A Life of Words

It’s always a big deal to me when life events involving my birth family happen. Whether it’s seeing my siblings and/or other family members in person, a video chat with my sibs, birthdays of family still here or gone, hearing about something happening in someone’s life, finding a person who’s able to share a memory or story about my birth parents or even my brothers or sister, meeting or getting to know a relative – it’s all very special.

And it’s why my discovery 18 years ago of the Workman family, and the wonderful rollercoaster journey that moment has taken me on, is one of the biggest blessings of my life.

This past week marked two very important birthdays in my immediate biological family that numbers six people – my birth parents Betty and Bob Workman and their children Crys, Robin, Terry and me. Three members of our family (Betty, Bob and Robin) are no longer here; the other three of us thankfully still are.

Robin, who was born in 1947 and was 14 years older than me, would’ve turned 76 on July 18. He died at the young age of 61 on January 9, 2009, after suffering a heart attack and stroke the previous month and spending several weeks in the hospital in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. Robin, like all of Betty’s and Bob’s kids born in Huntington, West Virginia, came to make FWB his longtime home by way of nearby Eglin AFB and the Air Force, in which he served his country from 1965 to 1969, including a year in Vietnam.

Betty, who became a single mother of three when she divorced the alcoholic Bob in 1959, then fatefully conceived me with him a year later and selflessly relinquished me for adoption at 39 after my birth Feb. 28, 1961, also just had a birthday. She was born July 22, 1921, which would’ve made her 102. Lung cancer (damn you, cigarettes) took her life at 71 in December 1992, while I was putting off what I should’ve started doing much earlier – searching for my birth family.

Happy birthday in heaven to both Betty and Robin, both of whom left this life far too early and are dearly missed. Although I met Robin, his poor health robbed us of the time we could’ve spent together getting to know each other better. And I never had the honor of meeting Betty, to thank her and tell her how much I love her and appreciate what she did for me and my siblings.

On Betty’s birthday Saturday, Kay and I spent 17 hours doing something else involving my birth family. We made a 6-hour drive from Arlington to tiny Wynona in northeast Oklahoma to spend time with the family of my 13-year-old great-nephew Robin, who’s named after his grandfather – yep, my late brother Robin Workman. He was born November 27, 2009 – just 10 months after his grandfather died.

Robin, who also goes by his given name Robert and Rob, is an awesome teen who plays basketball and runs track, is a great big brother to his little sisters Jeralyn and Clementine – and oh, he makes straight A’s, too. This morning, I texted Rob and his mom Kaslyn a photo of his great-uncle Crys – my big brother who’s 17 years older than me and, like Rob, played basketball and ran track in West Virginia – with his mile relay teammates at Huntington East High School in the spring of 1960 when Crys was a sophomore.

Rob also plans to try out for football this fall, when he’ll be in eighth grade. His granddad, whom Rob looks very much like, would be immensely proud of him. Kaslyn, an Air Force veteran who served three deployments during the war on terror, including in Bagram, Afghanistan, where she was injured, gushes about Rob – with good reason.

We all had lunch Saturday in nearby Pawhuska, along with Kas’s best friend Sandra, who’s visiting from San Antonio. Sandra’s husband served in the Air Force with Kas. For those unfamiliar with Pawhuska, it’s the home of Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman famed as a chef, author, blogger and TV personality. Her family also has a huge working ranch outside Pawhuska, population about 3,000.

We were going to eat at The Pioneer Woman Mercantile but the wait was two hours, so instead we had a delicious lunch at P-Town Pizza, also one of Ree’s eateries. Downtown was bustling because all week, Pawhuska’s been hosting its annual Cavalcade Rodeo, billed as the world’s largest amateur rodeo, and the numerous events surrounding it.

Kay, our kids and I had actually met Robin 10 years ago in the summer of 2013 when he was just 3 years old and we visited Fort Walton Beach while Kaslyn’s family was still living there. Rob’s father was Cory Workman, my brother Robin’s youngest of two sons, both of whom tragically died of drug overdoses (Cory in 2015, Sean in 2018).

After we all got back from lunch Saturday, Rob and I went outside and shot some hoops on the basketball goal just across the drive from their house. I don’t know about Rob, but I had a blast. It made me feel young again, shooting baskets with a 13-year-old, talking to him about basketball, what NBA players he likes, whether he likes the pro or college game more and stuff like that. I appreciated him letting an old guy like me hoop it up with him.

Before we left Saturday evening, we talked with Kas about going back up in the spring to see Rob play in a basketball game or compete in a track meet. Short as our time together was, Kay and I are thrilled that we made the trip up to visit Kas and her family, and we know she really appreciated it too. It should’ve happened several years ago, but we’re grateful we can build this much-needed family connection now. ❤