In search of lost family

AS TOLD TO BC PIRES

My name is Diane Sanchez and I have been searching more than 20 years for the Trinidadian family that adopted me until I were eight years old.

I was born Diane Mohansingh in Sangre Grande. I lived with my papa Lewis Joseph in Valencia from a baby until I was eight, when my mom took me back. I remember Papa had blonde hair and blue eyes, very white skin. He would say he was from Portugal. I’ve been trying to get in touch with his children, Rosanne, Susanne and George for years. They were older than me, maybe in their 30s. Roseanne had two daughters, Janelle and Jennifer. I remember George would bring me clothings and stuff that I need.

Brooklyn, New York, is my home now. It’s part of me. I have a family of my own. I’m married to Chris Sanchez and have two boys, Christian, four, Daniel, 13, and a girl, three, Julianna. I treat them nice, like the first parents treated me. I think positive and try to meditate and everything I do is for them. I have never been back to Trinidad.

I was raised in many faiths. When I moved back to my mom, they were Hindus. When my dad passed away, she become Christian. When I came to America, I become Muslim. And then, when I met Chris, I found peace. My kids are baptised Catholic. Chris’ dad is from Cuba and his mother is Italian. We speak English at home. My kids say, “Hey, Alexa, how you say 'good morning' in Spanish?”

I spent the first eight years of my life in Valencia with Papa. When my mom took me back, I stayed with her for maybe six or seven years and then I came to America. In those first eight years of my life, I didn’t know my birth-mother at all. I never seen her. I was eight years old when she just appeared and snatched me away. I didn’t even know she was my mother. I called her “Auntie.”

Lewis, my papa, did had a lady who would come every two to three days. But she didn’t live with us. She just visits and goes back.

I remember going to Rosanne’s house in Port of Spain somewhere but I forgot the name of the place. I was little. It might be Diego Martin. I would play with Janelle and Jennifer in the backyard of their house. I remember riding a bike with them.

I remember Rosanne’s husband was a dentist. He made a pair of dentures for my papa. Walking home on the trail in Valencia where we lived, three bandits came out of the bushes and start beating him with the machete on his back. I was screaming. They had a gun to my head. He gives them everything, money everything, and they still beat him up. I wanted to do something but I was so little. The bottom dentures came off and he never found it again.

I am hoping Rosanne or Susanne or George might read this. Since I was little, my whole life, I think of them. I don’t know if they were looking for me as well. I’m hoping they were. It would be the nicest thing, to find them. They were really, really nice people.

I don’t think I ever went to school for the first ten years of my life. Yes, BC Pires, this is country life in Trinidad! The real country life! When I came to America when I was 16, I did not know how to read or write or anything. I took adult literacy class and tried to better myself a little bit.

I have four brothers and two sisters from my mother. I’m the last. I’ve been in touch with my siblings trying to find my papa. And his children. But they haven’t been able to help. My mom told me my papa had died.

Financially, I think my mother was struggling, that’s why she gave me up. I don’t think I was formally adopted. I think she just gave me to them. And then took me back. I sometimes get in touch with my mother. We do talk. I did ask her who the people were but she doesn’t want to talk about it. I wrote letters but my sister said it was only forest when she went to Valencia.

The day my mother appeared, I remember the police came. As a child, I went with my papa to collect his pension. That’s where the police snatched him. That was very heartbreaking at the time.

After a week or two, my papa came to my mother’s house and he would beg my mother to give me back but she ran him away. I would call her Auntie then and she would say, “No, don’t call me Auntie, I’m your mother!” It was terrible. It was like my heart was shattered, living with my real parents.

My life in Sangre Grande was very different from my life in Valencia.

When I was 17 or so, my mom sent me to America to babysit my brother’s child. I did that for a year. And then I was 18. My brother went back to Trinidad but I chose to stay in America and better my life.

My life is like a puzzle. I turn pieces over and look. And try to figure it out.

In Sangre Grande, I thought, “When I am 18, I will go look for them!” But I turned 18 in America and have never been back to Trinidad.

I believe God does work miracles. Even if BC Pires promptly points out he didn’t do a very good miracle for me. I think my life has become better because of all the struggles. There’s always a light on the other side of the tunnel.

Sometimes God is in your own thoughts. If you choose to do good in life, you’re going to do good in your life. If you choose to be an alcoholic, you’re going to be an alcoholic. It’s all in your head and your thought.

When I came to America, I was very unhappy. I was always depressed. I would seek therapists. No one knew I tried to hurt myself many times. I’m very glad to be here for my children and family.

My real hope is to be reunited with the people I think of as my first family. Because they took care of me. I will never forget that. I always wanted to tell them thank you for taking care of me as a child. I never get that closure.

Yes, BC Pires, I realise that it could be disappointing to find them. Yes, they could be different from my “idealised” memory of them. Who knows if they’re even in this world anymore? But I’m willing to take the chance and I hope I find them.

I love all different type of music from all different culture, could be Latin Spanish, could be American rock, and I haven’t been back to Trinidad since I left but, oh my gosh! My kids and I jam out to soca music! I love soca music, calypso, I love reggae. Machel Montano, Bunji Garlin. Old calypso music, Kitchener, all those good music. I like David Rudder’s music too. They don’t make them like that any more.

A Trini is someone that drinks rum.

Trinidad and Tobago means a lot to me, as a child born and growing up there. It is my country. But now Brooklyn is home because it’s where I made my own family.

Read the full version of this feature on Friday evening at www.BCPires.com

E-mail Diane Sanchez at sdiane803@gmail.com