A year has passed since I found out my birth mother died in 2003. I never got to meet her and talk to her and over this last year I have had mixed feelings about that.
Part of me was relieved that I didn’t have to bathe in the tub of emotions that that meeting would’ve stirred up, and part of me is saddened that I didn’t get to hear from her what she was thinking and feeling all these years.
Recently, I was watching the Dr. Phil show and there was a woman on the show who lost her parents at an early age and she was dealing with so much years and years later. Dr. Phil suggested she write a letter to that parent and share her feelings both good and bad as a way to deal with the emotional powder keg that was contained behind her rib cage.
I sat there and wondered it that would help me. I wondered if writing a letter to my biological mother would help sort out some things for me. Below is that letter.
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Dear Helen,
I call you Helen because calling you mom just doesn’t feel right.
On October 24, 2009, I found out from an adoption angel via a text message that you had died in 2003. Sitting on the cold metal bleachers at our local high school watching a football game I found out you died in May of 2003.
I searched my heart to find the right emotion to feel and couldn’t find it. To that point, you were a stranger to me and I wasn’t sure how I should mourn the death of a stranger. I really didn’t feel sad. I was more disappointed than anything.
Over the last year, I have had some time to sort things out, but the right emotion still doesn’t register. When I think of my wife or my boys, I immediately get powerful emotions that fill my heart. When I think of you, it just goes blank.
Part of the reason I think I was so hesitant for many years to look for you was because I feared being rejected by you…again. I think even in death I still feel that. I feel rejected because you never spoke about me to ANYONE. When I ask your daughter/my biological sister, or your best friend what you said about me, they both say the same thing. You never talked about me.
It is my understanding, your death was not a sudden death. I can’t help but wonder why in those last months, weeks, and days, you didn’t speak of me. How come you didn’t leave a message for me or tuck away in a private place something that you wanted me and only me to have. How come you didn’t take 30 seconds to tell someone that I mattered?
There are days when I think the separation from me was just too painful to talk about and I try to spin it in a positive light. Then there are days when I think, that you just didn’t care. As a father, I can’t understand that. I can’t conceptualize how that is possible; how you can have a child roaming the earth somewhere and not care or think about them. I have no evidence that you did and more evidence that you didn’t.
In this past year, I have struggled with telling myself over and over that I matter; that I am important; that I am worthy. I artificially construct and build up my self esteem that could have been raised to an all-time high if you would’ve taken 30 seconds to whisper to someone your regret. Instead, I am left to do as have always done from as far back as I can remember; fantasize.
My imagination fills in the holes created by you that you were meant to fill. My creative mind tells me you suffered in silence and thought about me on my birthday, and on Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, Memorial Day, The 4th of July, and again on my birthday in August. Reality tells me I have nothing to support this fantasy.
Like a child on Christmas looking for that one special gift that isn’t there, I still wait and hope in some chest, some book, in your personal belongings somewhere, someone will find a letter written to me that kills reality and awakens fantasy.
These are the feelings, that surround me today and guilt drips from my fingers as I type these words. As an adoptee, I have learned really well to protect others around me often at the expense of my own feelings and thoughts. So I wrestle with guilt and push it into the nearest closet so I can express what I need to to protect me. I needed only 30 seconds and I have a right to those 30 seconds.
Kevin
Maybe she just could not face the reality of giving you up. The guilt you speak of, probably that is what she was feeling too. I am sorry you didn’t get your 30 seconds.
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Kevin, your letter touched my heart. Perhaps the answer to your prayer can only be found in the reflection of your own children’s eyes. Know that your life has great purpose and that you are reaching hundreds of people with insight, example, and education, and let that bring you some peace as others struggle and reach out. The foster care and adoption processes can be heartbreaking and challenging for the parents making loving homes for kids who do not have shelter, nurturing, and safety, as well as for the children. God bless.
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Kevin, I hope writing this letter to her helps you heal fast. You have every right to be mad at her, and not to feel guilty about that. I read the letter and felt a seething tone right there. When I re-read it I could not see any anger in your words. But I could still feel it between the lines. When my daughter was four I overheard her tell a friend “It’s OK to feel mad. It’s just not OK to act mad.” Sending hugs and prayers.
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You did deserve at least 30 seconds and I’m sorry that you didn’t get them. Try not to beat yourself up with guilt for feeling the way you do. You have every right to feel how ever you feel about this. Just try to remember how much your wife, kids and family and friends love you. Think about all of us here in cyber land and how much you are helping us raise the next generation of transracial adoptees. You matter to all of us and our children. (((hugs)))
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Kevin, I’m so sorry for the pain and rejection you feel. Thank you for being transparent with us about these feelings. I personally don’t think there is a “right emotion” for you to feel–other than your true feelings.
If it makes any difference, you do matter and you are important, even to those of us who just read your writing. As an adoptive mother who has good relationships with the birthmothers of all three of the children we’ve adopted, I can testify to the great pain they experience as a result of making an adoption plan for their children. I get notes asking me to hug and kiss their children for them, notes saying not a day goes by without them thinking of their child, and notes about how much they miss them. While I obviously never knew your birthmother, it seems reasonable from my experience to imagine that she loved you in her own way and did the best she knew to do in her situation and time period.
You are welcome to those 30 seconds to write that letter and more indeed, and I wish it didn’t bring you guilt to take those 30 seconds, although I can sort of understand why it did. Did writing the letter help a little bit? It seems a good idea to me. . .
I truly wish I could play the role of your birthmother and tell you I am sorry and I love you so much and that I thought of you every single day, and that I truly thought I was doing the best thing for you. And I’m sorry I never wrote you a letter or anything–I didn’t know what to say, I had no idea where to start. . .and I was afraid of rejection, too.
Because that response is a believable possibility.
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Your letter filled me with sadness….. our journeys through life are long and hard but the one thing we have to cherish is that we have life.
That life is ours to do what we wish with and sometimes others pain is so painful for them that we are affected by it……. that is the valuable lessen that my birth mother tought me!!!!
Its up to us to preserve ourselves in whichever way we choose, some choose anger which is self destructive, some chose hate which leads to our own hell and some chose to forgive which allows us to move on and continue our journey in peace…..
Those two things my mother gave me, number one being she gave me LIFE and number Two THE UNDERSTANDING OF THE EFFECTS OF OTHERS PAIN make my journey that she started a wiser one and I thank her from the bottom of my heart for those two things she gave me…….
To me those gifts are worth far more than all those xmas presents and birthday cards and hugs I never got!!!!!
The one thing I do know is there is nothing like a biological mothers love and I have no doubt that she loved you like no one else ever could, the one things that humans can’t do is defy science and a mothers love is a science…………
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Kevin,
I hope this letter brings you some measure of peace. You are so important to your wife, your children and to all who read your work and then to those lives that are touched by the people who read your work.
I believe your mother was in deep pain. Perhaps I have no right to even wonder or make up scenarios but I have that belief. Not because I think all mothers are special or whatever, but if it were not so painful she would have spoken about you to someone.
You deserved so much more than what you got. I’m deeply sorry for that.
May your brave honesty and the love you are putting out into the world bring you peace.
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Kevin,
I am in awe and speechless after reading your letter to Helen. My heart just aches for you. I could feel your pain in your words. And it’s incomprehensible to me that she didn’t reach out to you, in some form, in some way, at some point, in her life. It makes me think of what Rachel’s birthmom told me once, that she had to grow a formidable wall inside herself against the grief, or else it would consume her. And she always had to be careful to keep that wall up, because if she let it down, she would break apart and couldn’t cope with the pain. This wall has enabled her to live each day without her daughter. Otherwise, she might not make it. After she told me that, I have a better grasp on the emptiness and silence. Maybe at some point it would be interesting to write the letter she never wrote, to give yourself what she couldn’t. I send you a cyber hug, my friend. I am saluting you in my heart, for yours is a long, hard road and you’ve walked it all with strength, wisdom and grace. And I truly, truly believe that anyone who could give birth to you must be very, very special. Because you are such a man of impeccable character. I truly believe that Helen must be up in heaven, finally free of heartbreak, and so very proud of her son.
Love,
Judy
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Kevin, this is beautiful. I think I need to do the same – but to my birth-father.
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Thanks for all the wonderful heartfelt responses and I appreciate ever word. Please don’t let what I have to say next take away from my sincere thanks for those words.
As parents, it is our instinct to jump up and try to soothe our children’s wounds. When our kids hurt we often want to make them feel better immediately. I saw many do that for me in the comments which was great but as parents sometimes we need to resist the urge to add to the fantasy. Sometimes, the most appropriate yet painful response(for us as parents) is, “wow, that sucks!”
Part of my fear about posting this blog was that members of my biological family would see this and then fabricate something to make me feel better. As a parent I would consider this as well but as a child writing the letter I just wanted to be heard and express what I was feeling.
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I get it, and sorry if I tried to comfort you. And I agree it sucks.
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Hi Kevin,
I just wanted to let you know about another adult adoptee who is struggling with similar feelings, in case you weren’t aware of her and it would be helpful: http://marginalperspectives.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-like-i-never-existed.html
I think you’re courageous to write this letter and to feel all the feelings it must bring up. I can only imagine how painful and sucky this must be.
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Your letter makes me so glad that our daughter has an open adoption. She will be able, I hope, to have her heart-questions answered from the source. Her birth father is another matter. What do you think about your birth father, if you don’t mind my asking?
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Your letter is poignant and so beautifully heartfelt. I am sorry that you never got a chance to meet your nmom, and that she told no one about you. The steel edge of rejection is painful and cuts deep. Adoptees do deserve at least 30 seconds of validation and respect. We are human beings with feelings, not objects of shame.
I am an adoptee, twice rejected. None of the continued lies and secrecy makes sense to me. No matter how hard I try to turn things over in my mind, I cannot comprehend how some of our nfamilies can treat us as less than worthy of the love and support that every child deserves.
I know words don’t change anything, but I want you to know that I stand with you.
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Kevin-
This might be a tough question, but I will ask it.
Knowing that my daughter won’t get a response, how old do you think a kid should be before writing a similar letter? Obviously age and maturity are different between kids, but what are your thoughts?
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Bob,
I think I would first have the conversation about birth mother and/or father and then see how that goes (if you haven’t already). Then I would keep the tool of the letter writing in the back of my mind and if that conversation goes well I would suggest writing the letter. If she agrees, great! If not she may not be ready.
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Thanks for sharing this, Kevin. That took guts 🙂
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Wow. I am amazed at your generosity in sharing something so personal with us. Thank you.
My son was born in Ethiopia and his birth mother is HIV positive. I want to take him back someday to meet her and I worry that she will die before he is old enough to remember such a meeting. I still don’t know what to do, but your letter confirmed for me the importance of such a meeting and helps my resolve to do something that will be difficult both emotionally and financially.
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My own birthmother died before I could meet her though she
was quite young at the time (I was still at school) and like you,
she never told a single soul (as far as I know anyway). Her death
was sudden but there are so many answered questions left
unanswered. This bit in particular did resonate with me: “My
imagination fills in the holes created by you that you were meant
to fill. My creative mind tells me you suffered in silence and
thought about me on my birthday, and on Labor Day, Thanksgiving,
Christmas, New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, Memorial Day, The 4th
of July, and again on my birthday in August. Reality tells me I
have nothing to support this fantasy.” I can imagine things to my
hearts content but it is just not the same as actually knowing.
Biological relatives do seem to think my bmother seemed very sad
but that is only speculation and may have had nothing to do with me
at all. One day like you I hope to find something somewhere that
showed I existed somewhere in her life but I don’t hold out hope.
Having said all this, the more I find out about her, the more I
care about her and it makes the secrecy so much harder.
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As an adoptee myself and an adoption worker I appreciate you sharing this letter. It brought tears to my eyes. I wrote my own letter once as an exercise. I have actually met my birth mother and have what one would call a successful reunion, yet when I wrote my letter the anger inside emerged and surprised even me. What I take from this is that even a reunion does not fill all of the holes deep inside. I can relate very well to the last part of your letter about protecting others at the expense of self as I assume many other adoptess can as well. Thank you for your honesty as so many of us can relate, but just do not always have the words.
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