Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/898390
S pit in a cup, gain a family: As sim- ple as that, a mystery was solved involving two adoptions, three coun- tries, mixed ethnicities and generous souls. I have found an aunt—my father's half-sibling that we never knew existed—by sending a saliva sample to a DNA testing company. I love it when I'm cynical about something, then proven wrong. So when I spit into a tiny, plastic cup and sent it off to the company 23andMe, I didn't expect exact results. But, they came back as accurate as a fingerprint, confirming what I al- ready knew about my family: My pretty, red-headed mother is primarily Irish and British. My exotic looking father is half-Japanese and half-African. With that bullseye, I put trust in the process, read a few of the medical reports they'd sent me, and logged-off. Two months ago, I got an email that piqued my interest; "You Have New DNA Relatives!" I laughed when I clicked and saw that I allegedly had more than 1,100 cousins. But, one of the cousins I've known my whole life was listed, and the hocus-pocus became more real to me. I also had a close match with one woman who, according to DNA, would be a first cousin or closer. I looked at her profile, then googled her name. A shiver came over me when her photo popped up and I saw a version of my own face staring back at me. I knew who this was…who this had to be. Cheryl is 64-years old, but looks far younger, a characteristic of my father and his relatives. My search showed she is a dog rescuer, a mother, a retired professional, happy and established. I messaged her, ensuring I wasn't a kook, and that I had a hunch she was my aunt. I also messaged her son on Instagram and, after not receiving a response from either of them, I tried to forget about it. I just couldn't. An email came this week from Cheryl, trying desperately to get in touch with me. She revealed that she had been adopted from Korea in 1953 and she was brought to California by a loving family. Did I have any clues for her? I chirped with joy. Emails, phone calls and texts were made in a flurry. Yes, in fact, my biological grandfather, Marcus, had fought in the Korean war, and was there in '53. Yes — we could confirm who Cheryl's father was, and we had close ties with the people she'd soon meet as brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces and cousins. Cheryl is my father's sister, a brand new auntie—a woman who's never had the convenience of knowing a single biological relative. My father was born in Hawaii in 1943 to a Japanese laun- dress and a black US soldier. Fortuitously, my father was adopt- ed by the Ruiz family, and that soldier, named Marcus, tracked down the Ruizes and my father in the 1950s. Almost unbeliev- ably for the era, my grandparents integrated Marcus into the family, and I grew up knowing him until his death in 1977. What loving, open souls my grandparents were, allowing this interac- tion before the concept of "open adoption" crept into the lex- icon. Marcus went on to marry a younger woman from Scotland in the '60s, and they had three children. We all grew up as family, and several of us are in touch, frequently. Adoption reunion stories aren't all glamorous. I know first- hand that the people entangled in these delicate, emotional sit- uations may not be a match with each other. Old wounds can be opened, scars can be irritated. Some people are just plain jerks. Our family had a less than pleasant experience when my father finally tracked down his biological mother in 2006. That relationship didn't gel, and I accepted that. Lucky for us, as a lovely side effect, we gained the warmth and love of her sib- lings and their children, who are wonderful. Cheryl is about to get the same warm welcome from all of us on Marcus' side of the family. There's a lifetime to catch up on, and so many of her questions will be answered. I bet she will feel ecstatic and sentimental, all at once. Her presence in our lives holds so much promise. Our extended family, spread across the West Coast, could be strengthened by new energy, by new appreciation for having a big family. Could it change our intra-family texts and social media "likes" into actual human contact on a regular basis? Like a rebirth, could it stoke interest in each other and help to bury old grievances? I am counting the days until I meet Cheryl. Dina Eastwood is a former news anchor at KSBW TV, past host of "Candid Camera" and has starred on a reality show on the E! Network. She is a writer, editor and yogini. She resides on the Monterey Peninsula with her daughter, Morgan. BEHIND THE SPOTLIGHT D I N A E A S T W O O D tries, mixed ethnicities and generous souls. I have found an aunt—my father's half-sibling that we never knew existed—by sending a saliva sample to a DNA testing company. I love it when I'm cynical about something, then proven What loving, open souls my grandparents were, allowing this interaction before the concept of "open adoption" crept into the lexicon. S pit in a cup, gain a family: As sim- my biological grandfather, Marcus, had fought in the Korean Family Matters 46 C A R M E L M A G A Z I N E • H O L I D A Y 2 0 1 7