40: Bio-Dad: My Fantasy vs the Reality.

This chapter deals with my bio-dad and includes several photos I created at the Cannes Film Festival for your viewing pleasure.

Being adopted, at least for me, created so many questions that over time, I had to admit would never be answered. So, I did the second-best thing. I created a backstory about my bio-parents.

For many years, in my mind, both of my bio-parents were decent people. I bought the fable that my adopted mom (aka Fran Lepow) told me that she knew that my mom gave me up so I could have a better life. The fact that she would then state VERY EMPATHICALLY that she knew nothing beyond the fact that my bio-mom was Jewish was besides the point. I truly believe that I met bio-mom while I was in the hospital; it works mathematically. However, that aftermath was quite unfair, and to this day, I believe that my telling Fran that I might have met my mom caused my bio-mom to be transferred to the state hospital.

Welcome to my personal hell of being adopted.

So, I have talked a bunch about bio-mom, who, as many of you know, was suicidal after finding out I was on the way. But we all know that it takes two to tango, sooooo, without further typing, say hello to the fantasy and reality of bio-dad.

I have always held Vietnam War veterans in high regard. Yes, the finest generation helped the Europeans defeat Hitler, but the men who fought and died in Vietnam were not there because they wanted to be. They were drafted. We all know the bullshit the men and women who served in Vietnam went through when they returned to the States. It was horrible and embarrassing.

While living in Washington, DC, back in the late 80s, I visited “The Wall” many times. Why? As far as I know, I didn’t know anyone there. BUT, I imagined that my bio-dad’s name was etched on it somewhere. It made sense to me, because in 1965 America was rapidly increasing its presence there. I was born in late 1965, so there is a sliver of a chance that my bio-dad could be on that wall. It was comforting to me. I really don’t care if it seems weird to you, but to me, it fits the most realistic fantasy of why I was given up for adoption. My bio-dad was KIA, and my bio-mom didn’t want to be a single mother.

The other fantasy that I had, though not nearly as strong, was that I was the product of an office romance between a politician and an office worker. Why a politician, I have no idea.

Orrrr, I wasn’t even born in Florida and was born in/near Savannah, Georgia, where it is widely known that in the 60s there was a doctor who sold a couple hundred babies. It made sense to me.

Why? Because I needed something to cling to beyond the hell that I was living through. At one point, I think in second or third grade, I completely just up and changed my name to Tom. Not Tom Lepow, just Tom. My teacher, Ms Bell (who taught second and third grade), only knew it was me because of my handwriting. My parents were furious, to say the least. Of course, I did not say why I did not want to be a Lepow, for the fear of what would happen if they ever went away, while abusing the hell out of me.

Welcome to the hell of closed adoptions. I will NEVER know the truth.

One night at a bar in Daytona, I met someone who said they knew my twin. They walked me over to this guy with blond hair and a moustache. It WAS like looking in a mirror. We are both adopted, but mathematically couldn’t have had the same bio-mom. Bio-dad, quite possible.

Ric was the best man at my wedding, and even my cousins were like, we had no idea you had a brother other than David. Fast forward a bit, and DNA proves we are not related, just look similar to each other.

Fast forward many years, through high school, some college, getting married, and creating two incredible children. My fiftieth birthday was approaching, and Kathy knew I had always been bothered by not knowing who my bio-parents were. I don’t remember if I told her about 3 West or not, but she knew about some of my ideas about who my bio-parents were.

So, being the incredible person she is, she contacted Tallahassee to see what she could find out about my bio-parents. I had no idea she had until I received a letter in the mail saying something to the effect of “Dear Mr Lepow, thank you for contacting us, unfortunately, we are unable to release to you any information about your bio-parents.” YES, I just paraphrased what the letter stated. I was dumbfounded because I hadn’t contacted Tallahassee for this information. I asked Kathy, and she told me she wanted to help me find out about my bio-parents, but the letter proved what in my heart I knew to be true: I would never know much about my bio-mom and dad.

Sadly, this was not the end of the story. For about a week later, another letter arrived from the office. From the same person (supposedly) who sent the first one.

They made it seem that they wanted me to know something, and they did a deeper dive into my case. Yes, adoptions are business transactions that require the courts to be involved, so yep, I wasn’t even born yet, and I was given a case number.

The following quotes are copy/pasted from the second letter.

“I have reviewed the closed adoption record and have extracted all of the information that I am allowed to release to you under the Florida Adoption Law.”

“Your birth mother told the socialworker that she was pregnant and she had decided to have