Rights of Passage

This blog entry has been a long time coming. You see, I didn’t want to write anything else on this blog until I was able to share this entry with you — I’ve been struggling for months with this… And, my stubbornness has resulted in a sort of writer’s block, or blogging crisis, as it were. But, I’m determined to share it now. I’ve written several versions in my head, and none seemed to strike the chord I wanted. I hope this one does.

As many of you know, in September 2007, I contacted my birth family (specifically my cousin Dennis) through Facebook, and met my biological cousin Hollie just a little over a month later — Hollie had been living a five minute drive from me for years. (read the original blog post here) Since that time, I’ve had the absolute pleasure to meet many of my other first cousins and two uncles on my birth mother’s side. They are all truly amazing, warm, thoughtful people that have enriched my life in ways I can’t possibly put into words.

Unlike many of my adopted family, who treated my brother and I who were adopted from separate families, like outcasts, these people have made me feel like I belonged, before they even really knew me. Over the past couple of years of getting to know them, I’ve discovered just how much I missed out on, growing up without them around me. Don’t get me wrong… I wouldn’t trade anything for the relationship I have with my brother now (which I certainly wouldn’t have had, had we not both been placed up for adoption), but as each elder biological family member passes that I didn’t get to meet, my heart aches more for those memories I never had.

Rather than holding on to resentment, though, I’m trying my best to hold on to the positive. I can’t change how my past was written, but I can hold on to what I have now. I am surrounded by all these remarkable family members that I love dearly. And, looking forward, I have an opportunity to make some great, lasting memories with them.

Many of you have asked about my birth parents… And the basic answer is still the same: Yes, they are still married, and no, they don’t want contact with me. I respect their wishes, as hard as it is to do so. They do know that I’ve contacted the rest of my birth mother’s side of the family. No one knew about me, until I knocked on the perverbial door, so I’m sure I haven’t helped with their already strained relationships with some of the family members. My heart breaks when I think about it. I’d love to know them… Maybe one day I’ll write a letter and see if I can inspire them to write back. At the moment, though, I have too much going on in my life to deal with that certain rejection.

This summer, I had the opportunity to meet many of my other extended family members at a family get-together in Gimli, Manitoba. And, as I suspected, they were just as amazing as my uncles and first cousins. Surprisingly though, I didn’t anticipate just how many of them shared a family resemblance to me — I’d seen some small photos on Facebook and such, but wow, nothing prepared me for the manerisms and similarities that I experienced. By the time the weekend was over, I’d met over 50 family members — many of them had just learned of my existence. All of them were so welcoming, and excited to meet me, and I couldn’t have hoped for a better experience. I know how lucky I am — many adoption reunions don’t go nearly as well as mine. Not a single person made me feel out of place. It just felt “right” to be there.

And, the rights of passage I referred to in the title? One of the first things my family pulled out during the first gathering is hardfish… or, harðfiskur. As they prepared the dried fish on a plate with butter cubes, Barry’s face turned almost purple from the smell (and he eats and enjoys practically any food). Thankfully, my sense of smell is limited at best from all my surgeries, so I could barely smell it. My great uncle placed the plate of the hard fish in front of me first and insisted I try it, as dozens of family members looked on (which, I was very weary of, since I’m not a big fan of fish for the most part), but you know what? I liked it! The chunk of butter you eat with the very dry, tough, white fish melted over it in my mouth, and the taste was something I’d never experienced before. Strangely, Barry could barely stomach it! That’s a first.

I can’t believe how incredibly fortunate I am to have found such an amazing group of biological relatives. The sense of belonging I felt this summer during the reunion was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It meant so much to me to learn even more about the Icelandic customs and traditions during my weekend away, and the foundation that I’ve started to build on, to understand my heritage is well underway.

I’m a very lucky woman, and I’m very proud to include all these amazing people as my family.