"Closure"

I just finished watching a documentary about a girl named Angela.  What a beautiful girl, both sweet and strong.  This is her story about her journey finding her birthmother and birthfather.  She was looking for closure.  This struck a chord with me...from several very different angles.  The first and most obvious is that of our son...who is adopted.  He was adopted at six days old.  I am reminded of the importance and great meaning it is to send letters with updates and pictures to the adoption agency so that the birthmother can, if she wishes, be comforted that their child is well cared for.  The loss a birthmother feels is great, beyond words...the secrets that she holds for years, decades even and the sadness and grief she carries, alone...

I felt the initial fear of the adoptive mother when her daughter wanted to embark on searching for her birthparents and yet the reassurance that we as adoptive parents cannot be replaced.  We hold a special place in the heart of our child and always will so we can be free to allow our children to do what they need to do and to support them in that endeavor; a search for peace, for understanding.  That they would know their roots, where they came from; the cloth they were made from.  It's natural for us to want to know who we look like, what our story is generationally; our heritage...

I think of our our son and how he may have brothers and sisters, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles...all a piece of him and he, a part of them...

One comment that was made by Angela's sister after they had just connected, was "What kind of a woman would I be if I had had a sister to go through life with"...this hit me...deeply....

My sister Jackie died when I was four-years-old.  I miss her so much sometimes and it seems I miss her even more now than ever.  What would I have been like if I had a sister to love, to fight with, to share secrets with?  I would be a different person today, no doubt...maybe less reserved...less fearful of sharing who I am with others...more affectionate.  So many memories we could share and so many struggles that she would understand.  Of course, these are all dreams...who knows how it all would've turned out...but the dream haunts me  today.  The loss of her in my life, in my journey not to mention the loss of my grandmother as well.  How can one miss those they haven't seen or remember so deeply?  As I get older, I think of them more and more and long to have long talks about life and how it has turned out and how I wish they could have been a part of my story over the last forty-four years before they left this earth.  Maybe many things would make sense...

I also think about how I lost my mother in so many ways too...just like Angela lost her birthmother; yet she had an adoptive mother who loves her and supports her.   My heart is broken over a loss that I just have no clue how to "fix"...I grieve over this so much...how I wish the clock could be turned back and life's picture could be painted again...a little touch up here, a major revision there....this painting seems so bleak; all color is lost.  

How I long for closure too...