Finding Michael - 5

 Michael and Vati as I remembered them

Christmas was getting closer. I thought maybe I should send Michael a package, even if he didn’t want to see me, or my husband and I could go see him, just get there unannounced.

But I reconsidered and tried calling one more time. At the very least, his caseworker could let me know what Michael needed or wanted and I would send him a Christmas present. This time, a different, friendlier, man talked to me.

“Why do you want to see Michael?” he asked, and I explained all over again that I was his sister, come from America, and hadn’t seen him for almost forty years. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll understand,” I said. “But maybe you could tell me what he would like to have for Christmas, and I could send him a package.”

“Why don’t you give me your number,” the man said. “I’ll forward it to Michael, and if he wants to talk to you, I’ll make sure he will. If he doesn’t, I’ll call you within the next two hours or so.”

Not holding a lot of hope, I gave him my phone number, and the waiting started again.

When the phone rang two hours later, I knew it would be Michael. I had no doubt. I answered, and the same friendly voice said, “Hold on a minute, Mrs. Herbert. Your brother wants to talk to you.”

Michael sounded nervous and excited. When I asked him if I could visit him, and we could go out to have some coffee and cake, he told me he didn’t drink any alcohol or coffee, and needed to watch what he eats. “But you can come and visit me in my home, and I’ll have some Christmas cake for you. For an hour or so,” he added, and I knew he was wondering how I would treat him.

We made out a time the next Sunday, and hung up. All that week, I worried about what to talk to Michael about. I decided not to ask him anything about his past. That was for him to bring up. Finally I selected some photos of my children, and some old photos of Michael, and decided to tell him all about the States.