To the mother and child, adoption is always painful

Lorraine as a three or four year old

I met a woman on a trip last year and while we spent quite a bit of time together--with our husbands too--when she asked what I wrote, I just said "women's issues." We were on vacation, and I did not know enough about her to know whether her children were adopted, or even if she were. And I just didn't want to go there. Say you gave up a child for adoption, and the music stops. Say you write about "women's issues," and you are taken as a serious person. Instead of adoption, I talked about the books I've written about how women are often treated in the legal system, in contrast to men, and a study I did about women in the corporate world.

So much easier.

But we stayed in touch, via email--her name is the same as my daughter's--and a year later, I did tell her about my daughter, my memoir about giving her up, my work today. My faraway friend had searched me on the Internet but hadn't paid much

Remembering my daughter on her birthday

Jane and Lorraine, 7/25/83  NYTimes photo

Today is my daughter's birthday, but of course the correct syntax is "would have been" her birthday if she had not died in 2007. What runs through my mind in crazy seemingly random fashion are images of the two of us together: the second time you came off the plane to visit Tony, my husband, and me in New York. You were planning to spend the summer with us. What a surprise to see that you had lightened your mousy blond hair (that was so like my mousy blond) to look a lot more like mine! Highlighted! Yes, I was thrilled to see that. You were my daughter, through and through. Was that the visit that we went to the Statue of Liberty and were the first off the boat from Manhattan and first up the stairs as we scrambled up to the crown? We both enjoyed that, and joked about it over the years.

I see us hanging out downtown in Sag Harbor, at the pier, with our first dog, Fred, a friendly female lab, and just, well, just enjoying the view with the water, the boats, the sunshine and reveling in being with each other, after so many years apart.