wasn’t easy to talk to her. She told me she’d had to give me away because my father was married and she was a single mother of three.
“Your father and I had a short relationship, but it caused big problems in the family,’’ she said. I looked at my birth mother, numb.
“I understand, it must have been hard,’’ I said, not knowing what else to say.
She told me that she had also given another child from a different father – Zak – to a family member to look after, as she just couldn’t cope with three children.
We spoke for more than an hour. She asked me what I was doing, we talked about my marriage, the kids and a lot about my adoptive The next day, when I told my friends at the centre that I had found my biological mum, everyone was excited for me.
“What about your dad? Where do you think he lives?’’ one of the homeless men asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, perhaps he is closer than I think,’’ I laughed.
I continued working at the centre and almost three months after I first met my birth mother, in July 2012, I got a call from her. “My sister could help you find your father, Andrew Russell,’’ she said, giving me her number.
I immediately called her and she said she knew Andrew’s son, Patrick. “I’ll message you his Facebook link,’’ she said. I sent Patrick a message on Facebook and he replied with my dad’s number – it was that easy.
Intrigued, I looked at the photos on Patrick’s page, and saw the man I guessed was my dad. We looked so alike.
I had nothing to lose, so I picked up my phone and dialled the number.
“Can I speak to Andrew?’’ I asked, extremely nervous. I didn’t know how he would react.
“That’s my middle name, and no one has called me that for a very long time,’’ my dad said. He told me his first name was Willie, but everyone called him Will. “This is Amy, your daughter,’’ I replied.
There was no sound at the other end of the line. My heart was beating so fast, I was terrified he wouldn’t want to see me. “Say something,’’ I said. “It’ll be OK,’’ he replied. “I’d been praying to find you. The phone call was an answer to that prayer.’’ He said he hadn’t looked for me because he did not know where to start.
Willie lived in Phoenix too so we arranged to meet for breakfast the next day at a local café. I did my best to look nice. I wore heels, a skirt and a dress shirt. I wanted my dad to be proud of me.
When I walked into the café I recognised him straight away as I had seen his pictures on