Conversations with my birth mother and father revealed something I never knew about my tattoo, and it sent chills to my bones.
We, as adoptees, did not choose to be adopted... but our adoption reunion gives us the opportunity to make our own choices about our adoption for the first time.
My birth parents had always just been this vague concept... But it was in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve that I realized there were two very real people out there somewhere who gave me life.
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.
It hadn’t really occurred to me that a funeral would bring about the chance to meet my biological aunts, uncles, cousins and grandfather for the first time... Not only would I be mourning... I would be making a first impression on the rest of my birth mother’s family.
My biological dad looked eerily similar to the way he looked in a dream I had as a child. He was tall with whispy strawberry blonde hair. His skin had a pink tint to it. He wore dark wash jeans that fit him well, with a light blue button down shirt and flip-flops.
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.