It Took Me 67 Years to Find My Sister after We Were Adopted by Different Families – My Story

Two Girls Smiling While Posing For A Photo. | Source: Getty Images

Judy was separated from her sister May as a child and had no idea how to find her. But she never gave up and looked for her everywhere she could. One day, after a 67-year wait, there was a hopeful sign that she could finally reunite with May.

May and I were holding hands. She was grinning as she ran into the sunflower fields, and I was following her. And then she was gone… vanished into thin air. I couldn’t find her anywhere.

“May, where are you?” I asked, wandering through the fields. “May, Mommy and Daddy… they’ll get mad at us! Please stop hiding. MAY!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels

I gasped as I opened my eyes, sweat beads all over my forehead. I looked at the bedside clock and sighed. It was 3 a.m., and I had had the same dream again—about May’s disappearance.

To be honest, I was tired. Tired of seeing May in my dreams but not in real life. I was looking for her, yes, I was, but nothing seemed to work…

Hello, my name is Judy, and I last saw my sister May 67 years ago. I was so young at the time that I couldn’t even remember my sister’s face. But I had an album with me. It had pictures of us, Mom, and Dad. A happy family. We were one until Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident.

Our relatives didn’t want to be involved in our care, so we were placed in a shelter, which was awful in every sense of the word. The nasty kids there would pull my pigtails and make me cry, and I would hide in a corner and sob. That was until May found out about it.

“They hurt you, Judy, don’t they?” she asked me one day, and I couldn’t hold my tears back.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash

“They are bad, May,” I said, sobbing. “They hate me and call me names, and they call Mommy and Daddy bad too!”

That day, May fought for me with those kids and protected me like she always would. She was the only one I had, and I felt safe and loved in her hugs.

“I love you, May,” I told her every night before bed. “You are the best sister! The best!”

But fate had to intervene. That evil fate took away Mom, Dad, and my incredible sister. Yes, it did.

Six months after we were sent to the shelter, a couple came to meet May, and she was gone with them. I got no goodbye letter from her, no goodbye kisses, nothing.

“She left?” I asked our shelter caretaker in tears when I didn’t find her anywhere. “Really?”

“Yes, she did!” the rude woman replied sharply. “She had to think about herself first! She didn’t want a little caterpillar tagging along!”