Beneath the placid surface lies the unquenchable thirst for answers arise.
Lines of truth in vain I trace to fill the void and empty space.
They thought the quest to find would die, that determination could not survive.
For connections severed and erased to a life uprooted and displaced.
My desperate soul in sorrow cries as I give the puzzle one more try.
Collecting fragments left in place.
Searching for pieces of my face.
My poetry is an attempt to express the inner turmoil and angst I have about being adopted and left in the dark about it. Add to that not only not having a reunion of any sort but instead after decades of searching, with the best searchers help and guidance, not being able to obtain names, photos, or family background either I live feeling like half a person. It is a life attempting to navigate in a land of fantasy and make believe, and one where you vacillate between life long dreams realized and the nightmare that is rejection.
It's obvious from the information and stories I have gathered from the adoption courts a good deal of secrecy, lies, manipulation, and probably money have covered up the trails back to my biological family. I do not have many tangibles or facts but I was lucky enough, if you want to call it that sometimes I do some days I don't, to receive a non-identifying letter via the courts from my biological mother explaining some of the circumstances regarding my adoption situation, family history, but not too much because sshhhhhh I am still a huge secret 53 years later. I have her words on paper giving me her physical traits, hobbies, and personality that I inherited and the fact I have two younger siblings out there somewhere who don't know I exist. It's just enough information to leave you wanting more, SO much more. My biological father wants nothing to do with any of it and washed his hands of the situation before I was born and denies the adoption court any and all information. I am not asking for relationships at this point, am I asking for the truths about my life, my DNA, and where I came from.
I also remain in that small percentile of adoptees I know and work with in adoption reform and activism who have never found, or are even being searched for. I have watched, and been extremely happy and excited for all other adoptees who have received answers to their questions and resolution to their searches, but always hoping it would be me at some point too. But, when you never obtain that as an adoptee it can only lead to further feeling the outsider. I am out of the loop in reunion conversation making me feel even more deeply, the loss I have sustained. And the one question that always looming close, how can I ever feel whole if I always feel “lost”.
My biological parents and the adoption courts hold my truths in their hands and unfairly deny my court petitions. I remain blind to my family history, as do my siblings, along with extended family members who are being cheated out of the right to know who I am. These secrets and lies surrounding my adoption trump my right to the truth! And at age 53 I still feel reduced to an unworthy child when it comes to knowledge about my adoption. It is not near my birthday, or Mother's Day, or any Holiday, there is no reason I feel like this other than it just "is". It is an invisible cross that I carry each and every day that never gets lighter, like an albatross perpetually hanging around my neck.