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| Mom and I in Paterson, NJ |
Like many blended families, my adoptive dad met my mother and I became his. I learned very early in life the lack of our biological connection. I had to be seven years old. I vividly remember my mother sitting me on the couch, showing a photo and telling the story. The news pierced my heart. Shocked, I held the picture of my biological father to my chest, wondering, where was this man? Why wasn’t he here? Why didn’t he want me?
Overtime, I closed the piercing wound, although it was deeply marred with ugly scars. Bumpy and bruised, the wound didn’t heal properly. Improper healing led to bitterness. At the age of 16, my uncle asked me if I wanted to meet my biological father. Somehow, they had found him.
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| The Photo Mom Shared With Me |
Please don’t take offense, but I sometimes feel like our families don’t know how to address deep ugly wounds. Perhaps if my mother and uncle would have shared the news of my biological father together, instead of my uncle dropping me off at home, and then getting out of car and asking me on the sidewalk, I could have absorbed it better. I was sixteen. Another bomb just landed on my chest.
I am not blaming them. It was such a sensitive subject and I really think my mother and uncle didn’t know how to approach it. They did their best. And what now? How would my adoptive dad feel? I couldn’t hurt the man that was always there. Confused and heart-hardened, I declined. If I was not good enough for him then, 16 years later I am too good for him. Harsh words.
I didn't regret my words until I delivered my first child at 22 years old. Now, I was a mother and my daughter had an amazing father. Now, I understood the innate bond between parent and child. How could any parent ever walk away? I couldn't understand it. Even though I knew in many unique cases; adoption was the best answer. As for me, after delivery, more confusion set in about my biological father. I was his flesh and blood and he was gone.
Three years later, I had my second child, similar feelings resurfaced. My children were siblings. I also have siblings from both my mother and adoptive dad, but what about my biological father? Did I have siblings from him? Wait? What about grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins? There’s a whole band of my DNA in this world and I have no clue who they are.
When I moved from New York to North Carolina 12 years ago, I told the story to friends. They wanted to help me find my DNA connectors. We didn’t have much to work with — just a very common name and an old military picture. That was it. Even with today’s world wide web, we came up short.
Some things in this life, we will never know. I don't have a bucket list. But if I did, this would be on it. I’m writing because I want to know my biological other half. I want to know their family history, their medical history. Initially, I said I was afraid to write this because of what people will think. Some might say, just move on, you're blessed. That is so true. I'm grateful for my amazing family, all sides of it -- my biological, my adoptive, my step family, my in-laws.
I don’t think about Mr. Adams every day. Yes, my biological father’s last name is Adams. For some reason, in the month of June on Father's day, I think of him. If he’s not passed on, I always wonder, does he think of me?
Until we meet again,
Brook Lynn
Brook Lynn Dorcent
Author/Coach/Inspirational Speaker
Host: JUST WRITE REVIEW
Founder/Facilitator: JUST WRITE! - A Club for Writers
Missing the Mark (Novel One)
Pressing Toward the Mark (Novel Two)
Forgetting Betrayal (Novel Three)
Above All (Novel Four)
His Wedding Vow (A Novel) Coming Soon
Spirit Over Will (Devotional)
OUTStanding (Memoir/Teen Guide)
Why Not...Read for Love
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