Me at 17, two months pregnant but not knowing it.
While I am waiting for more news from the traveler, I thought I would tell you a story about the other part of me.
There has been something missing from my life. I have tried to fill this empty hole with something else or someone else over and over again. The pain of loss never goes away no matter how hard you try to replace or ignore it. It is true that the heart can be broken and the soul can be ripped in two and torn. There is no peace of mind only temporary stillness. When I left my newborn son in the arms of a stranger I could only hope that the choices others made for me were the right ones. His tiny fingers curled around mine for one last time and holding my breath, I tried to hold back the tears and failed. I learned then that common sense can be cruel. I tried not to look back as I left the hospital but I realize now that I have never stopped.
The Musician, 2 days old.
Years went by and time healed many scars. Yet, every now and then a small blond haired boy, a certain song, or a faint smell of something familiar would open that scar causing me to bleed again. That is when I would climb into that empty hole and realize just how alone I was. Lucky for me there has always been someone there to help pull me out again.
Fate had been kind to me. I had 3 beautiful and healthy children as well as a loving husband. The little blond haired boy had become a man. The song was all but forgotten, yet there was still a faint smell of something familiar that hung in the air. I tried not to dwell on this. I stopped myself whenever I started to wonder where he was, what he was doing and if he was happy. As it turns out I no longer have to ask myself these questions. Fate has been kind to me again.
On the other side of the world there was a young man who also felt a missing part of his life. His search for me began years ago while his parents were still alive. He never gave up hope, and he never stopped trying. Armed with just the name of an Adoption Agency and a helpful social worker his search was made easier by the wonderful world of Facebook. The social worker found me, contacted me and put the two of us in touch with each other.
Thirty- four years have passed, and it has been almost two months since he found me. The bond between us grows stronger. No one has ever made me fall in love so fast. Not for one instant has there been a stranger looking at me through the camera lens of Skype. How could there be? All I ever see in his face or hear in his voice is the missing piece of my heart. Yes, we still have a lot to learn about each other, but what a wonderful discovery each day brings. My son, who I will call the Musician (yes he is quite a talented one) will be traveling to Minnesota this Friday to meet his sisters for the first time. He has never had a sister or brother before so you can imagine his excitement as he comes face to face with another part of himself that has been missing.
This journal is about so much more than one daughter and her trip to the states. The Traveler, the Artist, the Musician, the Actor and myself; we are all traveling on a journey towards becoming a family at last. There are many who take this journey with us and many still to come.