Now watch me turn this around to be all about me!
There was a lot of hype about today's upcoming Oprah episode. There was going to be some kind of "emotional reunion" between Oprah and some unnamed person. It turns out, she has a half-sister that she never knew about until October 2010.
Oprah's mother gave up a baby girl for adoption while Oprah was living with her father. That baby, Patricia, tried to seek out her mother as an adult. The information she received from the state stated that she had a sister named Patricia (Pat), a brother named Jeffrey. It also stated that she had another sister living in Tennessee with her father.
The state adoption agency called to let Patricia know that her mother did not want any contact with her. That same day, Oprah's mother was on the news giving an interview. She talked about her 2 children, Pat and Jeffrey who has since passed away. A light bulb went on in Patricia's head. She made the connection that this was her family and the rest is history.
As someone searching for her own family, this episode was incredibly emotional for me. As Patricia talked about how complete she felt now that she found her family, I felt the old familiar longing for the missing piece of my own puzzle.
The past few days, that feeling has been particularly fresh. I received an e-mail from ancestry.com that I had a new "hint" for a relative. I logged in and looked it over and checked out some other relatives as well. I found some new ones on my mom's side of the family, and some new ones on Aaron's side including a woman that was married at 14 years old and died at 18 of tuberculosis.
Anyway, as I was playing around on there, I saw an ad for their DNA testing feature. For around $150, you can send in a cheek swab and they will test it to find your ancient ancestors. "Great!" I thought. "I can use that combined with paper records to follow the trail to my mysterious relatives!"
Nope, guess again. Women can only trace their maternal blood line. If they want to know about their paternal ancestors, they have to have a male relative submit their DNA. Something about mitochondrial DNA from the father being destroyed after insemination. I don't know, I didn't care. The point is, I'm screwed. I had such a bright glimmer of hope, and it was snatched away by nature. Besides episodes of especially painful menstruation, I think it was the only time I would have preferred to have a penis. I was near tears.
Then, one of my favorite movies was playing on TBS this weekend - Mamma Mia! For those unfamiliar, it is a FANTASTIC musical based on the music of Abba. It is about a young woman, who is about to be married and her single mother. The woman has no idea who her father is, but stumbles upon her mother's diary. She finds out that her mom had 3 partners around the time she was conceived. She somehow uses that information to track them down and invite them to her wedding, assuming she will know which one is her father when she them. If you want to know the rest, please watch it!
 |
| He was happy, honest! Just nervous. :-) |
Anyway, when I watch it, I can easily imagine the anticipation she is feeling while waiting for the three men to arrive. The anxiety and nervousness of meeting them. The examination of their mannerisms, talents, etc. The decision of who should walk her down the aisle. This was something I had to figure out. Because of the isolating nature of abuse, I was never able to form close relationships with my male relatives. The one I was closest to was my Uncle and Godfather, Ralph. I could walk down the aisle in a symbol of independence, which was especially important to me at the time. Or I could have my mom walk me down the aisle, but that's too "non-traditional" for my taste. I had several male friends that I was close to, one of which I referred to as my "adopted big brother". But that didn't seem like an appropriate choice either. In the end, I chose Uncle Ralph. He had been very supportive of me and actually tried to be part of my life. He and Aunt Jane also sent me birthday presents for awhile, and that's something a little girls remembers. ;-) In retrospect, I wouldn't change that decision if I could. To really grind salt into the wound, there is also lovely poignant scene between mother and daughter as she is dressing for her wedding day. THE TEARS!!!
So between Oprah, DNA and Mamma Mia!, my "daddy issues" are feeling close to the surface right now. And it's just not something I'm ready to let go of, at least not yet. So I'm contacting the State of Michigan to see if I can find my adoption records (my stepdad legally adopted me when I was 2 or 3) to see if there is any info there. Wish me luck!!
Rachel
No comments:
Post a Comment