I spent a long time chating with my biological father today. He is very spiritual in a lot of ways. He has learned from his past and discovered meaning after a life of partying. My contact started with him about a month ago. But it goes further than that.
I always knew I was adopted. I grew up proud of it, and I knew I was adopted from birth on. I am adopted, I was adopted. It doesn't matter to me. I also always knew that when I turned 18 I was going to look for my other parents. My boyfriend drove me to the state capitall three times to sign papers, and the office of Non-Identifing Search Reunion Adoptive some-crappy-name-state-department was closed. Finally one day we notorized the forms. Non identifying information is about half a page long, demographic information that the birthmother chooses to provide. Mine had just enough to lead me to microfilm newspaper records, yearbooks and three possible mothers. Long story short it only took me a week to find her and make the call. She was living a state away, but grew up near my adoptive extended family. And her family, including my half sisters still live and lived where I am, a couple of miles away.
I told my mom first. She made me tell my extended family on a stupid idea. My cousin went to school with my sisters. My dad was excited, but he knew that my biological mom was still into smoking and other stuff that causes problems. They learned all of that stuff when they signed the papers to adopt me.
Since then, two years ago, I have kept in contact with one sister. Attended a couple of birthdays and celebrations that she always invites me to, and talked to different grandparents and aunts. One day my biograndmother calls me and says we have to talk. I visited her on that Saturaday, and I had never talked to her that much before. She handed me a phone number with a name, James. A name I knew to be my birthdads, from what my biomom could remember about him.
I wanted to wait three weeks at least because he had made me wait 20 years. Then I called him the next day. A couple states away, he had recently lived very near me. I took my biograndpa's advice and let him do all the tallking, and I stayed silent, a hard feat for me.
He wasn't what I imangined. He told me things I didn't want to know, about abortions, drugs, abuse, and trying to find me. About how my biomom went back to him when I was two and told him he was a dad. I am his only child. Thats hard. I was fated the life that I live and I love it. I wouldn't trade any of it. After watching what I've seen with my siblings we wouldn't be to much different from each other either way.
I talk to biodad more often than biomom, because she has so much drama already in her life. I think that it is good to know roots, but they aren't everything. Blood certainly is not thicker than water. It is about the relationships we build. I've dicovered that two families, or in this case three, is better than just one. It's nice to have those that nurtured you, saw your first steps and taught you to dance. It's also nice to finally see those who understand your strange dreams, nit-picky habits, and your lust for art. It is all in how we make it out to be.