The Widow’s Debutante Ball

I made it through yesterday, through the last year. If on this day last year, you asked me if I be around in a year, I couldn’t have been sure.

Like so  many milestones, I don’t feel a bit different after its passing. Now I don’t feel the all encompassing, debilitating, agony of fresh grieving, I still grieve, and it still hurts. I can go to the store, club meetings, doctors appointments, without feeling like everybody is looking at me, feeling sorry for me, watching to see if I’ll lose it. I’m no longer the woman whose husband just died, I’m just a widow.

I still don’t know what being just a widow means. Since a year has passed, I know I’m supposed to rejoin society, whatever that means  I almost feel like I should have some kind of weird widow’s debutante ball.

At this ball people could gather and wait for the widows to enter. We’d all be veiled and covered in black, once entered we would remove our black garments to reveal colorful and stylish clothing beneath. We would be welcomed back with dances, gifts and good wishes. Everyone of us widows would be gracious and smile. But the smiles wouldn’t be because we were truly happy or ready to rejoin the world. We would smile because we all would have learned to take anything offered. We would know how little we have and to never turn down any act of kindness, they are few and far between. We would smile because, for one night, we would be distracted from the loneliness that is, and probably always will be, our constant companion. After the party we would go home and everything would be the same.

OK, the above is too bleak, too negative, too dark. I have moved on. I’m not alone. I do really smile and laugh. I’m blessed and loved. Loved more than I could ever imagine, and I can return that love.

But part of me will always be at that ball.



I’m Fine. Considering….

I’m Fine, I really am…..considering.

I’m very close to the one year mark of the big bad. Sometimes it’s hard to believe so much time has passed, sometimes it seems like it was much longer ago that I lost David. In this last year I haven’t moved through time in the same way I did before. Some things have moved incredibly fast, others seem not to move at all. I think part of me will always be stuck in the horrifying time when I lost him.

But I’m fine. Considering. Life has gone on, the world has keep turning, and even if I haven’t been completely involved in that forward march at all times, I’ve kept my sense of the movement. As I move into the next year, one thing I fear is people will think I’m over it. I’m not, and I’m not going to be. The passage of time doesn’t change what happened. I’m changed. I may be moving forward, but I haven’t forgotten. It will always be a part of who I am.

Some folks understand I’ll not be the same. They’ve let me know they are still here for me and I can’t tell you how much that means to me. They are my true friends. They know, no matter how fine I seem, I’m still carrying this thing.

It’s been a bittersweet year, good things, wonderful things, have come my way along with the bad. They stand out starkly and beautifully, and they always will. I’ve been given gifts that opened the world back up to me, made me know living is worthwhile, let me know that my ability to love didn’t die.

I have no idea what I want to say here. Just that I’m fine. At least for now.


Second Chances

I wouldn’t say the theme of this blog is dissatisfaction, but I have to admit it does come into play in many of my posts. It’s occurred to me that this is a bit selfish. Adoption isn’t just about me. There are more people involved, adoptive parents just don’t get enough chances with dissatisfaction here. I apologize, and it’s time for me to change my ways.

I’ve done a lot of writing about the act of adoption itself concerning adoptive parents, but paid less attention to their feelings after the fact. I should take their feelings into consideration. I realize that raising adoptees is no day in the park. Adoptive parents are entitled to their own frustrations, and yes, dissatisfaction. With that acknowledged, I do feel that I need to press on in the spirit of answers and resolution, as is only fair.

A website was brought to my attention that may offer hope to both adoptees and their adoptive parents in finding the satisfaction that we both deserve. It offer a novel approach, one that some may say is radical, the solution it offers may disturb some, but I think it could be viable in some cases. Please explore it with an open mind.

I wish solutions like this had been available when I was a child. The world was a smaller place then and the social climate wasn’t ready for such bold solutions. I have no doubt that if this ere an option it’s something that my own adoptive parents would be willing to explore. Everyone deserves a second chance, even adoptive parents.

I think you’ll find the site both informative and easy to use. I can’t imagine this won’t be the next big thing.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Hold up on the wake, folks.

When you die your your identity ceases to exist, in more than the obvious ways.   The fact of your death becomes a matter of public notice.  Your social security number is no longer a not really so closely held secret to be hidden from all but those who would extend you credit.  Your name no longer belongs to anyone, it’s published in the newspaper, no matter if anyone cares enough about you to have a service, or even pay to have an obituary written.  In short, you are immediately outed as a non-person.

No matter if your remains end up in a great marble tomb in one of the better cemeteries, or in an unmarked hole surrounded by the bones of hobos, your name ends up on a list that anyone can see.  There really is no way to hide this.  It’s all very democratic.

If you don’t make the list, you are not dead.

I’m not on the list.  Neither is my mother.

It’s a great day to be alive.

Get Yourself Over There!

Joy’s back up!  That great news.

And a bunch of us have some other good news too.

I think Joy said it best…


So there for those of you who know there was a little rumble in our happy on line adopto-land. Those things happen whatevah, No love lost.

But something DID happen. We have our own forum now.

How cool is that?

I told you I was hooked up with the most Kick Ass Collection of Adoptees on the World Wide Web.

I am, we are, IT IS

Advocating for Change

Come and say hi, come and join.

You don’t have to be adopted at all, we will adopt you once you join, we will send you to a new and better life of our choosing.

Okay we won’t really do that, BUT we are a work in progress, and our mission is to be adoptee-centric, we are planning on adding more areas but since we are just getting our feet wet staying starting with just the adoptees.

So get your ass over there!

I’ve Got Some Catching Up To Do

But first I want to thank Joy and Michelle.   Both are unique and wonderful.

Joy, thank you for just being you.  The way you express yourself and are so open to the things that you are feeling has shown me how to get to those things in myself.  That is a gift, and your generosity with that gift has helped me and so many others, that there is no way to thank you enough.  Thank you for taking me along on our adventure to The Adoption Show, it came at a time that I needed something fun, different, and worthwhile.  It was all of those things.  It meant a lot to me.

But most of all, thank you Joy, for being my friend.  Thank you for sharing experiences with me, similar and dis-similar.  Thank you for helping me balance this tightrope between comedy and tragedy that we walk.  Thank you for gently putting me back in place when I need it.  Again, just thank you for being you.

Michelle, thank you for all the hours of hard work you put into your show.  Thank you for giving those that might not find an outlet for their stories anywhere else, a place to reach others.   Thank you for putting up with all the bullshit that comes with telling truths that are hard for some to hear.  Thank you for thinking that Joy and I have something to add to these stories, it is a honor to be included.

Thank you Michelle, for making it fun and easy.   Thank you for being the funny, warm woman that you are.  Thank you for telling me your story and your genuine interest in everybody else’s story.  Thank you for being someone I am so happy to consider an ally and friend.

Thanks to everybody else who had good things to say about the show.  Thank you Kim, Amy, Margie, for mentioning us on your blogs.  Thank you to all the readers and commenters.  You all make my day, everyday.

Now about this Thinking Blog Award.  

Joy Statuesque, thank you again, and thank you.  It does mean a lot to me to be recognized by fellow bloggers that I love to read, and I consider both of you light years beyond me.  I was going to do something silly and a bit snarky with this, but you caught me in one of my rare mellow moods.

Since everybody that I love already seems to have had this honor, I’m going to do something different.  I’m going to ask my readers to surf around and read five blogs that they haven’t read before.  There’s a lot of good stuff out there, and new bloggers coming online all the time, especially in the area of adoption.   If you see something you like, link them up, tell somebody else about them, leave a nice comment.  Make somebody’s day.

Alright, that was the last nicey-nice post you are going to get for a while.  There are a lot of things pissing me off.  I’ll be back.

Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You

I have a whole lot of adoptive parents hoping that their prescious little ones don’t turn out like me.  You know, I don’t think there’s too much chance in that happening.

Attitudes like mine don’t come overnight, it took me darn near 40 years to come up with this one.   It took time, nuturing, and determination.  As easily as things are going to come to these APs kids, I just don’t think they’ll have time.

As we know these kids will sail through life, how could they not?  Their loving adoptive parents have only the best intentions, we know those are always rewarded.  When you are a straight A student, captain of the soccer team, and giving recitals at Carnagie Hall, there just isn’t time to become dis-satisfied with your situation, or wonder what could have been.   Besides those things could dissappoint adoptive parents and nobody wants to dissappoint the greatest parents in the world.

We know these kids can’t stay by their adoptive parents sides forever, but I doubt they’ll have much trouble when they hit that ivy league university, they just won’t have time to use the college years for self-discovery.  Dual degrees in law and medicine,  even if are a genius, take a lot of time.   They will be busy preparing themselves as a fertility expert and adoption lawyer.  That’s a lot on a young person’s plate.

Then, of course they’ll met that special someone, most likely a corporate CEO who donates his whole salary to UNICEF, or possibly a heir to a royal house of Europe.  What with the wedding at St. Patrick’s chathedtral and the reception for 1000 at Tavern On The Green, they be caught in a whirlwind.

Producing an heir also has it’s stresses.  There won’t be much time to think when the perfect grandchildren start to arrive.  Besides they will be so proud to present you with these children.  How better for the perfect adoptee to show appeciation for their parents?  Then of course they will start the cycle all over again, the soccer team, the concerts at Carnagie Hall, the dual degrees.  A happy go lucky dynsaty that has never taken a moment for self examination, wonder, or one moment that was not perfectly happy, satisfied, and without fear.

Well, that is as likely to happen, as the precious adoptee should turn out like me.

I’m pretty unique, I’m pretty smart, and darn it, people like me.

I’m also pretty happy most of the time.

I wonder if some of those adoptive parents might want to reconsider.