Grandpa Don - Chapter 17. -

. Chapter 19 A New Life 2005 - .
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Recorded by Donald J Plefka (Grandpa Don) February, 2004
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Anne and I agreed that there was no need to travel outside the US. There was much to see and do right here but we didn't have much of a desire to travel in this country. Our home was our retirement resort and it continues to be that for me. Besides, I could no longer walk. It hurt too much and tired me more. My legs simply couldn't carry me. It didn't matter that my doctor continuously told me to loose some weight and walk more, not necessarily in that order.

But, Sr Gael announced plans for a parish pilgrimage to Rome, Assisi and Florence. I told her that it sounded great but it would be too much for me to which she replied that she knew several old nun in worse shape than I was who made the trip with no trouble at all. I took the brochure home and the Holy Spirit started working on me. After a lot of thought, I made some decisions ... first, I would go on the trip ... and to do that, I needed to start walking.

I had started to regularly visit a foot doctor, not because of any particular foot problem but because person with diabetes should have his feet checked to avoid problems that are common to the disease. Besides ,,, due to my obesity (there, ... I said it) I found it extremely difficult to cut my toe nails and care for my own feet. I found that not only the cost of this foot care was covered by my medical insurance but the cost of specially fitted shoes was covered as well. I was soon the owner of a wonderful pair of shoes with padded insoles fitted to my feet.

At first, in April, with the aid of my walking stick, I made it to the end of the block and back ... and it hurt! I had to do better because the brochures spoke of much walking and Assisi was built on the side of a mountain with streets so narrow that the busses discharged pilgrims outside the walls ... we would walk up to our loggings transporting our own luggage. I had to strengthen my legs before the end of September. Each of the intervening weeks I walked further, initially making stops at the park benches and eventually passing them by. The more I walked, the less painful it was and the easier it became.

I also had to apply for a passport which seemed to go well as I presented my old birth certificate with an issue date of February, 1932 and current identification at the special services offices in Orland Park. They took my picture and processed my application in just a few minutes. I could expect my passport in a couple weeks. But ... it was not so easy. My application was rejected because my birth certificate was the "short form" and did not state my place of birth. I would need a "long form" birth certificate.

I applied at the Markham Cook County Clerks office and was told that there was no computer record ... they sent my application to the main county office. They claimed to have no record there even though I had obtained a "short form" certificate there a number of years ago. I was referred to the State of Illinois offices in Springfield. They, in turn, said there was no record of my birth ... I did not exist! I could apply for a "delayed" certificate if I could prove where and when I was born. However, such a certificate is not acceptable for a passport application unless further proof is also submitted.

After a call to the US State Department's Help Office and explaining my situation, I submitted the letter from Catholic Charities which gave my date and place of birth, along with a baptismal certificate. My passport was issued. I did not need the birth certificate.

There were twenty-five pilgrims who flew to Paris, changed planes and went on to Rome. We spent the bulk of the time in Assisi and a day in Florence. For more details, go to Pilgrimage 2005 . It was, no doubt, the experience of a lifetime, enriching me spiritually, as well as providing the impetus to improve my physical condition. I will not include photos on this page but you are invited to View a slide show .

Besides the spiritual and cultural aspects of the trip, made several new friends who encouraged me to continue on my quest to improve my health. I had pushed beyond my limits and upon my return was determined to do even more. My grandkids moved my treadmill from the basement play room where it had been gathering dust. It was placed in the family room with an excellent view of the big digital HD TV. It was used for 20 minutes every afternoon. Along with careful monitoring of my food intake, my blood glucose dropped appreciably. For several months I also walked on it in the evenings, strengthening my legs to the point where I no longer needed the walking stick. With the re-building of leg muscle cam an even greater improvement in glucose levels. I finally was getting a grip on diabetes.

Spring of 2006 found me better able to do things around the house. I planted more perennials in Grandpa's Garden and I did it myself. Oh I still have trouble getting up after I get down but if I plan ahead I have something to assist me at hand.

Kelly graduated from grade school and was admitted to honors classes at Marist High School. Joe graduated from Bro. Rice High School and was admitted to Robert Morris College with a full scholarship for baseball. Anthony graduated from Florida Atlantic University, continuing to peruse his baseball ambitions.

Quite unexpectedly, I found the Holy Spirit working in me again. As always, it started quite innocently with a request from Caitlin for information about her family tree. I had worked on the tree years ago but lost the information in a hard drive crash. In putting the information down for her I decided to buy the "Family Tree Maker" software and delve into it again. The software came with a free trial subscription to Ancestry.com and I was hooked. Then I received an email from a young lady who, while searching for information on the baby that her great-grandmother had given up for adoption in 1931, had found my web site. The two stories, from opposite perspectives, were remarkably similar. I was almost convinced that they were the same but there were discrepancies.

My interest was rekindled and I chanced to find the Adoption Database" and their "No-Find-No-Fee" dedicated service. I signed up figuring there was nothing to loose. That was on a Monday. The following Saturday, June 17th at about 2:30 p.m. JoAnne called ... "I have found your birth family" were the startling words. A couple more calls to verify bits of information and with the donation of a modest amount via an online credit card, I had names, addresses and phone numbers. I was then able to make a call to my brother Jim! We played answering machine tag and I was in shock! In the mean time, JoAnne emailed bits of family information that she had gathered in her search.

In previous feeble internet searches I was looking for Florence Lucille Cecora in the Chicago area in the 1930's with no luck. JoAnne found Lucy Cecora in Cleveland and then dug deeper to find that Florence was using her middle name and apparently only came to Chicago to live with a cousin for a short time. A more detailed account of my search can be found at the page for Harry Ronald Cecora .

I did not sleep well that Saturday night and was up early, my mind churning with what's and what if's along with a number of who's and when's. I found an email in the morning. It was from Kim Cecora the son of my brother Ken who had died in 2003. It was full of information that generated more questions but it erased some of my doubts. Later that day with Dan and his family here for a Father's Day visit, Peggy Cecora called. It was a wonderful conversation and my doubts were gone. I was, indeed, a Cecora, descendant of the Lossner (Von Lossner), and Packard families.

These events culminated in a visit from my brother Jim, his wife Peggy, their daughter and sons. You may step back in time and join the celebration at; Cecora - Plefka Reunion July 1-2 , 2006 . It was indeed, an AWESOME weekend. My regret is that I did not seriously search earlier. I would have liked to have spent some time with my brother Kenneth Cecora who died in 2003. I also could have visited my mother who died at 98 in 2001. I missed the opportunity to tell her that I am grateful for the life she gave me and that I understand her need to give me up for adoption. I could have let her know that I love her. It would also have been an opportunity to confirm the identity of my father. We assumed that although she and Daniel Cecora divorced several years before my birth, I was the result of one of their several reconciliation attempts.