Letting Go

Letting go. It means so many different things. It could mean letting go of the fact that I'm adopted by my step-father. It could mean letting go of the fact that I lost my first born to adoption. It could mean letting go of the anger I feel towards my family for forcing me to hide my pregnancy, forcing me to let my baby go to strangers. It could mean letting go of the children I raised as they grow up and learn to live on their own and make their own way. I kid around about creating a bubble of space, a family compound, in which my kids have to move around in as adults. We don't want them to move too far away from us. Is it me making demands on them that I shouldn't? They have the right to make their own way in the world. What right do I have to limit their range of movement? I don't have that right. I know that I resist their movement away from me and it's partially because of my own history. I know there's a part of me that wants to keep them close by so I don't have to deal with losing them. They shouldn't have to pay for my history.

Today is my birthday and I wonder... does my father's family think of me? After 54 years, do they wonder about me on my birthday? Does my Uncle Tommy wonder what happened to his brother's child? Does my Aunt Shirley wonder why I left the family? Do they wonder if things had been different, would they have more family to consider, more family to think of as the years go by? I don't know. I was never given the opportunity to have those questions answered. I was never given the chance to know those people. As a grandmother myself, did my grandmother grieve losing me? I was her son's child. Did that cause her grief? I know, having a granddaughter from my only son, that it would certainly cause me grief to lose contact with that little girl. I can't even imagine not having my little granddaughter in my life. What was that like for my grandmother?

Lately I've been wondering about my relationship with my (raised) kids and how their lives have been affected by the surrender of my first born to adoption. Do I smother them? Do I make them feel like they can't get away from us because of my need to "mother" them? Does my need to mother keep them tied to me longer than would be normal? Does my need to "mother" cause them to work harder to break away? Do they miss the relationship they could have had with the sister that was denied to them? My daughter grew up with a brother but she didn't grow up with a sister. Would that have changed her in some way? There are so many questions and many of them left unanswered.

Letting go is something to be explored.... later date..... another time......