Catching Up Is Hard To Do
It's been too long. Way too long. I'd say as far as professional bloggers are concerned, I'm an abysmal failure. Not that I or anyone I know ever considered that I was a pro. I'm not even sure I'd qualify for Triple A league blogger status. Life gets so busy and chaotic, sometimes it leaves little time to even sit down and relax a bit. So here I am on a Sunday afternoon sitting in front of a blank blog page not wondering what I'm going to write, but I'm wondering where to start.
I think the HUGE news to share would be my nearly 30 year search. Some of you know that my twin brother and I were adopted at birth. I was the smart and handsome older twin. Mom and Dad adopted us through their doctor and we could not have hand picked better parents. They were loving, they provided well, were supportive, and didn't drag us through a lot of the nightmares we hear about concerning children in the news. Throughout my childhood and in my 20's I was never really curious about my origins, though it's inevitable that it pops into the head of an adoptee from time to time randomly. But eventually the curiosity grew.
When I was starting to have kids of my own, I started to wonder what health issues I was passing on to my kids. Doctors visits are easy for adoptees. That 14 page list of potential health issues, the "have you or your father or mother ever had..." type questions that are on the pre-doctor's appointment forms that everyone dreads, for the adoptee, they simply have to scrawl the word "ADOPTED" diagonally across the page. DONE! BOOYA! I don't have give mom a quick call and ask her if she's ever had a "prolapsed hangnail due to complications from mad cow disease" because I really don't know or remember. So being adopted and not knowing your biological roots means you're also clueless about possible genetic health maladies you may be looking forward to, or what you're going to pass on to your progeny. I essentially had no health history.
Mind you, absolutely none of this whole process has anything at all to do with being unsatisfied with the parental hand I was dealt. Not at all. They were amazing parents, they ARE my parents; they are MY, and they always will be. I've had former posts bragging on my parents and all they did for and taught me. I was truly blessed (except for the times my car smelled like hog poop inside..and no, money does NOT smell like that).
Maybe another factor that made me be curious about my roots was the fact that about that same time, Dad was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). I knew he was going to die and I had a bit of a crisis. Nothing horrible, but it was truly a pivotal time in my life in more ways than one.
Someday I'm going to write the book I've threatened for years addressed to adoptees. For now I'll simply say that, in my opinion, whether they're aware of it or not or not there is a hole in the soul of every adoptee. Simply saying to an adoptee, "my parents had to take what they got, you were chosen" really doesn't fill that void. In fact, I'll say that no matter how loving and well meaning it is, avoid saying that to someone who was adopted. It can come across as a bit trite. It really seems like a good portion of the life of the adoptee is spent medicating the injured soul in various ways. The vast majority of chosen medication isn't healthy (i.e. alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, etc), and if it is healthy, it's over utilized (i.e. work, exercise, etc). I've done my share of medicating through the years. No, I'm not going to spill it all out in a free blog...you'll have to buy my book to get the juicy stuff! Freakin' Genius gotta eat!
I think the fact that Dad was dying made that damage to my soul a little more conscious to. I felt bad, however, even thinking about searching for my biological parents, especially at that particular time. I felt like I was somehow 'cheating' on my parents. I felt that somehow I was saying that they were sub par or not good enough. I felt like I was being an ungrateful ass even thinking about searching for my biological roots after all they had done for me and continued to do for me.
At the same time, I felt compelled to look. So on one visit to Mom and Dad's house in Missouri, I sat alone with Dad to talk about it. I actually wanted his permission and blessing. It was a somewhat emotional chat for me, but Dad was his typical stalwart self and listened to me express some of the above. He graciously understood and gave me his blessing with one condition: that I not speak to mom about it or let her know what I was doing. He obviously knew Mom and that her insecurities would get the best of her. I promised, and I've kept that promise to this day.
So the journey began. The path had a few twists and turns, and some extended breaks due to life in general, and some of the time stretch was waiting for technology to catch up. 29 years later, all of my questions have been answered. Have a great week! FG
Oh, so you want to know more? I'll tell you next week. Or in the next few. For now, I'll just say I found everyone. ALL of them: 2 Bio parents, 5 half brothers, and 5 half sisters, all part of my history. History prior to my grand entrance on this planet...roots....a genealogy...for the first time in my life, I have these. And I had one amazing Dad who raised me, loved me, who taught me, nurtured me, and kicked my butt as needed. I have one insecure, loving ,caring, involved, Mom who educated me, and got me prepared for life, who I'll do the best I can to love and nurture until she draws her last breath.
I think the HUGE news to share would be my nearly 30 year search. Some of you know that my twin brother and I were adopted at birth. I was the smart and handsome older twin. Mom and Dad adopted us through their doctor and we could not have hand picked better parents. They were loving, they provided well, were supportive, and didn't drag us through a lot of the nightmares we hear about concerning children in the news. Throughout my childhood and in my 20's I was never really curious about my origins, though it's inevitable that it pops into the head of an adoptee from time to time randomly. But eventually the curiosity grew.
When I was starting to have kids of my own, I started to wonder what health issues I was passing on to my kids. Doctors visits are easy for adoptees. That 14 page list of potential health issues, the "have you or your father or mother ever had..." type questions that are on the pre-doctor's appointment forms that everyone dreads, for the adoptee, they simply have to scrawl the word "ADOPTED" diagonally across the page. DONE! BOOYA! I don't have give mom a quick call and ask her if she's ever had a "prolapsed hangnail due to complications from mad cow disease" because I really don't know or remember. So being adopted and not knowing your biological roots means you're also clueless about possible genetic health maladies you may be looking forward to, or what you're going to pass on to your progeny. I essentially had no health history.
Mind you, absolutely none of this whole process has anything at all to do with being unsatisfied with the parental hand I was dealt. Not at all. They were amazing parents, they ARE my parents; they are MY, and they always will be. I've had former posts bragging on my parents and all they did for and taught me. I was truly blessed (except for the times my car smelled like hog poop inside..and no, money does NOT smell like that).
Maybe another factor that made me be curious about my roots was the fact that about that same time, Dad was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig's Disease). I knew he was going to die and I had a bit of a crisis. Nothing horrible, but it was truly a pivotal time in my life in more ways than one.
Someday I'm going to write the book I've threatened for years addressed to adoptees. For now I'll simply say that, in my opinion, whether they're aware of it or not or not there is a hole in the soul of every adoptee. Simply saying to an adoptee, "my parents had to take what they got, you were chosen" really doesn't fill that void. In fact, I'll say that no matter how loving and well meaning it is, avoid saying that to someone who was adopted. It can come across as a bit trite. It really seems like a good portion of the life of the adoptee is spent medicating the injured soul in various ways. The vast majority of chosen medication isn't healthy (i.e. alcohol, drugs, gambling, food, etc), and if it is healthy, it's over utilized (i.e. work, exercise, etc). I've done my share of medicating through the years. No, I'm not going to spill it all out in a free blog...you'll have to buy my book to get the juicy stuff! Freakin' Genius gotta eat!
I think the fact that Dad was dying made that damage to my soul a little more conscious to. I felt bad, however, even thinking about searching for my biological parents, especially at that particular time. I felt like I was somehow 'cheating' on my parents. I felt that somehow I was saying that they were sub par or not good enough. I felt like I was being an ungrateful ass even thinking about searching for my biological roots after all they had done for me and continued to do for me.
At the same time, I felt compelled to look. So on one visit to Mom and Dad's house in Missouri, I sat alone with Dad to talk about it. I actually wanted his permission and blessing. It was a somewhat emotional chat for me, but Dad was his typical stalwart self and listened to me express some of the above. He graciously understood and gave me his blessing with one condition: that I not speak to mom about it or let her know what I was doing. He obviously knew Mom and that her insecurities would get the best of her. I promised, and I've kept that promise to this day.
So the journey began. The path had a few twists and turns, and some extended breaks due to life in general, and some of the time stretch was waiting for technology to catch up. 29 years later, all of my questions have been answered. Have a great week! FG
Oh, so you want to know more? I'll tell you next week. Or in the next few. For now, I'll just say I found everyone. ALL of them: 2 Bio parents, 5 half brothers, and 5 half sisters, all part of my history. History prior to my grand entrance on this planet...roots....a genealogy...for the first time in my life, I have these. And I had one amazing Dad who raised me, loved me, who taught me, nurtured me, and kicked my butt as needed. I have one insecure, loving ,caring, involved, Mom who educated me, and got me prepared for life, who I'll do the best I can to love and nurture until she draws her last breath.
So glad you found us. Looking forward to learning more about your life.
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