Happy Gotcha Day

(Orginally posted at Wordpress on 10/31/07)

Yep, tomorrow is going to be my 34th Gotcha Day. Thank god my aparents never uttered that disgusting phrase, nor did they even make any sort of reference to the day they brought me home. And I am so glad for that. I'm glad they didn't make a big deal out of everything that I lost.

November 1, 1973, the day I was permanently separated from my mother, my father, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins.

The day I went from being who I was born to be, to being who I became by the randomness of adoption.

No wonder I have been avoiding this blog and feeling rather down lately, although it has never seemed to hit me this hard (nor my birthdays, either); but for some reason, this year both of these anniversaries are triggering the HELL out of me. Maybe it's because I finally have a place where people really understand this, where I have finally been able to delve deep within myself and really, truly, be able to be honest. And, the best part is, receiving nothing but support and understanding along the way.

I was digging through some pictures the other day and found one from my Reunion Day. The only picture I have of my mother and me, together. Seeing it brought back a flood of emotions - sadness, anger, longing. Two people who have been forever damaged by this "beautiful thing" called adoption.

(Pic removed...)

*sigh* I wish I still had that hair.

(Notice how we both chose to wear green for our first meeting? Like mother, like daughter, eh?)

I am so angry at all of this. I feel so helpless, wishing I knew how I could get through to her, get her to respond to me. I wish I knew what was really going on inside her head, why she shut down on me, why she continues to evade this.

I long for that which was lost...the closeness with my entire family; those years of togetherness and memories, the things that make a family a family...the closeness that they all share and that I can never, ever be a part of, no matter how much I wish I could be.

After all, we're still pretty much strangers.

I'm glad I have my Gran. I wish I could see my brother more often, and my Aunt B., I wish I could have been a part of my half-sister's life when she was growing up. I wish I had known my cousins, and shared the same familial closeness that they do. I even miss the father who I only met once, but for all his abrasive qualities, we seemed to be a lot alike. I'm glad I met him that one time, at least he was good enough to give me that.

It's something I've never even had in my a-family; us adopted kids, my oldest brother and me, were always looked upon as outsiders.

So much has happened, so much lost, and it feels like nothing is ever gained.

So Happy Gotcha Day to me, but please hold the cake and the noisemakers. For me, this is just no reason whatsoever to celebrate.