This is only for my
blog friends and readers, (and a few personal friends I will email privately). I will delete it from networked blogs that feed into
Facebook. (Interesting, well maybe not, how much I trust you not to say
anything weird, as opposed to the general public.)
I picked up my
granddaughter from school today, spent a couple hours with her, her step-mom
and the sibs, then after dinner went to her chorus concert at the high school.
Which was great — she didn’t get the solo she’d hoped for, but certainly was
among the most animated of the large group. She had a blast! I brought a
bouquet of pink and purple flowers for my darling diva.
A couple nights ago, I
asked her if her dad was coming. She said, “uh no, I told him about it, but
said you were coming.” Apparently, he’s not big on attending these sorts of
things, nonetheless I told her that it was silly for him not to come (if he
wanted to) simply because I would there. She told him I was okay with him
coming, and then told me he was. (I wondered if he would have if she hadn’t said
I was coming.)
Yeah, I was a little
nervous. After all, it’s been a few years since we’ve been face-to-face. But I
figured it would be a good opening into seeing each other again, if that was
ever to happen.
I arrived with Jenn
and the kids. Jenn saw him pull in and so we waited in the parking lot. When he
caught up with us, I opened my arms and hugged him. We chatted casually as we
made our way into the building and took our seats in the auditorium.
I wasn’t at all
uncomfortable. In fact, I loved seeing him — the son that I have loved for
almost 42 years, even though we’ve had our problems. The mirror in each other’s
eyes. Hearing his laugh and laughing back with him. The old longing to be with
him was back, although yes, shadowed by unfortunate recent history, and the
fear and mistrust that that has brought.
I could tell that he
was bored as the concert progressed. After about an hour, he said he had to go
do something, didn’t know the concert would last that long. He asked if I was
going to hang around after, and I said, no, I would take Naomi bacl and then
head home. I was surprised that he didn’t want to hang around and have a few
private moments with me… and yes, maybe relieved. Maybe this was just enough
for now.
10 comments:
What a nice way to break the ice. Perhaps he felt a bit awkward as well.
You gave me a lot of strength to navigate my reuniion with my son so I want to say thank you and that I am happy for you.
Wow! Glad that went well! What a surprise. I hope that the future will bring other opportunities for your relationship to slowly be whatever is best for you and for him. Love you, Mad Joy
Sometimes baby steps are the best. I can only imagine the emotions you went through last night. Stay strong. *hug*
Margie
Nothing particularly wise that I can add, just happy that you saw him again and my hope that the two of you can find a mutually enjoyable, supportive, and loving relationship.
This was nice to hear. Thanks for sharing.
Gail
I'm happy that you were able to see and hug your son again!
Thanks to all for your comments, both here and personally.
I received an email from him today, apologizing for leaving early and hoping that we can get together soon. I answered that it was fine, it was good to see him and that we will.
Glad you were able to connect with him, Denise.
Denise, I finished the book last night. While I couldn't put it down, there were so many different feelings running through my mind and heart. 1) Did you ever consider contacting Josh's adoptive father? I had the feeling that it would have shed some light on his personality. 2) I am the mother of two adopted children. While my son (1969)desperately needs to connect with his BM as he has always considered that he was "dumped," my daughter (1967) has contacted hers. It hasn't been the best experience of her life. I have met her BM, but I have to admit that when she told me recently that she had sent her a Mother's Day card, a pang of jealousy sliced through me. Who would have thought adoption would be difficult when I so enjoyed my role as mother. Thank you for writing your memoir.
Marianne
I just wanted to drop you a note to let you know how much I enjoyed your book. I found myself reading it in one setting. I found myself relating to you in so many ways. I am a birthmother. At the age of 16 (in 1985), I found myself living in a different state with the family that would take me in until I delivered. I was scared and alone. Like you, I was encouraged not to see my son, but I did. Like you, I never went to my six week checkup after delivering. I was also told never to speak of it. My brother never knew. I was to go on with life like nothing ever happened.
Through many obstacles, closed records, and a private adoption (which I did not consent to), I found my son almost three years ago. Unfortunately, my son has not wanted anything to do with me. At first just knowing that he was okay was enough for me. Now, I want to know so much more. Unfortunately, his mother has had a huge influence on him and has discouraged any connection to me. I feel confident that she never thought I would find him.
I thought I did everything correct by contacting her first to let her know that I was searching for my son. However, I waited patiently for a reply from her and never received one. After many months, and no reply, I contacted him. Two days after making contact with him, I got the most beautiful letter. Then as quick as I received it, he ended contact. It came out of nowhere. One letter was all I got.
I write a blog to reflect my feelings, I go to a therapist, and I also rely on my husband to help me get through. I am not a deadbeat mom that did not learn from her mistake. I went on to college, received my bachelor, master, and specialist degrees. I am a teacher, wife, and mother.
When I saw your book, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to read it. I worried it would be another “everything is great” book. Your book has touched me in many ways. I visualized myself in many of the situations you reflected on (especially your relationship with your mother). My mother, to this day, will not discuss it with me. Here I am at 43 years old and avoid any conversation with her regarding my son.
Thank you for writing a beautiful book, so raw and real. Thank you for sharing your experience with others. Thank you for being so honest.
I can only hope that one day my son will come to me.
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