Over Before It Began

Previously I have blogged about the experience I have had with the search for my biological mother and where the status of that reunion lies. I say "reunion" in hope of it coming to fruition one day but the reality is that every passing day/week/year is another nail in the coffin of its reality. That blog was written 3.5 years ago on my birthday and can be read HERE

Before I expound on that, you must know that much of this is to be taken with a grain of salt and that I don't know how the actual narrative goes. There's a long story but there are rumors of me being a black market adoption, my father actually knowing of my mother's conception and that Michigan/USA was the foreign "dumping ground" of their illegitimate child for a morally questionable decision they might have made. Then, they would leave the US and return home.

Now, while my biological mother remains silent on her end of the Atlantic, it never sat well with me that Catholic Social Services (CSS) never attempted to search for my father. They said his name is the American equivalent of John Smith, there is no date of birth, no social security number and no military record. A "dead end" they said. This never sat well with me because based on the rough timeline we can establish from what my mother had said versus the fact that immigration records are kept, my feeling was that there must be something. Perhaps that was wishful thinking.

I opened the case back up with the court and was appointed a new confidential intermediary (someone who can review the records and is sworn to secrecy). After a really good conversation with a few folks, they said they would look into it and let me know. A few weeks ago I got the call and they confirmed what CSS  had said; there was not enough information to begin a search. He will remain lost to me, for now. That search was over before it began; the title of my blog tonight.

If I am honest, I hate this. I hate being juxtaposed by how much I absolutely love being a father to my son and how much of a coward my mother is for leaving a dial tone on her end for a decade. I am slowly beginning to accept the possibility that I am a product of either two immoral people or two good people that made a bad decision in the face of adversity. I get the sense that meeting me one day is less about explaining to her partner and family that I exist and more about the shitty decision she may have made a long time ago. Maybe I am wrong.

The top priority for being a parent is to mold a child to do life better than you did. You brought that babe into this world as the product of two people's love for one another and set them out to achieve more than you did. Perhaps even though I was discarded, my existence can still succeed in that purpose. Perhaps if I am able to pay that forward and my son is a better human being than I, then the cycle my biological parents started with my conception and abandonment is broken.

Then again, perhaps my perception is completely wrong and my mother is just scared. This is the crux; speculation. I have next to no knowledge so I have to ponder in a speculative way of rumors, old documents, court intermediaries and conversations ended by the other person. This unique scenario is what I was forged in and am ironically proud of. Without this backstory and speculative past, I would not be this dramatic, emotionally tormented, expressive, apathetic, boisterous idiot that many of you have come to know and some to love. It hurts sometimes but it is what I think anyone from any circumstance could feel. This pain is not exclusive to me. We are all haunted by something and this process of me being shut down served as a reminder to that. What now?

Let's just pick up the pieces, keep moving forward and see what we find on the way together.