On this Father’s Day I have mixed feelings about everything. It is strange how circumstances can jolt you and show you the truth that you have been in denial regarding. Mickey’s (the adoptive father) illness has shed light on matters I was not certain of.
I may have experienced inklings but deep down in my heart I was thinking, “Say it ain’t so”. After much soul searching and introspection it has become crystal clear to me that my adoptive parents made a decision concerning me by the time, I was 18 years old.
They decided they were going to write me off. They then began their worldwide search within Minnie’s family and my maternal biological family to replace me. You see the adoption was a farce from the beginning.
This is why there has been a witch hunt of sorts for evil minded persons outside of the family and within the family to get their hands on my adoption documents. When I lived in Florida, my eldest aunt sent me a note along with my original adoption decree and birth certificate warning me to guard the papers with my life. It was as if she knew chicanery and deception were brewing.
The fact that I was not willing to put up and shut up made me a liability and a constant reminder of how much the family hated my biological father. Essentially, I was set up for failure from the inception. As I stated many times before the adoption was not about me.
It was about helping their sister and my birth mother to cover her tracks, so she did not come off as one of those mothers who abandoned her child. But seriously, I am sure they cringed every moment. As you all may have surmised by now, I am not a hypocrite.
I call things the way I see them. These past few weeks, although I have been upset about Mickey’s health, I was awakened to the reality of the situation. It is clear that both Minnie and Mickey do not “consider” me in the manner they should.
Therefore, although I have all these nostalgic feelings and conflicts going on internally, I know the situation is rather moot since they ruled on my place in their lives a long time ago. I have been the one declaring my status while they sat back being silent. They fully well knew they did not handle the adoption matter appropriately.
Just the other day I was reminded that my discontent has been well founded. I noticed an announcement by a couple on social media who adopted a baby girl. They were apologizing profusely to family, friends and acquaintances for being remiss concerning blaring the adoption. Apparently, they waited two years before making formal announcements.
Nonetheless, it is better to be late than never as in my case. At no time at all did Mickey or Minnie (the adoptive mother) find it ethical to let the world know about my adoption. Unbeknownst to me, it was a family secret from the beginning. Mickey would brag among a certain select group of people, but he was also content to let Minnie introduce me to the world as “his niece”.
I never objected because it was true, but privately I felt a sense of shame and embarrassment. I wondered why they were so evasive. Even as a kid I had the good sense to question their motives, “What were they hiding” or “What game were they playing?”
For the past 20 years, I have been questioning why Mickey requested me to return from Florida. I now know it was not to rebuild the parent-child relationship. This has been an emotionally, excruciating period for me. I feel it was unnecessary because I was content living my isolated life.
I had grown accustomed to being the outcast and was dealing with life and family members accordingly. Bringing me back was about control and taking away my power so I would be forced to understand they always had the final say.
It is an inconvenient truth when you find out your life was a charade in the middle of trying to get on in the world and “other arrangements” were made concerning your future. Over the years, I was told if I just played along, and was a bit more docile the relationship between Minnie, Mickey and I would have been better.
Honestly, I don’t think so. I will always be my birth father’s daughter and they view him as the spawn of the man who ruined their sister’s life. In any universe this was not a win-win situation for me at all. One thing I know for sure is that even though my birth father moved on with his life making a lifetime commitment to someone else and created another family, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt he is my dad. This is the one constant that gives me comfort.
He was always up front with me and never pretended things were one way when they were not. Once he found out his family had ambivalence towards me, he changed the dialogue quickly hinting to me about certain truths.
As I stand in my very disconcerting scenario, I feel comforted knowing I am not a patch work quilt that has no idea who my father is. All the exclusion and dismissive behavior going on would have made me feel ten times worse than I do now if I had no father figure to identify with.
Once I get over this hurdle, the next stage of my life should be flourishing without wondering who wants me in their life or who is wishy-washy about my existence. In retrospect, I was just a little girl with big hopes and dreams. In the final analysis, all l got at the end of the day was a whole heap of heaviness and sadness.
Fighting For My Life Memoir 