first could hear, but she raised her voice and spoke slowly so he is likely hard of hearing.  I'm assuming he's of semi-sound mind because she asked if he knew me or remembered me. 

The 2nd woman who came to the door was younger -- early to mid-20's -- and didn’t seem to be interested in taking the information I gave but took it nonetheless.  I have no clue if there was a family resemblance or not as I didn't get a good look at her and, to be honest I was pretty much internally freaking out.  It's been a long time since I've been that nervous -- I think the last time was when I was meeting Gordon for the first time.  

I'd still like to contact and meet my birth mother and my half-brother; but that will have to wait for another time and another moment of being brave.

Old Houses

Been vacationing in the LA area this week and as I've been driving back and forth between cities, my mind wandered to the family history filing cabinet in my brain.  My Roper family lived in Palo Alto, Long Beach and Los Angeles; my mom Marjorie lived in Downey before I was born.  I wondered if I could find the houses but couldn't remember the addresses.

My first test was to see if I could remember the location of my cousins' house from 30 years ago.  I told the GPS the address and sure enough, that was the house.  They live in a different house/area now but it was a bit rewarding to pull that dusty piece of information out of my half-a-century-old brain! 

So, that small victory in hand I pulled up my genealogy files to see if I could find addresses for the Roper homes.  Thanks to census records from the 1940 and earlier (1950's aren't available yet) I could pull up the addresses for 6 homes of the Roper family, including one for my Dad in Los Angeles and my mom (before she met my dad) in Downey. 

Thanks to the magic of technology, online realty sites and GPS, I plotted a route to see the 4 Roper homes in Long Beach; all along the waterfront. (I'm thankful my friend was up for a drive/walk before dinner!)

312 Roswell Avenue, Long Beach

Photo taken from Redfin

House built in 1922

2 bed, 2 bath, 1319 sq. ft.

(lot size 4298 sq. ft.)

Belmont Heights / Alamitos Heights 

Home of James & Louise Roper 1930 and 1940 census listing

The photo above was taken December 2009; today the house looks like this

The next house on the route was

2739 Ocean Avenue (now East Ocean Blvd)

   No photo available but the link is https://binged.it/2v2tnJP

4 bed, 2 bath, 2,690 sq. ft.

(lot size .25 acres)

Built in 1919, renovated in 1921, 2 story

Home of Henry & Bessie Roper 1940 Long Beach Census,

Home of James & Ella 1930 Long Beach Census

How it looked in the 1920's

How it looks today

The basic structure of the house is unchanged except for the scalloping on the roofline.  The porta cache is still intact, the lions and steps are the same.  The scrollwork above the front windows are gone however there are squares of similar scrollwork in plaster above the windows.  I nearly walked up to the front door to show the owners their house from nearly 90 years ago…

The next house was listed in the 1920 Long Beach Census as

2119 Ocean Avenue (now 2119 E. Ocean Blvd)

https://binged.it/2uHiRot

1 bedroom, 1 bath apartment

No other information available

Home of James & Ella, Clyde & Leonard 1920 Long Beach Census

It appears to have been a home at one time that has been converted into 4 apartments; 2 upstairs and 2 down. 

Here's how it looks now

The two center doors (I believe) go to upstairs apartments (2119 and 2121); the two side doors to the downstairs apartments. 

The last home wasn't really a home but has been a hotel for most of its life. 

200 East Ocean Boulevard (Breakers Hotel of Long Beach)

http://www.loopnet.com/Listing/18473245/200-E-Ocean-Blvd-Long-Beach-CA/

176 unit, 14 story Hotel

Built in 1926

Home of Leonard Eugene in both 1930 and 1940 (listed as “Hilton) Long Beach Census.

Wikipedia lists development in 1925 by Fred B Dunn.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Breakers_Hotel_(Long_Beach,_California) 

It was "The Breakers" from 1926 - 1938; at this point it was purchased by Conrad Hilton.  It remained a Hilton hotel until 1947 when it became "The Wilton".  It has changed hands many times since then and been a hotel and a retirement/senior home; designated a historic landmark in 1989 it is set to once again become "The Breakers" and be a boutique hotel.

Not a great photo but here is the current property

From the waterfront (in 1920)

Today I drove to my mom's house in Downey and took a photo of how it looks today.  I'll have to look through old photos to see if I have a "before" photo but here it is today

9711 Wiley Burke, Downey

According to Trulia it was built in 1951 and is 1,293 sq. ft with 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms.  My mom was listed in the 1953 City Directory (not census) as living here under her first married name.  

Family Is...Part II

I wrote a post about my brother, Gordon on my personal blog; I'm going to update a few things here on my Family History blog.  It's not really 'genealogy', but it's family-based, so here it is.

I visited family for my vacation this year in California; in addition to cousins and friends, I made a point to visit my brother, Gordon, while I was there.  I'll cover some of the more emotional parts of my visit a bit later in the post; but I wanted to write about some general information I found out regarding Gordon during my visit.

As I wrote in my original post (linked above), Gordon was born December 25th, 1949.  His case files note that he was a 6-month pregnancy; although I'm not sure at which point of the 6 months that refers to, it would carry along with the information that he was roughly 8-10 weeks premature at birth.  His birth weight was 2 pounds, 8 ounces.  He was in intensive care (PICU/NICU) and an incubator for several months.  At the time the doctors stated he was completely blind and severely retarded.  To my knowledge his birth mother has had no contact with him.

Gordon originally attended the California School for the Blind; I'm not sure what age he started there.  I believe based on stories from my parents that he stayed there during the week days and came home during the weekends or for extended visits until he was relocated to Loma Linda; at the University Hospital Medical Center there.

Currently Gordon resides at Lanterman Developmental Center in Pomona, California.  Their records state he's been there since 1958, but as I know he was also at the two facilities above, that's likely the date he was put into the system as a ward of the State of California.  Gordon would have been 9 years old.  (My parents were married December 19, 1959 and I was born July 30, 1963.)

I have a photo of Gordon and I when I'm a baby; 

James Gordon Roper, Gordon Allan Roper and Bessie Creviston Roper (Left)
Marjorie Kirkwood Roper, Paige Annette Roper (infant), Gordon Allan Roper, Bessie Creviston Roper, circa 1963

Bessie Creviston Roper with Gordon Allan Roper, 1950

and a couple of Gordon as a baby:

Gordon June 1, 1950

Gordon about 5 years old (no date)

There's some dispute about whether the family called him "Allan" or "Gordon", but Lanterman has called him "Gordon" or "Mr. Roper" likely since he's been there so I think that Gordon is more appropriate in this case.

My mother used to visit once a month when we lived in California; after my dad died in 1974 and we moved to Oregon to my knowledge she never visited again.  I believe my dad visited several times a month until he wasn't able to drive himself.

Me, Mom and Dad, 1973 or 1974

After my dad's death in 1974 and our subsequent move to Oregon; the hospital would have sent at minimum annual reports on his health, welfare, progress, etc.  My mother never talked about him unless I asked; usually the answer was "I don't know".  When my mother died in 2005 I received a box of (unopened) reports on Gordon; I called his Clinical Social Worker at the time and had my name put into his files.  I've received annual updates as well as correspondence regarding his care since that point.

Some of my family were very supportive about my visits and connection to Gordon.  Others were, well, uncomfortable with the mortality that faces us all and how much God has control of our lives (that's as tactful as I can be without calling people out for some very inappropriate and hurtful attitudes about Gordon, disabled people and the situation in whole).

I've had several conversations with both his State Social Worker -- Bonnie Diehl and his Clinical Social Worker -- Ida Younge in the past few months.  When I planned this trip, it was my main intention to meet Gordon and spend as much time as we both could handle.  Bonnie and Ida felt that my visiting wouldn't create undue stress for him and encouraged me every step of the way.  I was VERY nervous.

Acute Hospital Building, Lanterman Developmental Center

The Lanterman facility is in Pomona; on 300 acres of land.  The grounds are clean, well-manicured and kept.  There are many smaller house structures around the property for possibly 1 or two residents; as well as some buildings that appeared to house up to 10 residents that could live in some ways on their own.  Gordon is in the "Acute Hospital" building in "Residence 54".  There are 5 or 6 clients at this time on his floor; there are other residents on other floors, but the numbers are dwindling as the state relocates them to smaller home settings.


I had the opportunity to meet about 10 staff members over my days of visiting.  I was able to meet both Bonnie and Ida, as well as Gordon's regular nursing staff; Beelia, Rolando, Mary and others.  Every one of them were interactive with the residents, talked to them, and treated them like people without disabilities of any kind.  Respectful and friendly.  The buildings are clean and have no odor of disinfectant or bodily fluids.  The walls, windows, floors and other areas are clean and cared-for.  The grounds have flowers in bloom, plants, trees and ramps, sidewalks and lots of areas for visiting.

I visited 5 out of the 7 days I was there.  Each day there was a planned activity that the staff took the residents to.  Residence 54's clients are all wheel-chair bound; in various degrees of developmental need.  Activities that I attended were a church service with songs, guitar and a sermon from the bible, a karaoke activity with the staff dancing and engaging the clients by clapping and singing, movies, several other singing activities and tram rides or "walks" around the facilities. 

The staff are also assisted by volunteers called "the grammas".  Yes, there is also a "grampa".  These people are well in their 70's and come every day (that I was there) to sit with the clients.  The hold hands, help push their chairs, feed them, help them with coats or blankets and just spend time with them.  

Karaoke / Music day

There is laughter and talking and a very friendly atmosphere on the floor.  Staff were very excited to see me, greeted me every day and talked with me about my family, the back story on my relationship (such as it wasn't) with Gordon and my visit.  They opened the files and answered questions for me.  They talked to the residents as friends; not patients. There are a lot of smiles and friendly greetings; not clinical and silent.

My cousin Marji visited one day with me; she took some photos of us together and introduced herself to Gordon.  She didn't know he existed until about 10 years ago, and completely by accident.  She continues to be very supportive of me and of Gordon. She commented that he blinked his eyes and tilted his head when I spoke.  I'm very thankful for her encouragement.

During the times that I spent with Gordon, I held his hand, spoke to him, rubbed his back, hugged him and talked to him about our family and who I was.  I have no idea what processed and what didn't.  There were days when he allowed me to touch him and times when he would push my hand away.  He spoke just once during one of my visits; he said "Yeah, yeah, yeah".  I don't know the significance of those words to him, but he repeated them several times.  The staff said that was unusual (although he had spoken here and there).

One day, as I was getting ready to leave, I told Gordon that it was my time to go for the day but that I'd be back the next day.  He grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go. The staff said that was VERY unusual and that he didn't want me to leave.  I spent about another 45 minutes with him.  Every day I left I kissed his neck, rubbed his back and told him "I love you, Gordon".

My last visit for this trip was on Tuesday morning before I drove to the airport to fly back home.  It was difficult for me and I teared up several times.  Gordon was less open to me holding his hand, but I chalk that up to him being a bit upset that I'm leaving; maybe that's a bit of projection on my part.  My last words to him as I left were "I love you, Gordon."  

The staff hugged me as I left and thanked me for the visits and for the time to get to know Gordon.  I sobbed in the car in the parking lot.  So many thoughts -- anger, loss, sadness, questions, hurt, love.  Five days out of 50 years of my life with him. I'm still not sure I have words to explain all the feelings about my visit.  

I'm planning on writing to Gordon; I don't know what the letters will cover.  Maybe I'll talk about dad and mom; maybe I'll just tell him about my life up here.  I'm considering recording some audio letters to him, but that will take some time to get me up to speed; until then I'll write and ask the staff to read them to him.  
Gordon will be moving soon to a group family home as the State of California is shuttering the large facilities like Lanterman.  I was able to visit the home he'll be moved to, see his bedroom and meet the staff that will be with him.  We're just waiting for his move date. It's about 5 minutes from Marji's home in Downey and she's promised to visit him when she can; she made a trip on Sunday to spend some time with him and sent me some pictures.

It's never too late to meet your family.  Never.  I'm trying not to obsess over lost time and lost opportunities but to look forward to what we can build with the time we have.  I don't know how much Gordon remembers of me or if I even made a blip in his conscience.  I'm not sure it matters if I did or not; because he is my family regardless of circumstances.