Regardless of the Origin of our Roots: Our Tree Reaches for the Same Sun

In a few weeks, I am going to attend a presentation on genealogy.  I have always wondered where my ancestors came from, what did they do for a living, and the overarching interest in finding out what tie there is between who I am now and my past.  I have been blessed to have had the benefit of grandparents who lived until their 80’s and 90’s and my husband’s dad is in his 90’s.  We have had conversations and learned of some of our family history but it isn’t enough.  I want to learn more.

However, this raises many feelings about what happens when my son and daughter start having similar interests.  We have some basic history on their birth parents…..on birth mom’s side, we know that there is a sister who, too, was adopted and now lives in California, a brother down in Texas, and a sister in Florida.  Our twins also have three nephews…one lives with his great-grandmother in Kentucky, one was placed with an adoptive family and the other lives with his mother (Bruiser & Princess’ sister).  We know that their birth mom lived in Las Vegas as of a year ago.  Their birth dad is a merchant marine based out of Florida and he has a son, who, also, calls Florida home.  Most of our twins’ birth family is geographically spread out and moves quite a bit.

I realize that the whole genealogy thing is hard for everyone……..constantly going down paths that lead to dead ends….but then one little piece of the puzzle connects to another, and another to yet another and so on.  I wonder when my twins will have the curiosity to seek out their genealogy.  Will it be in 10 years………will it be later?  What will their genealogy tree look like?

Far more complicated than ours……….but no less important and vital to their understanding of who they are.

Bruiser –you are my son.  Princess – you are my daughter.

Although you were not born from my belly,

Although your family tree will have a few more branches on it,

Although the roots may be a distance apart,

Our leaves reach up to the same sky, seek the same sunshine, and breathe the same air.

A New Grandchild by Pa

I was cleaning out a desk the other day and stumbled upon something my dad wrote about a year or so before he died.  At the time, I needed an article for the Adoption Choices newsletter and asked him to write something.  What follows is an excerpt from that article.  I thought it would be a fitting post for this month.  With thanks to the man who gave me my love of words…

I remember how excited my daughter and her husband were when they told me they were planning to adopt a baby. My feelings and those of my wife were a bit more complicated. We were excited, of course, but we were also anxious – not worried, but anxious. The baby was going to be born in California. California’s a long way from Massachusetts; we just thought so many things could happen.

A few months later, my wife and I got a phone call telling us the baby was about to be born. My daughter and her husband got on a plane and hoped to arrive in California in time for the birth. We waited for a call to let us know they had arrived safely, and we waited for the call to let us know the baby had been born. When those calls finally came, we were very relieved. Baby K was born; she was healthy, and from what we were told, she was beautiful. With our other grandchildren, this call would have resulted in us driving to the hospital to verify this information ourselves. K was our sixth grandchild; we had quite a bit of experience with these things. But this grandchild was 3,000 miles away. There would be no drive to the hospital. We would have to wait, and so many things could happen.

We waited and waited to meet K.  For over two weeks, we waited.   We thought if they could just get home, it would be okay. Finally, on day fifteen, they boarded a plane headed back to Logan Airport. My wife and I drove up from Connecticut and were there waiting to greet them when they departed from the plane.  We looked at K and said how beautiful she was. And yes, my daughter had told me this two weeks earlier but a grandfather likes to see for himself.

In anticipation of the many visits K would make to our house, my wife insisted the baby needed a crib there. We bought a crib and although winter was at least six months away, we also bought a gorgeous pink snowsuit. The snowsuit seemed big to me, but I trusted my wife’s expertise in this area. Well, three winters came and went before K was ever big enough to fill that snowsuit but she used the crib quite a bit.  I remember the visits after she started walking. She would lead us all in a never ending pots and pans parade around the house. With the precision of a parade Grand Marshall and the temperament of a drill sergeant, she led us around and around. Ignoring our requests for relief or respite, refusing to accept any letters of resignation offered, she marched on and expected us to follow suit.

 K is a young lady now. She has been the source of many stories I tell my friend. She’s the leader I envisioned when I followed her around my house banging my pot and pan. She is healthy. She is happy. She is beautiful. And she is my granddaughter. Yes, so many things can happen when you adopt a grandchild.