Tami Kidd's Blog, page 4
November 5, 2011
The Escape
Hello Everyone, I hope everyone is having a great weekend. For those of you who are participating in NanoWrimo this year...I wish you much success. I am attempting to complete it again this year but I find myself procrastinating. For those of you who have the time, I wanted to share a short story I've ...
October 9, 2011
What Steve Jobs and I Had in Common
I was saddened when I found out that Steve Jobs passed away after his courageous battle with pancreatic cancer. He was a visionary with talent beyond measure. Besides being a creative genius, I was surprised to learn that he, like me, was adopted. I've learned over the years there are many, many well-known people who ...
What Steve Jobs and I Had in Common
I was saddened when I found out that Steve Jobs passed away after his courageous battle with pancreatic cancer. He was a visionary with talent beyond measure. Besides being a creative genius, I was surprised to learn that he, like me, was adopted.
I've learned over the years there are many, many well-known people who are adopted, like Scott Hamilton, Faith Hill, Jamie Foxx, Debbie Harry, Darryl "D.M.C" Matthews McDaniels, Lee Majors, Melissa Gilbert, Ray Liotta and Faith Daniels, just to name a few. I know this list only skims the surface. There are an estimated 120,000 children adopted in the United States each year. The majority of these do not grow up to be household names like those I've listed above.
I was born in Riverside, California (the setting of my novel, Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.) on July 29, 1959. I was 2 months premature and stayed in the hospital for about 6 weeks, until I reached the magic weight which meant I could be released. I went home with my birth mother, who was 15 years old. I lived with my mother and grandmother and conditions, I was told, were not optimal. My grandmother was an alcoholic and not a nice woman. My mother was a teenager and had no idea how to care for a newborn child.
Fortunately, I had a guardian angel to watch out for me living down the street. Every day the angel would come over to our house to feed, bathe and change my dirty diaper. Every day she would go home and beg her parents to adopt me. She was 12 years old and longed for a baby sister. Eventually, her parents discussed adoption with my birth mother. My birth mother agreed to let them adopt me. My new family took me home immediately and soon the legal papers were drawn up and I was officially adopted. I was known from that time on as Tami Lynn Kidd.
I had no idea I was adopted until I was 12 years old when I accidentally found the adoption papers. Yes, I was a nosey child and often snooped where I wasn't supposed to, but that's another story. Finding out I was adopted left me with many mixed feelings and questions. The biggest questions, who was I? What were my 'real' parents like and did I have brothers and sisters? Did I look like my mother or my father?
My adoptive sister gave me the answers to as many questions as she had answers to. She was the 12 year old who cared for me in the early months of my life. She was the one responsible for my adoption. I owe her a debt of immense gratitude. She saved me from a life of abuse. I know this because when I was 30 years old I found my biological family. I have five biological half siblings, four sisters and one brother. Most of them still live in California and all of them still bear the scars from an abusive, alcoholic father.
I met my biological mother and she assured me if I had remained with her I would have suffered most of all her children. Her husband, the father of my siblings resented me because I was not his child. He wanted nothing to do with me. My mother and he were together when I was born and he made his feelings very clear from the start that he would never love someone else's child. From the abuse he bestowed on his own children I would say he didn't love them either. His declaration was the deciding factor for my biological mother's decision to give me up for adoption. Plus, she knew my new family could provide for me in ways she would not be able to.
Steve Jobs and I were blessed. We were fortunate to have had a biological mother who cared enough to want a better life for her child. We were lucky to have been chosen by families who loved and nurtured us. I don't know where I would be today if it hadn't been for my sister who came to my rescue. I don't like to dwell on the possibilities. I am sure; however, Steve Jobs and I were given a gift of love. Steve Jobs was a gift to the world. He gave back to the world with his innovations and insight, which will remain with us forever. I hope to give back to the world, one story at a time.
Oh and one more thing. Thank you, Sis, I love you.
I've learned over the years there are many, many well-known people who are adopted, like Scott Hamilton, Faith Hill, Jamie Foxx, Debbie Harry, Darryl "D.M.C" Matthews McDaniels, Lee Majors, Melissa Gilbert, Ray Liotta and Faith Daniels, just to name a few. I know this list only skims the surface. There are an estimated 120,000 children adopted in the United States each year. The majority of these do not grow up to be household names like those I've listed above.
I was born in Riverside, California (the setting of my novel, Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.) on July 29, 1959. I was 2 months premature and stayed in the hospital for about 6 weeks, until I reached the magic weight which meant I could be released. I went home with my birth mother, who was 15 years old. I lived with my mother and grandmother and conditions, I was told, were not optimal. My grandmother was an alcoholic and not a nice woman. My mother was a teenager and had no idea how to care for a newborn child.
Fortunately, I had a guardian angel to watch out for me living down the street. Every day the angel would come over to our house to feed, bathe and change my dirty diaper. Every day she would go home and beg her parents to adopt me. She was 12 years old and longed for a baby sister. Eventually, her parents discussed adoption with my birth mother. My birth mother agreed to let them adopt me. My new family took me home immediately and soon the legal papers were drawn up and I was officially adopted. I was known from that time on as Tami Lynn Kidd.
I had no idea I was adopted until I was 12 years old when I accidentally found the adoption papers. Yes, I was a nosey child and often snooped where I wasn't supposed to, but that's another story. Finding out I was adopted left me with many mixed feelings and questions. The biggest questions, who was I? What were my 'real' parents like and did I have brothers and sisters? Did I look like my mother or my father?
My adoptive sister gave me the answers to as many questions as she had answers to. She was the 12 year old who cared for me in the early months of my life. She was the one responsible for my adoption. I owe her a debt of immense gratitude. She saved me from a life of abuse. I know this because when I was 30 years old I found my biological family. I have five biological half siblings, four sisters and one brother. Most of them still live in California and all of them still bear the scars from an abusive, alcoholic father.
I met my biological mother and she assured me if I had remained with her I would have suffered most of all her children. Her husband, the father of my siblings resented me because I was not his child. He wanted nothing to do with me. My mother and he were together when I was born and he made his feelings very clear from the start that he would never love someone else's child. From the abuse he bestowed on his own children I would say he didn't love them either. His declaration was the deciding factor for my biological mother's decision to give me up for adoption. Plus, she knew my new family could provide for me in ways she would not be able to.
Steve Jobs and I were blessed. We were fortunate to have had a biological mother who cared enough to want a better life for her child. We were lucky to have been chosen by families who loved and nurtured us. I don't know where I would be today if it hadn't been for my sister who came to my rescue. I don't like to dwell on the possibilities. I am sure; however, Steve Jobs and I were given a gift of love. Steve Jobs was a gift to the world. He gave back to the world with his innovations and insight, which will remain with us forever. I hope to give back to the world, one story at a time.
Oh and one more thing. Thank you, Sis, I love you.
September 24, 2011
I Thought I Saw You
Hello friends, I wanted to share a piece of myself I don't often share. In 2006 I lost my 22 year old son, Richard. As a tribute to him I wrote a poem. Poetry is not my strong suit, at least that's what I thought. After writing this poem it was selected to be included ...
I Thought I Saw You
Hello friends,
I wanted to share a piece of myself I don't often share.
In 2006 I lost my 22 year old son, Richard. As a tribute to him I wrote a poem. Poetry is not my strong suit, at least that's what I thought. After writing this poem it was selected to be included in the 2011 edition of Blackwater Review. It also won first place in the Baldwin Writer's Contest and will be published in their anthology sometime this fall. I received so much positive feedback for this poem that I wanted to share it with you. More importantly, I wanted to share this with you because it lets you see my son as I saw him. He was a talented musician, a free spirit and a young man who knew his likes and dislikes. He was kind, quiet and unassuming. He left this world way to soon.
This poem is my way of making him live forever in the hearts of those who knew and loved him.
I Thought I Saw You
I thought I saw you at the market today.
A young man about your age,
with dark mournful eyes and a long, thick ponytail
made his way down the canned food aisle.
I discretely followed him around for a while.
I thought I saw you at the gas station today,
standing beside an old white Maxima,
just like the one we used to have,
with the dent in the hood,
where you hit it with your hand.
He even wore the same cheap sneakers
you used to wear with the cheesy Velcro straps.
I thought I saw you at our burger place today,
ordering your usual cheeseburger, no pickles,
because you’re allergic,
your little trick,
so they wouldn’t forget
and put them on anyway.
I looked at his hands as he took his tray;
his fingers weren’t thin and calloused.
He’s not an accomplished guitarist.
I thought I saw you at the bank today.
This boy always takes my breath away.
He’s the same height and same build.
He even has the cute little freckles on his arms.
He’s missing the Cheshire cat tattoo.
I like to pretend just for a minute or two
that it’s you asking, “How may I help you?”
I thought I saw you in your garden today.
I was sitting at my desk,
staring out my window,
enjoying the birds playing in their nest,
but it was the sun playing tricks on me,
the shadows dancing round the trees,
bouncing off the granite,
that’s forever your pillow.
I wanted to share a piece of myself I don't often share.
In 2006 I lost my 22 year old son, Richard. As a tribute to him I wrote a poem. Poetry is not my strong suit, at least that's what I thought. After writing this poem it was selected to be included in the 2011 edition of Blackwater Review. It also won first place in the Baldwin Writer's Contest and will be published in their anthology sometime this fall. I received so much positive feedback for this poem that I wanted to share it with you. More importantly, I wanted to share this with you because it lets you see my son as I saw him. He was a talented musician, a free spirit and a young man who knew his likes and dislikes. He was kind, quiet and unassuming. He left this world way to soon.
This poem is my way of making him live forever in the hearts of those who knew and loved him.
I Thought I Saw You
I thought I saw you at the market today.
A young man about your age,
with dark mournful eyes and a long, thick ponytail
made his way down the canned food aisle.
I discretely followed him around for a while.
I thought I saw you at the gas station today,
standing beside an old white Maxima,
just like the one we used to have,
with the dent in the hood,
where you hit it with your hand.
He even wore the same cheap sneakers
you used to wear with the cheesy Velcro straps.
I thought I saw you at our burger place today,
ordering your usual cheeseburger, no pickles,
because you’re allergic,
your little trick,
so they wouldn’t forget
and put them on anyway.
I looked at his hands as he took his tray;
his fingers weren’t thin and calloused.
He’s not an accomplished guitarist.
I thought I saw you at the bank today.
This boy always takes my breath away.
He’s the same height and same build.
He even has the cute little freckles on his arms.
He’s missing the Cheshire cat tattoo.
I like to pretend just for a minute or two
that it’s you asking, “How may I help you?”
I thought I saw you in your garden today.
I was sitting at my desk,
staring out my window,
enjoying the birds playing in their nest,
but it was the sun playing tricks on me,
the shadows dancing round the trees,
bouncing off the granite,
that’s forever your pillow.
September 3, 2011
It's Harder Than I Thought
I have started and erased this entry about six times. I never dreamed it would be so hard to write a blog. I'm a writer, this should be easy, right? No problem. . . just let the words flow out onto the page. Piece of cake! Nope, it's harder than I thought. I planned on ...
Interview with Mara Byrne
I am thrilled to be able to present to you an interview with Mara Byrne, heroine of Let Sleeping Dogs Lie. For those of you who have not yet read the book, don't worry, no spoilers here! Just a glimpse into who Mara is and what motivates her. If any of you have questions you ...
