My birthmother left my brother and I at a babysitter's apartment.

I was about eighteen months old; my brother was about 3. That was 1967. Now I'm trying to locate her.

Why now? It's time to finally close the door on some issues that have lingered for these 30+ years. I need to fill the void, created that day in 1967, the void that still remains.

I'm not looking to judge her. How could I? I simply need to reconnect, to learn about who she was, to understand her circumstances. She must have cared so much about us. She must've felt she had to give us up in order to give us a home.

It took a lot of guts to put our well being before her own sanity. There isn't a greater burden to carry to the end of life - the lifelong grief of not watching us grow up, forever wondering about her two precious children, facing the possibility that she'd never see us again, that she'd never know her grandchildren.

And if my birthmother were to wonder why I'd search for her, I'd tell her, "I desperately want to end your grieving as well as my own! And if the emptiness in your heart is even just a fraction of mine, I want to help you heal by showing I care."

Joseph Cook continues his search.