where do you lurk online? what do you think about, relate to enough, get reved up enough about that you leave a comment on a blog post? have you ever felt such a surge that you found your comment turning into its own blog post?
well my friends, im inviting you in.
i tend to leave personal comments to personal blog posts, which i guess is the point since the author has opened up, touched on the topic, so it fits. my personal ramblings can be found in the comments of blogs that include much better written blogs by BHJ and a Million Universes, for instance. as im sure many of you can relate, i consider some of these blogs and the actual humans behind them as my little online family. people i relate to that i only know online. people i have somehow found, in this world, that i seem to relate to. not in a creepy way, freaks. in a wow! cool! hey there (waves)! sorta way. in this particular instance i started to leave a comment on Pacing The Panic Room and his post entitled Grandpa. I encourage you to head over there and check out Ryan (<= link to previous post) and his awesome blog of photography. This post was timed for me. Im convinced. So as I wrote my short reply, it turned into a monster all about ME and not really at all to him, and so i decided just to cut and paste the whole thing here and avoid the embarrassment of hiding behind other peoples blogs.
here we go:
this post hit a soft spot. i am also in the god-awful process of trying to navigate which connections to make, hold on to or reestablish in my own Family. at this point i am actually more estranged than connected. being adopted and then having parents divorce in my effing 30s has way spun my mind.
in my early 20s i met my birthmother, 1/2 sister, a houseful of relatives who all look exactly like me, talked like me, were artistic and creative - like me! My grandfather came from across the country to meet me one summer. He said he loved me and was so happy to meet me. It was nice really nice. And then I came home. And then I was sad, and then really angry for never having the chance to have that love and support my whole life. people that looked like me. guilt and anger brewed from having to hide it from my adopted family since my effing father & his family would not accept that reunion. so i stopped communicating with the biological side. the guilt was too much for me, in this case. it still is. now i feel bad for NOT talking to them, but guilty towards my other family for wanting and perhaps needing to know the blood side. oh life! damn catch 22.
then there is the father thing. i have never met my birthfather. he does not know i exist. i have his name, thats it. product of a one night stand. classic or what? its naturally totally effing complicated as well. my adoptive father (who i call dad)and i have not spoken in 11 months. there. i said it. he lives 5 minutes down the road. he sent me a letter telling me he was getting remarried to his mistress of 3 years (who he left my mother for 10 days after our wedding) a birthday card in May to say Enjoy Your Day, and not a single phone call. i so have no time for that BS. so, i have to figure out if i want to find out where i come from. i know 1/2, and that hasnt turned out so shit hot, but i have answers, right? dont we all want to know where we come from and how we fit into the long chain of evolution? i surely do. maybe that comes from feeling so disconnected my entire life, to now being 37 and saying eff the wondering, lets find this shit out and deal with it. you know, slay some of those dragons.
so to stay or to go? it does come down to what some others mentioned in the comments - regret. but dont look at it like that. look at it from 20 years from now and what THAT ryan would feel with either choices. think of the discussions and examples you want to set for LB and the Tangerine - and especially Cole. But most of all for YOU. Do you want to let your life be guided with love - as hokey as that is - or with hate. You can choose. You can tell your kids that you met your grandfather and gave that a chance. You can be different than your parents.
Holy Shit. I think I need to find my father.