Tag Archives: Smile
From Light of Day Stories - Heritage and Culture Camps: Why Do They Matter?
“One is surely the opportunity for an adopted child or teenager to be surrounded by other kids like them. Not having to explain about being adopted, or about why they look different from their parents–it’s a relief to be among others who understand.” Read the rest of this entry »
I followed a link off twitter that came to this post by Religious News. Now, I need to confess I tend to stay away from this type of website simply because some tend to raise my blood pressure, especially if they speak of adoption. This time is different and is worth sharing. I will share the last paragraph that made me smile because the hypocrisy is so very clear to me and many others - so read the post.
If it’s SSM that they’re arguing against, the non-religion reason is biology. If its adoption they pushing for, it’s selfless surrender for the good of the child. The non-religious reasons are simply rationalizations for the religious results they want.
The last post linked below is completely different and is from Adopto-Snark that had me giggling right through to the end. Adoptee humor at it’s finest, but is also something “some” non-adopted should think about before they open their mouth and insert foot. I wish I had her gift.
Hope you enjoy them…
All my friends know I am a huge animal lover. I support rescue groups where I live – one large, one small, and over the years others who give a hand up to animals. My home has been a refuge for dogs and cats who needed someone to care. Right now I have Little Puppy who lived in a shelter for most of her first year of life – the last seven with me and is sleeping curled up on her bed next to me. Where I am – is where she is, yesterday it was out chasing the ball in the misty rain, while I tried to prune the apple tree in between being barked at to throw the ball – yet again. Big puppy has been on borrowed time for the last year and it will be hard to see him go, and I think my Little Puppy knows it is almost time. Last week when he went to the vet she was inconsolable - until he returned home. Read the rest of this entry »
A Belated Merry Christmas to everyone – I meant to do a post and then forgot. Hoping your celebrations were the way you wanted them. Mine were perfect, low key and with the people I wanted to see and spend time with. Of course, I would have loved to meet up with people who I only know on-line but…
Having said that – the weather sucked. We had snow a week before Christmas and I had my fingers crossed, and then rain, rain, and more rain. The picture at the end of the post, while not the best, shows what one of the squirrels thought of it too.
Now to add the adoption bit into the post. I was reading the NCFA documents that are part of their ”birthparent” counselling package. Many of them disturbed me, but this made me scratch my head. Below is the blurb at the top of the formerly called “Positive Adoption Language” now called “Accurate Adoption Language“…who can keep up with all these changes – hey?
Words not only convey facts, they also evoke feelings. For example, when a TV show or movie contains language about a “custody battle” between “real parents” and “other parents,” this reinforces the inaccurate notion that only birth parents are real parents and that adoptive parents aren’t real parents. Members of society may also wrongly conclude that all adoptions are “battles.”
Accurate adoption language can stop the spread of misconceptions such as these. By using accurate language, we educate others about adoption. We choose emotionally “correct” words over emotionally laden words. We speak and write in appropriate adoption language with the hope of influencing others so that this language will someday become the norm.
Under the Acceptable column is: Person / Individual who was adopted
Under the Less Acceptable column is: Adoptee
And of course “was adopted” is Acceptable, and “is adopted” is Less Acceptable.
So using the term “Person / Individual who was adopted” for myself, will stop the spread of misconceptions such as what? That I am an adopted? I am.
I’m missing the connection between my identifying as an “Adoptee” and emotionally laden words. It’s a term. I do know that writing out “Person / Individual who was adopted” will not be on my list of New Year’s Resolutions. Adoptees should be free to use whatever terminology suits them. Not what some group of “People / Individuals who were not adopted” want us to use.
And what’s with the use of three different “A Words”: Accurate, Acceptable, Appropriate? Couldn’t get a consensus on which was the right - less emotionally laden term?
Anyway – have a Safe & Happy New Year - if I don’t talk to you before then…
Now the picture of the wet squirrel - and don’t judge the picture quality – it was taken from inside the kitchen with a flash it was such a dreary grey and rainy day.
Writing Dear Mother seems so formal, yet I never met you, you so I can’t call you mom, or even know if you would have wanted to me to call you - mom. Let alone if I would have been comfortable with that either. How strange all of this is, and to think that at my age, I am writing you a letter for the very first time. All in all, this seems to be a harder letter to write than I thought it would be, and seems without purpose, or reason, but yet I think it is still something that I need to do. Perhaps it is just part of the journey, this need to talk to you, and write down my thoughts, so here goes…
One of my greatest wishes - is that you could have known all the times throughout my life, that I thought about you, longed to know who you were, desired just to know you. Looking back, I can’t remember a single time in my life when I didn’t want that. Every year on my birthday, would find me looking for a message from you to me in the paper, never found one, but it didn’t stop me dreaming of the day you would look for me, find me. That day never came and when I found you – it was already too late. I never heard your voice, at least not that I remember, neither do I know if you ever saw me, held me, or even said goodbye. That hurts – not knowing anything about what happened when I was born. I can never ask you the questions that haunt me, questions like: Did you see me, hold me? Did they take me away and not let you see me? Did you want to see me? Did you try? Did you name me? I wasn’t named on my birth certificate, so I will never know if you named me, or they just didn’t put my name on my birth certificate, as I was just a baby for adoption. In my heart I think you did, but that too, is just another missing piece. I do know you thought I had a family to go too, but I didn’t, and spent a few months “somewhere”. I don’t know where, or if it was just one person, or many people, who cared for me. No one knows, no one thought to ask, no one documented it. All I know, is that I was somewhere, because I am still here. I did get wonderful parents who were loving, and supportive, and did the best they could in all things.
There are many missing pieces to my story that can never be answered, just like I can never get to know you, see you, talk to you. Those missing pieces haunt me. I need all the pieces to make sense of anything, regardless of what it is, but this is the big one, the one that dramatically altered my life in such a profound way. At the heart of who I am – I am a puzzle solver – I have to solve it, understand it, know it. Yet the event that forever changed the course of my life, is a puzzle to me, it will always have missing pieces, incomplete and unsolved.
There are so many things I wish could have been different. That you had reached out while you were still alive – while that one small link between us was still partly open. Perhaps you did try to reach out, but “others” thought you shouldn’t, perhaps you didn’t reach out for any number of reasons, it’s the not knowing that hurts, that can never be answered now. I wanted to know you in whatever form that relationship took. To know if we would have connected and talked for hours on end, finished each other’s sentences, understood each other, or be totally disconnected from each other, and distant, or something in between. There is comfort in knowing we shared similar interests, flower gardening and that you loved roses too, that reading was a passion we both shared, crafts. I also know that you married and had children, but that’s pretty much all I know, and it seems so little. That despite the willingness of others to share with me their knowledge about you, they can’t provide the knowledge that I crave, that can only be known when you know someone personally. I am grateful to know as much as I do, and am sorry that I didn’t push harder, but I was unsure if I should, and worried it would cause you pain, perhaps that is what happened on your end too. I would have liked a different ending, regardless of what the outcome was, that I might have been able to share with you my journey, and hear your journey. To have been able to tell you about things that happened in my life that seemed random at the time, but now strike me as perhaps what is called synchronicity. When I work on the family tree, I think of you, and wish you could tell me stories to give me a better sense of who our ancestors were. Above all, just the chance to spend some time getting to know you, and hear our story, would have been the best.
From all accounts – loosing me changed you, but I don’t think anyone truly understood why, how could they when they never went through anything like that. Little things said about your choices or actions – things that made perfect sense to me, seem to just not make any sense to them, why you would do something, or at least they never connected the two together. I believe I know why, because of similar reactions I had, after my son, your first grandchild, passed. I don’t know if that makes us alike, or just aligned, because we both lost our first child. My hope is that your husband understood, and from has been said, he was a good man, and I hope he was there for you when you needed him.
Finally, I have been told - you said, when asked, that you thought of me every day, and that makes me both happy, and sad, at the same time, because I always hoped you were okay and had a good life, while still thinking of me from time to time. Knowing that though, does provides me with a level of certainty, that you would have been open to knowing me as well, yet instead we both failed to act, and that allowed the wall of secrecy between us to stay for life. Secrecy that wasn’t right then, and still isn’t right now. I don’t believe that adoption was ever meant to be done this way, and they are slowly learning from the impact on so many, from this closed era social experiment. It’s just sad we had to be a part of that, bad timing I suppose, but at the end of the day, we can’t change the past, and just had to live the life that was dealt, I hope you did, and that you found the peace you needed, and the ability to have joy and happiness in your life too.
Your first child…