Fall Ramble

There are times where I allow my thoughts to speak among themselves.

Other times I type them out then hit the wonderful delete button.

Often I type them and allow the public into my mind knowing full well that some of my words bring them outside of their own comfort zone. That comfort zone is not mine to worry about.

I woke this morning in a funk. I knew full well that it was coming and also know why it has arrived.

Spending close to two months getting ready for our annual Halloween fest has allowed me to shove life aside. I needed the break and imagine that I will soon find another way to avoid the reality of my voices.

Fall is a happy time in our home. One of the few things that Shannon and I have in common is our love for the festivities that come with Halloween. Our new home has offered us much comfort even in the small space and damaged goods. I feel like this home and the land that is with it has offered me my original packaging.

My thoughts move on to my sister who shares DNA through her mom, my first mom, Dottye. My sisters birthday falls on Halloween which was no real surprise to me when I first contacted her. Somehow in my own way of thinking when I heard her date of birth I knew it was one of the signs, The brothers that I had been raised with who do not share DNA but rather a history of good and not so good memories, they both have holiday birth dates as well.

As we prepared for our party I would find myself wondering if Dottye liked parties, did she have parties, did she love Halloween or simply love the fact that she bore a child that she got to keep on that very date.

As the years of my limited knowledge pass by I imagine that I am less like Dottye in personality then I had once hoped or thought. I'm fine with that as I do know for fact that I carry some of her mannerisms. I also like to think that perhaps she is proud of who I am, maybe I carry some of the personality traits that she desired.

As we prepare for our annual parental visit I can't help but to think of soul relations. I can look at past relationships and current between other people and say that the soulful connection to my parents is really not there, not for myself.

And that thought moved over to daily life and friendships.

Have you ever met someone and known that you knew them before?

Have you ever felt a connection to a stranger for what seems like no reason at all.

I can often feel that people are attracted to me not in a physical way but a more personality or spiritual way and it baffles me each time that I feel it. I don't often connect to people on a deep level , in my life there have been a hand or two full of folks I have been able to feel the light from, and that doesn't always mean that the light is specifically for me but rather a light that they are able to offer to everyone.

Upon speaking to a friend a few weeks ago it was nice to feel a connection of understanding when I told her that there are times where perfect strangers can totally drain my energy. I need my alone time though I know it's not always safe to be within my own world, sometimes it is safer then the energy drain from others.

I don't long for a safe life, I find many days are rather mundane. I do however wish to find a path that offers me answers to so many questions while walking along with strangers and friends alike who carry that light for non specific people. I hope to be one day a person who can offer that light.

The day she quit

40.
Yes. I made it to the ripe ol' age of 40.
I won't go into too much detail as that is not what is currently on my mind however I can tell you that for the first time in memory I did not have a single negative or self hate feeling on my actual date of birth this year. All due to the love of my husband.
Nuff said on that for now.
What brings me by my blog after so much time away?
A brain full of words twisting and mixing, forming new words by blurring into each other.
You might recall that about 6 months ago I mailed letters to people who had signed Dottye's funeral sign in book. I looked for names with address in Ohio,  Nevada, Arizona as well as Massachusetts. It was a long shot.
I'm used to long shots.
The day OF my 40th birthday I came home from breakfast with my husband and sister to find a message on my machine.
Yes.
THE day of my birthday.
It was a man who had received one of my long ago sent letters. He explained that he was just now getting to me as he had taken the time to think about who the letter was intended to go to.
He is the son of a man who is now deceased, a man named Robert. That is who my letter was to go to.
I waited a few days before calling him back.
My husband had surprised me by flying my sister in for my birthday weekend, and then surprised me again with a surprise party! I was busy, emotionally worn out and frankly totally out of it for most of the weekend.
After my sister left on Monday I took the day to gather myself then called this man back the next day.
We spoke for over and hour.
His father.
His father often spoke of Dottye with much fondness.
His father.
His father grew up near Boston.
His father.
His father was 6 foot 2.

Once again my heart and my brain do battle.
So many things fall into line.
So many things that offer no concrete proof.
Once again I make the choice to send off for a DNA kit.
We should know within 7 weeks if this man whom I spoke to is my brother.
A brother who shares the same father.

It's hard to say what my reaction will be if once again it is not a match and simply another twist on my road.
I can tell you what my reaction will be if it is a match.
Chances are you will hear me from your own home no matter how far away if I get that call or email saying "you have a new match."

Wait with me for the 7 weeks.
Hope with me that it takes less then 7 weeks.
Share my journey and give me the strength to deal with the results.
Strength.
Ironic.
Hope

The kindness rule......

A few people that I know have received my book of poetry. One person I have know pretty much my entire life but we've become very close over the past 15 plus years.
She called and left a message on my machine.
She was very impressed, I believe she said among other things, blown away.
Her words were kind, I felt my face turn red as I listened to the message.
I called her back and reminded her that we had a kindness rule in this house. You must only be kind in small doses, keeps us all grounded. It's part joke, part truth, part my way of keeping that hard exterior.
She was only able to read a few poems at a time, I'm not totally sure why. Maybe part of it has to do with knowing my story so well? She did say that she picked a few to read and found herself reading them more then once. Then she had to stop herself.

The feedback so far has been interesting. I know that my personality would not be one that you might normally think these words and thoughts would come from. Then at the same time I think maybe it is.
While I share my information like a very open book, I do tend to back away from the emotional part of my own story. My hard exterior makes it easier to keep most people at arms length away, which is my often failed attempt at keeping them from my heart, keeping people from hurting me.
That being said there are a few who have found their way in, some sooner then others, and some lost their privileges at my heart. Hurt it a few times and I may smile, but I won't ever let you back in, though I may smile and lie so not to hurt your feelings.
I digress. I usually do.

My point is that this has been a rather interesting life so far. A person like myself, closed emotionally to so many, made the choice to have my deepest feelings published. It may be as close as I will ever get to having a child. The pain, the joy, the fears and the hopes. They are not for the flesh of a child, but rather for the book I produced and hope will in some way, touch people that I may never have the honor of meeting.

Poems

As many of you who are close friends or on my Facebook know, I had a book of poetry published.
The title is Shadows of a Dark-Alley Adoptee

I was asked today what the title meant.
A friend named JoAnne actually came up with the title. As soon as she suggested it I knew it was perfect.

Shadows : so often I feel like I am only a showdown of myself, a shadow of who people think I am, a shadow of who I wish to be.

Dark-Alley : to me, a dark alley is the same as that part of myself that I keep hidden. It's the secrets, the pains, the parts I try to stay away from. Walking down a dark alley is scary, sometimes dangerous, and this is the same way that I feel about part of my soul.

Adoptee : I do hope there is no explanation needed for that word.

When I told my husband " I'm going to try and publish a book of poems" he looked rather confused. It was then that I shared with him a few of my writings. I had never told anyone about my poems, though I had posted a few online.
I never thought of them as poems, but rather as thoughts that sometimes happen to have a rhythm of sorts.

Also, I do not recall what I wrote, which is often the case when speaking or writing from the soul. I had an editor so for myself, I only had to change what I was told was wrong spelling or grammar, and then re type them. This did not require me to read or absorb them.

Last night I decided that I should probably go ahead and read what I had written. I chose to read five poems that I had already share with other people.
My feelings were a bit mixed.
So rather then go with feelings, which I tend to not deal with very well, I thought about them in a more analytical way.
While my poems are based on being adopted, because in fact that is what my life is based on, the poems that I read we're dealing with pain and loss. A loneliness that comes with grief, a desire to be understood in a world wrapped with feelings that can make a person feel so alone.

My hope? Well this book of poems is actually about hope for others. I find it is often easier to hope for good for others, as I tend to judge others far less then I judge myself. That being said, my number one hope with this book is that I can touch people in a deeper way then my own personal story. That I might shed some light on a person who is dealing with the sadness of another. Or that the person reading my poems might share this horrible sadness, and feel a little less alone.

The chances of this book leading to anyone who knew Dottye or my birth father is so slim, I am aware of that. There is a tinge of hope for that as well though.

Lastly, wouldn't it be nice to be remembered for setting a goal and reaching it? That goal, not finding my birth family, not being a poet or author, actually that goal is to be a better person then some thought I could be. To be the caring person that we all have in us to be, to help just one person to know that while they might have a dark side, that does not mean that they are damaged. Nope, it just means that they see things in a different way.

Shadows of a Dark-Alley Adoptee

Yup, that's me.

You don't know me

Sometimes I wish I could escape the image of me.
No one knows me.
We only put out there what we allow to be seen.
We only know how we treat others.
I was a JAP at least that was when I was young.
I was defiant and ran.
I was a whore.
I am broken.
I have always been broken.
I'm loving, I care.
I hurt people just by being.
Please stop being nice to me!
You don't even know me!

Self

I wonder how long it takes to find myself.
What if I decide that I don't like me.
How often did others know that they were keeping me silent,
Killing me a tiny bit each day.
Will the me inside of me be happy that I finally looked for her,
Instead of looking for others?
Will she retreat to an even darker place,
Hide her face in shame and pain.
Will she forgive me?
I wonder if I will like me?

Sex , effing, or love?

I know where I stand on the three. I don't think that sex or effing has anything to do with love, though I think you should love the person that you do it with.
When I spoke to Allison Dubois the first time, we spoke for the most part about Dottye. I don't have my notes here in bed but I do recall something along the lines of Dottye looking for love, believing each man that to,d her "I love you".

There are days when I think I must be so much like her,or at least that I used to be so much like her. Lately I wonder though if maybe I am actually completely opposite from her.

Either way I don't think there is a thing that I could find out about her that would make me turn my back on her or speak unkindly of her. She struggled , that's a definite given. I believe we had a lot of the same sort of things happen in our lives. While she was looking for love, I was just looking to be rescued.
Love and rescue.
They kind of are the same really.

I will always keep my heart open for her. She is a part of my soul, and I will always feel the need to defend her. I think maybe because it feels like no one defended her enough while she was here.

My book sits in a box, I've yet to read it. I still feel like its not time. However, it does feel like it might be close to the time to write her story, as I see it.
I think it's time to make sure that people will Remember Dottye.
Don't you?

To have and to hold

Im one of the people who over the years have played the head game " If you could only grab a few things from your home, what would you grab?"
Growing up there were two stuffed animals. I would wish that I could take them all.....but two for sure. It would be those two stuffed animals and my baby blanket. I would even practice grabbing them in case of a fire. Currently, those two stuffed animals are together with my blanket, in my bedroom. I left them home that I grew up with, and they came with me.
As an adult I've played this game as well. Now I am speaking of material items, pretending that the humans and pets are outside waiting for me. What would I grab if I only had minutes?
I would cry, I would leave those stuffed puppies behind and blanket, in order to be able to grab my adoption files. There are several.
Before find
After find
Arizona
Birth father
Vegas
Mentions in other books
As well as my search scrap book.
My jewelry would be nice as well, maybe I'll think about wearing all of the sentimental items all of the time so I never have to worry about grabbing them.
Or maybe I just won't orry about it at all.

As I sat outside tonight looking at the stars and watching two planes fly over I had a wish that I imagine will not come true.
It's a comforting thought and a sad one all at the same time.
I wish I could find that hidden treasure chest.
You know the one right?
It's the one that holds the letter, the journal, the single item of jewelry even if it's costume, and an article of clothing. All in a treasure chest, or safety deposit box that is suddenly found.
The note says it is for me:
For my last born daughter, the daughter I never held but loved so much.
Xoxoxox your mom Dottye


That would have been so cool.

The gruesome facts

I find that often I feel the need for all of the facts. I'm just that way in life.
Tell me that you stepped in dog shit and I want to know where, what type of surface, how big, how solid and what shoes were you wearing if any at all.
Growing up when asking questions pertaining to my adoption I learned to work around the looks. My parents didn't look like they liked all of the questions. I learned to ask few questions but ask them at the right times in the right way.
Today I was focusing in part on researching my DNA matches. When you find fourth cousins it is a pretty big task to figure out how you relate when you yourself do not have any surnames to reference. I had an idea that didn't pan out too well however I will try a new idea in that area tomorrow or the next.
When doing "research" every now and then I feel the need to get into the reasons for my search.

I usually only need one item to bring me that answer, and it is my adoption scrapbook. I do not have each and every piece of paper work in that book, but the ones that cause the most emotion, pre Dottye.

My first designed page includes a photo of myself on the phone, for the first time with my sister Karen. It was July in Texas, hot, and I was out back so I could smoke while we talked. With those photos is the Columbus dispatch news article on Dottye's crash and death.
To look at that page is to see the pure happiness and the deepest of despair all at the same time.

As a side not I am typing this on my iPad with my ear buds in. I turned the music on shuffle. What song just came on for the first full song? Simple Minds Don't You (forget about me.) I shit you not I had no idea that I even had this song.
Anyway as I was saying.
I read the article once again. Then, I went to Facebook.
When Dottye died she had first hit two other cars. One was with a teen and his teen sister. I know the young man had critical injuries but someone later told me that he did survive, but lost an ear. His sister had cuts and bruises.
There was another teen who she hit and he didn't have any injures.
I do believe I found him on Facebook and did send him a message. I have no idea if he will reply and if he does I have no idea what I will say.
The other person that I believe I found was the accident investigator. Again, I have no idea if he will reply or recall the incident.
My desire to reach her, to know her, all the details both good and bad have taken me to some odd and also fun places.
Looking back at my search since finding her there has not been a thing mentioned to me that I have regretted hearing.

I understand that some do not need or want to know details and I am cool with that. We all take things in different ways and for some it is better to just know the main points. I however need to know them all.

As I turn my ear buds off to hear my husband snooping, I know that there are no answers that can take me down. I'm too strong to be broken by anyone but myself. The answers that may come to me this year I am unsure of what they will be.
I have no doubt though that there is a list of us ready to hear them, and should I need to fall for just a moment, I know there will be lots of people to hold me up.