When visiting the Oregon Coast for a long weekend with my husband, my two young sons, and my adoptive mom, I avoided calling my birth-uncle on my birthmom's side, Steve, who lives in the same town we were visiting. Although I had planned to visit, had told them I was going to be in town, I avoided getting things set. Part of that is just me - my personality is to not nail anything down and, instead, play it by ear. Besides I'm awful about being in touch (to birthdad John - if I still haven't talked to you by the time I post this, I'm really sorry, but know I've been thinking about you and have even put a trip out to you and Lark camp on the calendar for next year - really sorry). But another part of it is that even after all these years, it's still just weird to combine the worlds of my birthfamily and my adoptive family. This frustrates me, I should be used to it - this isn't a new thing. Yet, as accepting as everyone is, it's still uncomfortable for me. This trip helped me see why that is.