Time passes
“You’re only killing time and it will kill you right back.”
Meat Loaf
I got some weird news today. The lawyer who handled my adoption passed away earlier this month. I knew he had been sick, but last I heard he was getting better.
His daughters are also adopted and we grew up together at church as little kids and later at high school. I barely remember him but it still hurts a bit to know he has passed. I don’t know why. I think it’s a peice of my past has been lost. I had sent him an email requesting any information he had quite a while ago but never heard back.
It makes me think about my blood mom and her mortality. We all hope to have a happy reunion when we begin searching but it doesn’t always happen. Some find death has beaten them to the goal. In some ways I almost wonder if that would have been better. It would have given a sense of closure but now I have to just wait for her to decide what to do. But what if she passes away in the mean time? How do I deal with that? So close and yet so far?
It makes me think about my own parents as well. When my Grandfather and Grand mother passed away, I barely cried. I don’t think that I stuffed it, just that I felt detached, no emotion at all. Since I began this journey, I feel all the time. Sometimes I wish I didn’t any more but it feels good as well.
Of course, this makes me think of my own mortality and my wife. While I do believe that I will go to heaven, I still agree with the “rage against the dying of the light.”
Then I round it out with worrying about my son. I watch shows and if a child is hurt or killed, I get the urge to just run over and give him a hug, even if he isn’t around. Actually maybe more so then. I don’t think I would survive him being hurt or killed. Maybe only long enough to exact vengence, but not much after that. Anyway, down that path lies insanity.
Okay, I don’t do this all the time. I haven’t become a psychopathic hermit. I haven’t gone all morbid, wearing black all the time with a black rose pinned to my jacket. I have actually been having a great week, heck a great month but every once in a while, I get worried that I will never meet her.
April 25th, 2006 at 10:37 pm
I love your writing, I am a mom reunited and I also have two more boys that I am raising, this comment here (a little cut up)
I don’t think I would survive him being hurt or killed . Anyway, down that path lies insanity.
I relate to that with my boys, the pain I feel at the thought of bieng without one more of them makes me feel crazy, I cant think about that it gets my anxiety up, way up.
April 25th, 2006 at 10:38 pm
oh and I really hope you get to meet her.
April 26th, 2006 at 12:25 pm
I wonder if we tend to have these fears about losing our loved ones more than other non-adopted people? I know I get anxiety filled thoughts at the wierdest times. They come and go quickly but they are frightening.
The waiting sucks. I hope she steps up soon. But you’re right feeling is better than not feeling. Hang in there!
April 26th, 2006 at 12:26 pm
I hope that you and your mom reunite, and that it goes well. ((wraith))
May 3rd, 2006 at 11:11 am
Wow. I could have written most of this post myself. You express things that hadn’t come to the surface in me yet.
“It makes me think about my blood mom and her mortality. We all hope to have a happy reunion when we begin searching but it doesn’t always happen. Some find death has beaten them to the goal. In some ways I almost wonder if that would have been better. ”
So true. Death was at the end of my search, and with it a door sealed shut forever. The bad part is that I will forever be fantasizing about my nmother, grasping on any straw that proves to me that she could do no wrong, etc. because that’s what we tend to do when we don’t know the truth.
I felt nothing when myagrandparents died and nothing when my amother died. I stuffed it when my afather died because he was the first to go and it felt like another abandonment. I was devastated.
I feel exactly the same with my own children that you feel about your son. I think if anything were to happen to them that I would implode into an infinite wound.