Remembering Florie

Having knowledge that I was adopted for as long as I could remember, I grew up longing to be 18. I knew that once I finally reached the age of 18, I would be able to begin a search for my biological mother.

Puberty was very difficult. I felt different than everyone else in my “family” and rebelled by joining with the others at the time, in drinking and doing drugs. Eventually, my adoptive mother contacted the State in order to obtain information regarding my biological mother. She thought that this information would satisfy my curiosity and thwart my rebellion. However, once she received the letter, she did not show it to me. She felt that the contents of the letter would further push me into a depressive state.

After the age of 18, I was finally given the letter, which came from the State Division of Youth and Family Services. I had been adopted through the State and my records were sealed. They were, however able to give me some non-identifying information. The letter indicated that I was born in a mental institution. My father was schizophrenic and my mother manic-depressive. Although my mother’s siblings considered raising me, they ultimately decided against it. What I found most disturbing was how very young she was. She was initially admitted at the age of 16 and received numerous shock treatments, and a trans-orbital lobotomy a few years later. Interestingly, she became pregnant 17 years after receiving the lobotomy. I can only imagine the conditions, which led to my conception.

Nevertheless, I contacted the State Adoption Department and began the search. No matter her condition, I wanted to find her. Unfortunately, my file was put on hold while the department changed offices and she died during that period of time.

Thereafter, my caseworker was able to locate my mother’s sisters. I had numerous conversations with the eldest sister, and a few with another. I was provided with two photographs of my mother, Flori, who looked eerily like me. I ultimately decided not to meet her siblings. Even with a clear understanding of the horrors of that era, I could not bring myself to forgive them for putting her there at such a young age. I am quite convinced that being the 10th child,

she had been committed in order to simply make life easier for the family.

In 1998, I decided to meet my birth father who was living in an assisted living psychiatric center in South Jersey. I chose to meet him simply to learn more about my mother. It seemed all that he was able to remember was that she was always smiling.

I consider myself very lucky not to have inherited either malady suffered by my parents. My new worry is for my four sons. I pray everyday that they will be spared the heartache these types of mental illness cause.

Had she not been lobotomized when she did, chances are that my mother would have been treated with the new breed of pharmaceuticals when they arrived on the market, and would have been released to live a somewhat normal life. The overflowing mental institutions of the 30’s and 40’s are clearly what prompted the vast number of lobotomies performed during that era. I believe that the intent of that time was to simply empty the institutions in any way possible. The saying, “good intentions pave the way to hell” is very applicable here. Once the horrific results were initially revealed, all surgeries should have been immediately stopped. Conversely, they increased. Walter Freeman is solely responsible for the epidemic of brutality that continued into the 1950’s. I feel Mr. Freeman is comparable to Josef Mengele, one of the monsters who reigned during the Holocaust.

I wonder if damaging the mind damages the soul, as well. I only pray that when I do meet my mother in heaven, she is in her original “undamaged” state. No one deserves to lose individual spark and spirit, that which makes us human. A broken mind does not justify crippling a soul.