Will see if this one gets any hits…
For years I tried to find my birth parents. Started when I was in college. I reached out to the adoption agency and the laws in Missouri prohibited it completely. Tried having doctors write letters because I wanted to know what was wrong with my heart. Maybe it was hereditary. No luck.
A number of years ago when the adoption agency reached out to tell me the laws changed they wanted to know if I wanted to contact my mother. I hesitated. I wasn’t sure. By that time I knew all about my heart so I didn’t need to know any information. But, maybe I did. Maybe I would like to know if my parents had it or if it killed them.
I decided I just wanted to write my mom a letter. I decided not to ask for anything. I just wrote a letter telling her I was ok. I was safe, turned out ok and didn’t need anything. I gave the letter to the adoption agency who reached out to mom. No response. They then visited her home, she didn’t respond. They delivered the letter though.
The agency eventually told me that they couldn’t reach her so they reached out to my brother. I had a brother. Apparently I had two brothers.
My first entry described briefly what happened next.
The adoption agency reached out to my brother and told him he had a brother and wanted to talk to his mom. He didn’t believe them but talked to mom anyway. Mom denied it. My brother responded to the agency and told them they had the wrong family. The agency gave up.
Then…a couple of months later my brother was at a big picnic and was telling an old family friend (a woman) about this adoption agency that contacted him about a brother he didn’t know about. The woman stopped him mid-story and touched his arm and said, “It’s all true…and my dad’s the father”.
So not only did I have two brothers from my moms side, I apparently have a sister and brother from my dad’s side.
My brother confronted my mom, she confessed, left, and the picnic ended.
My brother called the agency back, told them the story and asked to meet me. The agency said they couldn’t do that. Mom had to give permission. Two months later….mom died. My brother was allowed to reach out…and we talked. I learned that mom read the letter. And was relieved. Good…that’s all I wanted.
I also learned about my brother’s childhood. Pretty rough. Alcoholic home. Abusive men. My oldest brother died very young of AIDS. I also learned about my dad. Jim is his name. My sister was a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader back in the day.
But my dad…he wants nothing to do with me. Neither did my sister or brother on dads side. I wrote them a letter…no response.
At first I was understanding…now…not so much. I mean what kind of father and siblings simply ignore your existence? All they thought of was themselves. They didn’t once think about how that rejection might make me feel. They wanted to keep a mistake a secret and not bring it up. But I’m not an it…I’m a person who wants to meet his father. To know where I come from.
When I was younger one of my sisters made fun of me because I “wasn’t real”.
There is so much to process. The pain in my chest frankly makes it hard. Much like the crying baby in Starbucks today…it’s very hard to ignore and focus.
I don’t operate well in a world of gray. Things have to make sense to me. I have to be able to understand the why…
But what if I can’t? What if I cannot understand the why? Why my father doesn’t want anything to do with me? Why I have a heart problem that hurts? Why my cousin did what he did? Why my dad didn’t do anything to stop it?
Those are big “whys”. What’s the next step?
Acceptance….then….Forgiveness… The only way to wipe out the irreconcilable reality that these whys cannot be answered. But it requires something I cannot afford to do…or at least feels like I can’t. Trust.
It’s SO hard to forgive but only recently did I realize why. Forgiveness sends my brain a message that I can let my guard down. That I can rest. But my brain responds and says that if I do that…I will get hurt again.
Trust…I think it’s the one thing God asks of us. Not obedience…but trust…
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