I never gave them a thought until ten years ago, and since then they've occupied my mind a lot. They're a complicated presence in my life. I'm unspeakably thankful to them, jealous of them, and a little angry with them, and I have so many questions I'd like to ask them. A couple days ago, I asked each of my children separately, "Do you have any questions about your adoption or your birth parents? Anything you want to talk about?" Sarah completely ignored me (which is not unusual, so I know she wasn't just avoiding the subject. She simply has selective hearing. If she's not interested in what you're talking about, she really doesn't hear it). She asked for a snack. When I asked Noah the same thing, he said, "Nope, not really. Do you want to play Legos with me?"
Last night I had a dream about Sarah's birth mother. I don't remember it all, but in the part I do remember, she was a tall, chubby woman with a nice spirit about her that I liked. She had her big hand stuffed full of green beans, and she was shoving them in her mouth as she did ballet moves across the floor.
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