End of a Chapter

What began with a simple phone call on July 30, 2009, from Tom Lazio, director of the American Home Finding Association, marked the opening of a new chapter in my search to find my parents and biological siblings. That unexpected call set many things in motion.

Nearly two years later, John shared difficult news—he had been diagnosed with esophageal cancer and was given a life expectancy of six months to two years. Hoping for more time, he asked his oncologist if five years might be possible with treatment. The answer was sobering: only a one-in-one-hundred chance. Even so, John came remarkably close to beating those odds, living until December of 2014.

On Saturday, December 6, 2014, at 3:07 PM, I received a call from Sandy Hopkins. Her voice carried the news that John had passed away just ten minutes earlier. He had been staying at Mercy Hospice House in Hiawatha, Iowa, since November 10th. When I asked who was with him, she told me her mother and sisters were there. They had been praying together and had just finished reading Psalm 23 when he quietly slipped away.

God blessed me with the privilege of knowing my brother John and spending five meaningful years together. During that time, we grew close, and Becky and I shared many special moments with John and Sandy. My final visit with him was on Wednesday, November 26, 2014. Though he was no longer able to carry on a full conversation, I was able to speak with him and show him pictures of my family—images I knew would bring him joy.

Before I left, I read from Scripture and prayed with John and Sandy. It is a moment I will always carry with me, and one for which I will be forever grateful.

John’s Illness

It wan’t long after my reunion with John in 2009 that I received some very disturbing news from John as I was driving home from work. I worked at Pella Corporation in Pella, IA and spent around 25 minutes on the road each day.

John and I talked frequently during my commute home.  During one of those visits John informed me that he was planning to undergo an Endoscopy because he was having trouble swallowing.  He explained to me that he had been diagnosed with acid reflux disease years earlier but that he had not gone back to the doctor for follow-up treatments until recently.

Then, the telephone call that no one wants to receive where John informed me that he had been diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer and was given 6 months to 2 years to live.  He said the results of the Endoscopy & ensuing biopsy revealed that he had a malignant tumor that was 1/3 of the size of his stomach.

After meeting with his Oncologist John asked if he could live another 5 years with treatment and was told that he would have a 1 out of 100 chance of living that long.  As it turned out, John came very close to beating those odds by living until December 6, 2014.

Most of the notes of his treatment were made in 2011 as his condition worsened. (I will append this page as notes are located and compiled for accuracy).

On November 10th, 2014 I received an e-mail from Sandy which proved to be pivotal in John’s declining days.  The e-mail began “After a very challenging weekend, I decided to have John moved to the Hospice House in Hiawatha.” She went on to say “– we had a very difficult weekend, both emotionally and physically.” It was heart breaking news to receive this word from Sandy, but not unexpected.  I made a point to get to Hiawatha for what ended up being my final personal visit with John before he entered eternity.  The date was Wednesday, November 26th; I remember that being a snowy day with road conditions that were not the greatest.

In God’s Time

The year 2009 became another monumental chapter in my life. What began as an ordinary year unfolded into one of the most meaningful seasons I would ever experience.

For decades, the desire to reconnect with my biological siblings had lived quietly in my heart. After my adoption and early attempts to locate them in the 1970s, I eventually came to accept that those connections might never be restored. Even after the brief but meaningful reunion in 1986, loss and silence seemed to close that door once again.

Then, 23 years later—once more, in God’s perfect timing—I received a call that would change everything.

Reunited with John

In late July of 2009, I received a message from the American Home Finding Association. They had new information regarding my family and asked me to return their call.

I’ll admit, I hesitated.

After past disappointments and years of unanswered questions, I had to decide whether I was willing to step back into that unknown. But the hesitation didn’t last long. Deep down, I already knew—I had to make the call.

When I spoke with Tom Lazio, I learned that my brother John’s adoptive father had recently reached out seeking medical information. Because I had left a request decades earlier to be contacted if any family surfaced, the connection was finally made.

I called John’s father that same day and left a message. A couple of days later, on August 3rd, 2009, I received the call I had wondered about for years.

“Richard?”
“Yes.”
“This is your little brother John.”

Those words carried nearly half a century of separation.

We spoke for about 20 minutes that first time, sharing pieces of our stories and discovering just how much had been lost—and yet, somehow, preserved. Not long after, we made plans to meet in person.

On August 16th, 2009, we reunited at Granite City in Davenport, Iowa.

Seeing John again after 47 years was surreal. Time had changed many things, but the connection was unmistakable. We spent hours talking—first over a meal, then continuing our conversation at a nearby park. There was so much to share, and yet the conversation felt natural, as if picking up where we had left off long ago.

What stood out most was the sense of understanding. Though our lives had taken very different paths, there were striking similarities in our experiences—especially in how adoption had shaped us. For the first time in many years, I felt truly understood by someone who had lived a parallel story.

It was more than a reunion—it was the beginning of restoration.

Reunited with Shirley

Not long after reconnecting with John, we both expressed a desire to find our sister Shirley. With the help of the American Home Finding Association, contact was initiated.

Then, in early October, I received another message—this time with news that Shirley wanted to connect.

I can still remember the feeling.

When I finally spoke with her, our conversation lasted nearly an hour, and it felt like no time had passed at all. We shared memories from our earliest years—things only we could understand. The connection was immediate and deeply personal.

Within days, we were speaking regularly.

Just a short time later, Shirley and her husband Mike made an incredible journey—driving nearly 900 miles—to come to Iowa and meet us.

On October 17th, 2009, I stood on my porch and watched my sister walk toward me. After all those years, we were finally face to face again.

That day was filled with conversation, laughter, shared memories, and reflection. We looked through old documents and photographs I had saved for decades. We visited places that were part of my story—my hometown, my childhood home, and even my workplace. Every moment felt meaningful.

What stood out most was how quickly the unfamiliar became familiar again. Any nervousness faded almost instantly, replaced by a sense of belonging that is hard to describe.

It was as if something long missing had finally been restored.

A Season of Restoration

Looking back, I cannot ignore the pattern—23 years between major moments of connection. First in 1986, and then again in 2009.

Timing that could never have been orchestrated by chance.

I am deeply grateful to God for allowing me to reconnect not only with my brother John and my sister Shirley, but also for the earlier opportunity to meet other members of my biological family.

These reunions did not erase the years of separation, but they brought healing, understanding, and a renewed sense of identity.

Some relationships were restored fully. Others remain incomplete. But even in that, I have found peace.

Because in the end, this journey has never been about perfect outcomes—it has been about faith, perseverance, and trusting that in God’s time, what is meant to be revealed will be revealed.

And in 2009, much was revealed.