A typical morning dropping off the kids. Ping! My phone goes off. Friend forwards me an article…
Pause. Do I want to read this right now? Will I just get pissy? It is a special day, my sister is coming for a visit. It’s a celebratory day. A day that has become only for us to share as the date pushes further behind me. A made up day to acknowledge I was born just like everyone else.
READ. I hope you do too. It is a good, truthful, raw read and I want to reach out this adoptee. I am not often compelled to do that. Sometimes, the media does it just right. My friend and I each got something different out of it. The feeling that one is without a home either in Korea or in America, the missing of the past, the inability to graft in the future.
“I look at how my father interacts with my half-siblings and it’s a relationship I will never understand. And to fully comprehend the fact that I will never have a relationship like they do is just devastating. I can’t do it anymore.”
I am reminded of my Umma and brother. They have a relationship. While I am not deluded into thinking they have an ordinary relationship, it is something I will never have with Umma. I am her fantasy child, lost and found again. She can’t come close to me and feel entitled to chastise, joke, tease or demand. I am getting better at pulling her in. I am hopeful she will follow my lead.