August Attitude Adjustment: Not Moving After All

Tags

adoptee, Homestead, Maintenance, Real Estate, Restoration, Reversal, roots

What a crazy summer! It seemed everyone around me was “downsizing.” I joined the movement. In June, I decided to sell my house and move somewhere smaller. By July, the offer I’d made on a nearby townhouse was accepted. I was in the process of packing to move. Meanwhile, even before the old place was officially on the market, I’d been getting a few tentative offers. Nibbles.

Home-Where the heart is

Along comes my son and his family for a visit. They see the new place and hear about the too-low offers made on the old home. After studying the numbers, my son pointed out that I would not come out ahead. Hard to believe at first, but when deferred maintenance was taken into consideration, the house would actually not be making money for me. Financially, I would just about break even. A two-day family discussion: Ultimately, we concluded, it would not be best for me to move. Rather, I’d invest in refurbishing the old home.
August finds me adopting an entirely new attitude. No longer will I mind the indoor and outdoor maintenance. I’ll take full advantage of the hoop gardens for growing vegetables and herbs; I’ll walk the labyrinth every day; I’ll harvest fruit from the apple and pear trees in the fall and turn the bounty into juice, pies, and cobblers. I’ll commune with the occasional deer coming to visit. I am realizing that I hadn’t really wanted to be uprooted.
The home makeover begins next week. That means that I’ll be moving out of one end of the house to the other. The section that needs paint and new flooring has to be vacated. This has led to massive de-cluttering and a donation-a-thon. Thankfully, the work begins outside, with re-stuccoing. So I have a tiny bit of leeway in clearing out of the renovation end. On the other hand, the-clock is ticking.

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The Pendulum Swings – Adoption comes Full Circle

Tags

adoptee, adoption, celebrity, celebrity adoption, diary, DNA, family, international adoption, orphans, parents, public, roots, struggles

Hollywood Adoption: Photo found on yahoo.com

When I was adopted at the end of WWII, it was top secret. A stigma, at least in my adoptive parents’ circle, was attached to not being able to give birth to your own children. Adoption was considered a last resort. It was invisible. In large measure because of celebrity adoptions, nowadays adoption has gone public. It is seen as a viable way of forming a family. In sharp contrast to the era during which I was adopted, people who adopt children are more likely to be admired than spurned.

Celebrity adoptions have helped transform attitudes toward adoption. Magazines and newspapers feature photographs of movie stars holding adopted children. Often these little ones were adopted internationally.  Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, for example, have several children of their own and three from other countries (Cambodia, Ethiopia and Vietnam). Madonna’s tots are from Malawi. Sandra Bullock and Charlize Theron are recent Hollywood adoptive moms.

There are 145 million orphans in the world today, boys and girls who will have to grow up without the love and guidance of parents. Any situation which allows even one of these children to gain a family is a victory, a triumph, a cause for celebration. Celebrity adoptions call attention to the option, when a couple or single parent cannot or chooses not to have children in a traditional way, of “the adoption solution.”

In The Goodbye Baby: Adoptee Diaries, I relate that my birth father Giovanni was born in Italy and tell how it cut off I felt from my Italian-American heritage. Years after being adopted, I traveled to San Martino Sulla Marricino, Italy with my birthfather. I saw the house where he was born. I met aunts, uncles and cousins who welcomed me—the American cousin—with open arms. I was filled with joy at meeting people who were “blood relatives,” people with the same DNA. I felt very much at home and at the time wanted to live in that little Italian village forever.

How much was I hurt by not being in touch with my roots all along?

Join Elaine on alternate Mondays for reflections on adoption and sneak previews of her newest novel, The Hand of Ganesa.

Until I became a teenager, the answer is not very much. When, at about age 15 or 16, I pondered  the question of “nature versus nurture,” I was troubled by the lack of knowledge about my heritage. I felt disenfranchised (though at the time I would not have called it that). Despitethe fact that my new adoptive parents were loving and gave me every advantage, I felt deprived.  I had been cheated of “the back story.” I strongly urge adoptive parents to provide that “back story”: how he or she came to be adopted and as much as possible about the child’s original parents. Obviously, all of this should be presented truthfully but positively. It requires great care and sensitivity on the part of the parents.

The Goodbye Baby: Adoptee Diaries gives readers a case history of adoption’s effects and dramatizes my journey of recovery.  Through actual diary entries from the 1950s through the 1980s, it proves how awareness can provide the path to a healthy shift in attitude. The diaries give personal history a living voice in a way that remembrance never can.

Clara and Dottie go to India

Tags

adoptees, birthparents, Fiction, India, Khumba Mela, roots, Searching

Returning to Fiction

Today, going from the nonfiction world (writing about adoption) to fiction (still writing about adoption), I’m presenting scenes from my longtime novel-in-progress, Clara and the Hand of Ganesha. For months, the book gathered metaphorical dust. A new year, a fresh start, or rather a re-start. The central themes of adoption and the search for authenticity are propelling the book forward. This is just a preview and may not be exactly what ends up in my novel.

Here’s a brief summary: The two central characters are both adult adoptees. Clara Jordan, part Native American, loves her adoptive parents, but feels driven to find out about her origins. Arundati Ragan, known to her friends as “Dottie,” lost her adoptive parents in the Mumbai massacre of 2008. She now longs to go to India to search for her birthparents. Like Clara, she is challenged by the mystery surrounding her origins. When the two adoptees’ paths cross, they become friends and decide to travel together to India.

Scene One:

Arundhati Benet was pushed open the library’s heavy doors. Dot Benet, as she was

Searching for clues

known to her friends, shouldered in a briefcase heavy with articles from magazines, books, handwritten notes. She also lugged a carrying case with a new MacBook Thin and charging device. She headed toward the nearest carrel. Dottie Benet was not her original name. Born Arundhati Rangan, she was one of two adult adoptees in the library that day..

Scene Two:

“May I help you find anything?” The reference librarian’s question pierced through Clara’s reverie.

The University of Virginia Library’s deep silence so engulfed her, she thought rather than voiced her first response. Well yes, my roots, my origins, where I’m from. I doubt that you could help me with that.

The middle-aged gray haired, bespeckled woman stood impatiently, hovering over Clara’s table, awaiting an answer.

Finally Clara answered, “I’m doing some genealogy research. Just browsing…actually, looking for ideas.”

“There are some websites I can direct you to.” When Clara didn’t answer, the librarian continued. “If you’ll tell me more about your search, maybe there are materials right here in the library that you could begin with.”

This woman looked trustworthy. Why not tell all? She was getting nowhere on her own, and the longer she waited, the less likely that she’d discover the truth.

Clara, who usually didn’t confide in anyone – much less total strangers – decided to open up.

Author’s Note: Stay tuned for monthly installments. If you’ve read ALL THE WRONG PLACES (available from Pocol Press or Amazon), you’ll notice that my protagonist is named “Clara,” just like the heroine of my last novel. Not an accident! This new work-in-progress is a sequel.

Join Elaine on alternate Mondays.

Portal to the Past

Tags

adoption, Audubon Center & Sanctuary, Back to the Past, Dealing with Adoption, Expanding horizons, Family trees, Randall Davey, roots, Self-realization

por·tal
ˈpôrdl/
noun
noun: portal; plural noun: portals

1.
    a doorway, gate, or other entrance, especially a large and elaborate one.
    synonyms:    doorway, gateway, entrance, exit, opening; More
    door, gate, entryway;
    formal egress
    “the portals to the palace were heavily guarded”
    2.
    Computing
    an Internet site providing access or links to other sites.

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My granddaughter agreed that Randall Davey’s home was really cool!

 As an adult adoptee, I agonized about not possessing an authentic family tree: biological roots, a list of same-DNA folks to whom I could trace my origins, blood relations. How to invent your own family tree? A forest of trees? A juniper that sends its roots so deep into the earth that it cannot be easily uprooted? Pretend that the whole family tracing mania is a waste of time and really doesn’t matter? No, no, and again no.
Of course ones origins matter. To pretend otherwise is unsustainable. No matter how far my adoptee recovery journey takes me, I’ll wake up every morning and still be adopted. However, the issue no longer causes that dark night of the soul that plagued me for so many years. Life is simply too short to agonize over the past. I’ve decided to transcend the question and open my mind to studying the pasts of others.
 Last weekend, I visited the estate of the early twentieth painter Randall Davey, one of the most colorful figures in the cultural history of Santa Fe, New Mexico. He was a prolific painter, son of a well-heeled east coast family who wanted their son to become a lawyer or an architect. Instead, Davey studied painting in New York and moved to Santa Fe to become a full time artist. He bought 135 acres of land at the end of Upper Canyon Road and converted an old mill to his home and studio.
He was a bon vivant, fast driver, musician, married to first Florence and then Isabel. Very much a local character. Davey died in an automobile accident, en route to see a girlfriend, near Baker, California on November 7 at the age of 77. His son William and Kate Cullum (sister of Isabel) bequeathed the property to the Audubon Society for their national headquarters. The Audubon Center & Sanctuary has preserved the home of Randall Davey and opens it to the public once a week. Last Friday I traveled to the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains and signed up to see the estate.
A guided tour through the artist’s home transports one to another era. It’s as though Mr. Davey would come back at any moment

The artist’s touch graces every room.

Furnishings, paintings on the walls, books, studio and paints – all seem to be frozen in time. The highlight of my August, the Randall Davey excursion was a reminder that adoption recovery allows an expanding  of ones horizons. Pondering the pasts of others, I’ve learned, can sometimes prove more worthwhile than pondering ones own!

Join Elaine every other Monday for reflections on adoption and life.

Laura and her Mission

Tags

adoptee, Adoptee Recovery, Birth Family, Donations, healing, Helping Recovery, Korea, Origins, Poetry, roots, Searching

In a few months, 25-year-old Korean-American adoptee Laura Wachs will be traveling to Korea in search of her birthparents. She longs to  learn firsthand about her cultural heritage. Beyond that, she is launching a campaign to help other Korean adoptees.

Korea, the homeland that Laura has never seen.

Laura was adopted when she was six months old. As a young girl growing up in Seattle, she was told only that her birthmother was unwed, very young and wanted to give her infant daughter the chance for a good life. “Basically, that (a good life) was the outcome,” says Laura. “However, there are many questions about my origins that I need to research.”
In addition to her own quest, Laura is making great strides toward helping other Korean adoptees. Though donations gained primarily through a Kickstarter fund, she will be using art and poetry, mediums that have helped her in healing from the wounds of adoption and in leading a more authentic life. Her plan is an ambitious one, involving a workshop for Korean adoptees, a show of their artistic creations and the publication of two books.
The project is titled ‘The Voices of Korean Adoption.’ It will showcase poets from around the world who were adopted from Korea. Laura has raised nearly half of the required $10,000 needed to obtain the grant that will allow her to complete the project. She has a deadline of April 28th to raise about $6,000.
Editor’s Note:  After talking with Laura, I donated to this incredibly worthy cause. Laura has succeeded in previous art and poetry nonprofit projects and is well qualified to bring her plan to fruition. As an adoptee who was able to meet my birthparents, I know the value of such reunions.
Please join me in supporting ‘The Voices of Korean Adoption’
Contact: Laura Wachs
206-819-6398
laura_wachs@hotmail.com

Laura feels hopeful that donations will make her project a reality!

Are We Famished for Family?

Tags

adoption, Adoption recovery, Family Ties, Relatves, roots

Grammie Elaine is thrilled at the new arrival

In a recent issue of Psychology Today, Stephen Betchen, Ph.D., contributed an article titled “Why Adoptees Need to Find Their Biological Parents.” He states that adult adoptees “just seem to have an internalized nomadic notion that we don’t belong anywhere in particular. Even when we do settle somewhere we often work our asses off to prove our worthiness — just in case anyone gets any ideas about putting us back up for adoption.”

He further points out that many adopted children feel that “they need to embark on a biological search even if they had a positive experience with their adopted parents.”

Betchen, himself an adoptee, hit the nail on the head for this particular “lost daughter.” I had a very positive experience with my adoptive parents, but it’s also true that the urge to have blood relatives, DNA-related family, has always gnawed away in the back of my mind. As an adoptee growing up in the fifties, I longed for blood relatives. There were cousins, aunts and uncles related to my adoptive parents and I saw them at every holiday, but somehow – despite the outward festivities – I never really felt that I belonged.

The niece who came to dinner

Betty Jean Lifton described the adoptee’s sense of distance aptly when she said that that for every adoptee, there is a ghost: the child that the adoptive parents might have had. For the five-year-old me, there was the shadow of the original parents at those early childhood family gatherings. The ghosts are ignored at great peril. This is what I have learned and have come to acknowledge.

That’s why, when a biologically-related niece recently entered my life, I was overjoyed. Kathy, who’d been sending me Christmas cards, came to my town for a couple days. Finally, we met in person. The daughter of my thrice-married birthfather’s second wife, she is warm, loving and generous. She and her husband took me out to dinner the first night of their visit. The second and last night, they came to my house for banana splits that we had fun assembling. It’s almost embarrassing to admit how thrilled I was to be “Aunt Elaine,” how happy I was to have found another root of my biological family tree.

It is important to cherish relatives who are connected to us by blood lines, who share our DNA and who have the same family roots. As an adoptee with two grown sons and three grandchildren who live too far away to see often, I have felt at times famished for family. My parents, all four of them, have passed away. But now, I have a niece, and she is a treasure.