The holidays are upon us again. It’s a time of joy, but also a time for sadness for many. All of the positive images of family and love can make people long for what they don’t have. I’m one of those people.
I have a wonderful family. Husband and 4 grown children. My eldest daughter is expecting a daughter in April. This makes me so happy! I cannot wait to meet the little one. K, my daughter is 32, and not married to the father. In fact, she only knew him for 4 moths before she fell pregnant. In the old days, she’d be a great candidate for adoption. Not in my house though. Never, never ever. We will love that baby, and my daughter and do everything we can to help and support them. Granddaughter! What a beautiful word.
I was born November 13, and relinquished on November 18. This is always a trying time of year for me. I was in a foster home, somewhere for my first Thanksgiving. I don’t know who I was with, or what name they called me. Was I Marylee, what my mother named me, or did they just call me another name they made up?
I arrived at my adoptive parents house on December 13. Just in time for my first, terrifying Christmas. Why terrifying? I didn’t know these people, and my A-mom was always rather terrifying to me.
I have no idea what my natural family does for the holidays. Do they still gather as a large group, or do my aunts and uncles celebrate with their own growing families of children and grandchildren? I will never know, because I will never be allowed into that family. They say it’s because of the way I behave, but I think it’s because I was relinquished. I think they can forgive one of their own, if they behave badly, but I must be shunned if I do. And, the extent of my bad behavior has been my anguish over my adoption.
Every holiday, I still foolishly hope I’ll get something from my family. I never do. I never will.