I got a call from a first cousin on my mother's side of the family last night who was staying in town for the night, so Ice and I met him and his family at the restaurant for a while to visit and for Ice to get acquainted. He had never met my cousin and I hadn't actually "visited" with Rick in many years. I had seen him and spoke to him briefly at his mother's funeral a few years back, but that was about all. So.....we met them last night and had a nice visit. Rick's Dad (Willie) and Ernest have always been my favorite uncles, but I was around Willie much more in my life than Ernest. I seem to identify most to my mother's side of the family, probably because I inherited all the characteristics and mannerisms from that side, as well as the light complexion.
And it's the family I almost never met.
See, my mother was born in a boxcar to a mother that died four years later of colon cancer. So, with eight kids to tend to, her father decided it was best to give her and her younger sister (Peggy) up for adoption. They were adopted by separate families in the same area. My mother's adoptive parents thought it best not to let her continue contact with her real family and at age four, she quickly forgot them for the most part. Apparently the agreement was that her real family not be allowed to contact her by any means also. Peggy's adoptive family, on the other hand, chose to keep her in close contact with her real family, so she grew up knowing both.
Peggy actually went to the same school as my mother one particular year and she knew Mom was her sister but was strictly forbidden to approach her or reveal who she was.
So, Mom grew up only knowing her adoptive family and from what I understand, didn't have that keen of a childhood. She was well fed and clothed and didn't want for creature comforts at all, but I think her adoptive parents were just not very affectionate.
She married my Dad at the tender age of 15 and a few months after they married, she attended a skating party with one of her girlfriends. There was a guy there that kept asking her to skate with him and she kept refusing, since she was married and that was not a proper thing to do. He was obviously pretty persistant and she finally just told him no....that she was married. But he didn't go away. Instead, he very gently told her that he was her brother. Only after she married did he feel he could approach and tell her of her true family. This was my Uncle Ernest, the youngest of her three brothers. I always thought that was a neat story.
Ernest then introduced her to the rest of her family a little at a time and they all welcomed her back with open arms. I wonder sometimes if she really appreciated that gesture, but whether she did or not, I feel so blessed that I am considered part of the family and have known most of them since I was born. I think my mother has always had a problem with being given up for adoption in the first place and knowing the type of atmosphere she was raised in, I think she would have been better off staying with her biological family. I think she harbors resentment toward them, although I think it is unfounded. But my childhood was much different than hers, so who am I to judge? Sometimes I think my mother is so consumed with anger and hate that maybe it wouldn't have mattered what kind of childhood she had, she wouldn't have appreciated either one.
Personally, I feel blessed to know them. Especially when I think how easily that link might not have ever happened. I would have always felt something was missing, I think. There is such a strong connection and bond with one's family, that I would imagine the lack of that connection would be a very hard thing. It's no wonder to me that adopted children seek to find their birth parents and their families. It's something to anchor their lives to. It's their roots.
This rambling is just a sample of what I have thought about since our visit with Rick and his family. It struck me that even after so many years, the bond was still very strong. He's my family, simple as that. And I'm so proud to have the opportunity to know him.
Ernest passed away a year ago and the oldest brother (Chester) passed away a month later. I sometimes wonder if my mother feels the same sense of loss that I do. My mother and Peggy are the only remaining sisters out of five and Uncle Willie the last brother. Willie and my mother are both in very bad health, so my family seems to be dwindling away. Peggy is such a joy to be with and even tho I don't get to see her very often, I feel more loved by her than I do by my own mother. Strange but true.
Mom has always tried to keep my sister and I at a distance from her family and will manipulate and lie and even threaten to keep us from enjoying each other. Thankfully, she hasn't succeeded, especially since we became adults and pretty much do what we please, which makes her even angrier.
I wonder if my mother's lifetime of anger and unhappiness is a result of the fact that she was not allowed to know her biological family as a child. I wonder if her own inner demons would have made her the way she is regardless of her childhood. I wonder a lot of things and always will.
I wish she had cherished her family the way they want to cherish her and do, despite her actions toward them. She is one of those people that pushes people away with her anger, then preaches the (fact) that no one loves her or cares about her. I've never understood it and never will. I cringe to think of all she has missed out on in her life, mostly by her own actions. I can't imagine life without being embraced by your family and the freedom to embrace them back.