Doreen, so very sorry that your fear has been so deep all these years. I feel this personally and deeply, as my father died when he was 25, I was an infant, My mother remarried and my birth father became like a ghost lingering in the corner. I knew about him, but I knew so very little. it just wasn't talked about. I can't imagine having the shock of finding out the way you did ! that missing piece of my life was larger than I realized, and the time came for me to go back and find all the pieces. I could't do that until my stepfather and my mother were gone. I ended up writing memoir about reconnecting with my father decades after we lost each other, and it was beautiful and healing. Loss comes in many forms, but it always carries pain with it. My husband and I adopted two girls, and I believe my own experiences have helped me to understand some of their struggles. I hope so. And I also hope that you will continue to heal and to find peace. Sharing your story is an act of real courage.
Thank you for sharing Janice! I just got the goosebumps reading your post! We have very similar stories. I went looking for the missing pieces too, at 43 years old and I have a memoir in progress about it. I would love to read yours!
I felt you and your fear and anxiety. What a wild journey it has been. I love that despite all your difficult feelings around October, that you LOVE Halloween! I think it's a testament to your strength to overcome life's difficulties. Thank you for sharing your heart.
Doreen, although our stories are different, I feel you're anxiety and anguish. I was abandoned at birth, and my birth and I dont know how many different people held me before I went to my foster parents. The Air Force couple adopted me at one year, so transience and a sense of uncertainty are still part of me at 73.
I sense your dread here: "The shock was overwhelming. It felt like a trap door had opened beneath me, just like in my nightmares, and I was free-falling into that same black emptiness." I wonder if was a similar feeling to mine, in my piece "Depth and Distance". Maybe its trauma: a similar unrootedness, drift. Thank you for your heartfelt work.
I went back and re-read that piece and your description of "the terror of falling into an unfathomable depth and distance" and that describes those dreams I had. Those started before I found out about the accident or adoption BUT my mother told me on the night she found out about the accident (I was 1), she came to my crib and gathered me in her arms crying. So, somewhere that memory/trauma must have been imprinted on my brain, as you said a similar uprootedness.
Doreen, I love this brave writing. I've read about your birth father before, in a previous piece you posted, and the story stays with me. I can hardly wait to read your memoir.
Started to respond but feeling inept. Just want you to know I read this and hear you. I’m grateful that you share your talent and your experiences.
Thank you for reading JV, it feels validating to be heard in this way.
Doreen, so very sorry that your fear has been so deep all these years. I feel this personally and deeply, as my father died when he was 25, I was an infant, My mother remarried and my birth father became like a ghost lingering in the corner. I knew about him, but I knew so very little. it just wasn't talked about. I can't imagine having the shock of finding out the way you did ! that missing piece of my life was larger than I realized, and the time came for me to go back and find all the pieces. I could't do that until my stepfather and my mother were gone. I ended up writing memoir about reconnecting with my father decades after we lost each other, and it was beautiful and healing. Loss comes in many forms, but it always carries pain with it. My husband and I adopted two girls, and I believe my own experiences have helped me to understand some of their struggles. I hope so. And I also hope that you will continue to heal and to find peace. Sharing your story is an act of real courage.
Thank you for sharing Janice! I just got the goosebumps reading your post! We have very similar stories. I went looking for the missing pieces too, at 43 years old and I have a memoir in progress about it. I would love to read yours!
I felt you and your fear and anxiety. What a wild journey it has been. I love that despite all your difficult feelings around October, that you LOVE Halloween! I think it's a testament to your strength to overcome life's difficulties. Thank you for sharing your heart.
Thank you Tanya. It certainly has been one wild ride and I'm weary.
You're welcome. It makes total sense to me that you would feel weary. Today I honor you and your journey. Sending a BIG hug.
I feel it. xo
Doreen, although our stories are different, I feel you're anxiety and anguish. I was abandoned at birth, and my birth and I dont know how many different people held me before I went to my foster parents. The Air Force couple adopted me at one year, so transience and a sense of uncertainty are still part of me at 73.
I sense your dread here: "The shock was overwhelming. It felt like a trap door had opened beneath me, just like in my nightmares, and I was free-falling into that same black emptiness." I wonder if was a similar feeling to mine, in my piece "Depth and Distance". Maybe its trauma: a similar unrootedness, drift. Thank you for your heartfelt work.
I went back and re-read that piece and your description of "the terror of falling into an unfathomable depth and distance" and that describes those dreams I had. Those started before I found out about the accident or adoption BUT my mother told me on the night she found out about the accident (I was 1), she came to my crib and gathered me in her arms crying. So, somewhere that memory/trauma must have been imprinted on my brain, as you said a similar uprootedness.
Aww thank you for sharing that memory❣️
Doreen, I love this brave writing. I've read about your birth father before, in a previous piece you posted, and the story stays with me. I can hardly wait to read your memoir.
Thank you so much for your affirming words. It encourages me to continue writing!
Yes. You must keep going! ❤