Ignoring the details, the major consequence of this discovery was an emotional split in my existence. This happened about two seconds after hearing that I was "adopted.” It is not clear how I recognized the split. There was no neon sign. I did not have a conversation with myself. But the whole concept seemingly condensed into an awareness, the content being that I was merely biding my time until I found my real family and began living my real life. This conception existed on a level more basic than language and was more determinate of my behavior. Everything from then on for many years was contingent on something occuring in the future. Life happened while I waited for it to begin.The adoption component of this book is a necessary part. To know who we are we have to see who we were. I had occasion recently to review the essentially completed first section of the book. (Badgerhillpress.com). It was important to write this, and I did not feel detached doing so, but for sure I did not want to give the impression this was an adoption book. An adoption book can easily become a waiting for reunion story, which becomes like waiting for Godot. It is one thing to learn from the past and another to hope for a do-over. The first goal is always to undo the loss. Then we repeat that which we cannot accept. And finally, lessons serve as consolation prizes. The premise becomes that some adjustment to yesterday will make everything better today.
There are several problems with this. One is that we cannot erase the past. “I kept you in my prayers” does not cancel thirty years of consequences. Another is that the unavailable becomes idealized and thus held even tighter. Finally, we grow by doing, not from receiving, and life is lived playing hurt. Everyone is an All-American when waiting for the perfect moment, which of course never comes. The only moment we get to make a difference is the one we have right now--sprains, tape, headaches, et al.
I have totally bought into Ernest Hocking’s belief that life is about finding one’s task and doing it. It is not relevant whether the task is possible or not. The important questions are, 1) does it need to be done, and 2) does the finger of responsibility point in your direction?
I bring this up because on reviewing the adoption section of Requiem it appeared to deserve better than a backward glance en route to today's task. I probably fear getting stuck again waiting for reunion, but that is all the more reason to pay attention. The past does affect us. There is and will always be a pull to what could and should have been. In me at least, nothing erases the loss that occurred when my life became a charade.
The problem was not that the Andersens were not my natural parents. It was that they were not honest adoptive parents. Instead, they pretended to be natural parents. My father once said that he always treated me as if I was his real son. He gave that no thought, but he would have noticed had I responded in turn that I always treated him as if he were my real father. My legal status had nothing to do with this. Even black-market parents would have worked had they been truthful about it. Why should I care whether or not I was not processed through a social service agency? The problem was lack of honesty, not lack of blood ties or paperwork.
Anyway, I am elevating the first section of the book into a component worthy on its own. Adoption is not the point of the book. The point of the book is to find my task and do it, and that for sure does not involve sitting on the sideline waiting for lightening to strike. But the adoption stuff matters. It has a place in understanding how best to respond to loss. I cannot say it has a place in the adoption community today because my idea of resolution and their prevailing dogma that adoption is win/win are antithetical. But it should belong there, just as I should have belonged with my natural family.
I think one needs to emotionally realize a loss and understand that it is a part of one’s life. This means feeling the experience, reliving it when it returns in its manifold presentations, and holding on during those storms until they pass. This exposes the experience to our reasoning abilities thus expanding our capacity to process it. The pithy line “you have to feel before you can heal” makes sense. Trying to blow sunshine does not. The crucial element is to hold on when the storms occur. "What if I can't," asked Marvin in group? "Hold tighter," came the answer. Weather never goes away, but storms do. They will return. But so what? It is a small price to pay for gaining some control.
We will always hurt revisiting loss, no matter how many years have passed. But that should not keep us from doing our task. It might even help because it can direct us to that which is important. It is impossible to explain vision to the blind. It is necessary to have grieved in order to empathize and experience loss in others. Empathy is a strong motivator, without which one might have little to do other than perhaps watch reality television. Fortunately, that does not appear to be my task.Mindless humanism does not work for me either. My natural concern is for animals. I have always had an honest relationship with them. They are less prone to become entitled than are people. There needs to be reciprocity in relationships, and animals appreciate this better than people do. Anyway, it is my task to choose, not someone else's. So I care for the critters. The issue is between me and Nature, not me and some ethical flavor of the day.
The CliffsNotes: Adoption matters here but only as a means of looking forward, not as an end when looking backwards. Adoption finds itself in the broad category of loss, with the caveat that the ruling class of the adoption community has a political interest in denying there is any loss at all. Those who see loss in adoption and those who do not cannot both be right. There is a truth here, a reality that corresponds to the situation, and the first person perspective gets my vote on just what that reality is. That determination is easy enough; it is just that the reality is difficult.
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