For my first official post, I wanted to tell you about
something that happened a few months ago that I had worried about happening and
perhaps some of you worry about it too.
My son and his adoptive parents live about twenty minutes away from
me. As such, there was the potential to
run into each other accidentally, but this had only happened once at the local
farmer’s market. The encounter was
slightly awkward, but we parted ways after about thirty minutes and I was able
to go home and recover the rest of the weekend.
In October, I was invited to come to an open mic poetry
reading at a bar and restaurant in the downtown area. I had a new poem that I had written and I
thought, what was the worst that could happen?
Well, one should never ask that question. I was standing outside the restaurant when my
son’s adoptive father and mother waved at me from inside the restaurant. My son, J, was also with them. I went in thinking, “It could just be a
fluke. They could just be here for a
nice dinner.” Yeah. Right.
“Are you here for the poetry reading tonight?” were the first words out of my son's father's mouth after greeting me. As it turned out, HE is the leader of the
open mic poetry reading group. J
actually walked me up the steps to sign up for a place in the poetry reading
that night. Coming back down, he met one
of my friends and it was the first time any of my friends had met my son. It was an interesting night to say the
least. He stayed for a few poems, but
then was taken home by his mother after a few poets read their work. After all it was past 8 pm and he was only a
couple months past three years old.
Sitting still for poetry is not a skill three-year-olds are known
for. He gave me a hug and a kiss for the
first time when he left. I and my
friends stayed much later and I got a chance to talk to his father about
several things about their life with my son and some details about their side
of the adoption process that I’ll post about at a later date. The last thing that he said to me was that he
hoped I kept coming to the readings and bringing more of my work. I went home that night a bit shaken and it
took me a few days to get over that. I
just wasn’t emotionally prepared to see them.
When I spoke to my parents about it that weekend, their
reactions were positive. But my father
could still see that I was cautious. Later
that week, I found a hand written letter from him in the mail. Let me just emphasize how important that is:
the man is a computer programmer. He is
by no means afraid of an email. He’s on
Facebook and Twitter. He’s about the
most technologically adept 60 year old I know.
But he had decided to send me a hand written letter. I knew that whatever he needed to say it was
important.
His first words were that we never had to discuss this again,
but he had something he wanted to say to me and make sure that I heard
him. He suggested that I keep going to
the poetry readings. His reasoning was
that over time I would get to know J’s parents better and by proxy J better. Eventually it would be easier for me to see
them and it wouldn’t be as much of a shock to the system. The words that made me cry were when he said,
“I say this knowing that I could not do this myself. But in this, I believe you are stronger than
I am.” I was bawling in my car for about
ten minutes after reading that. But
after some calmer thought and a few more tears, I realized that he was right.
My father and I have never discussed the letter. But he does know that I have been going to
the poetry readings once a month ever since.
I have, over time, learned more about my son’s parents and their lives. Sometimes it’s actually easier than sending
an email about a visit. Sometimes I just
talk to his father at the monthly readings and then send an email a day later
so everyone is on the same page about everything. J has turned up a couple more times and I have
handled it better than the first time.
Next month he will be turning four years old. Sometimes I just think time moves too fast.
Have any of you happened to run into your child and their
parents unexpectedly? Or have you ever
feared it happening? If you have, I
understand. And if you ever do, I can
report that it is survivable. It was
difficult. But I was lucky that night in
that I had a couple of friends with me who were more than happy to hold me
together.
I hope all of you are having a wonderful day and I will see
you all again next week!
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