Robyn, reunited:
adoption, family, and learning how to fly
One day, we were standing on the upper deck sipping boat drinks and inhaling the ocean breeze. My biological dad and I were choking back emotion as we talked about this second chance we were given to know one another.
The conversation with my adoptive parents about meeting my birth parents was not an easy one to have. It happened over a span of a lifetime, right up to the day of actually hugging my birth parents for the first time. It’s still a dialogue we keep up with, as they have now re-entered my life as real living beings, instead of this idea I had of who they could be.
The woman who gave me life was finally in my childhood home, and I was at a loss of words and gutted of my tears. Where do we even begin? How do I try to recount the years of my life, and how do I respectfully ask the questions that haunted me so? 19 years of separation, basically a lifetime, stood between us and the foundation of our relationship.
