The greatest problem human beings face is the fact that we are born to die. And so religions are created. Bars are built. Plastic surgeons make millions. As they age, people get more and more aware of their mortality, and life becomes more and more precious. But what if you already faced death as a relinquished infant and both lost and won? What happens then?

All my who am I, why am I here, and what am I supposed to do with my life questions were answered by page 199, and although I still had two chapters to go, I thought I would stop and write about my sense of calm and acceptance and peace and hope before my head exploded and I lost all ability to type.

I’m learning that living with a wound is, amazingly enough, awesome. It means I am often so full of feeling I think I may die, so I am learning to feel more. I am learning to handle more sensation than I could last year, yesterday. Because of my wound, and my acceptance of it, my love of it, I am more alive.

The thing is, when I was a teenager, I don’t know that I could have talked about adoption. I felt so fundamentally, sickeningly awful about myself that talking about feelings would have felt like a death threat.

Adoptees historically are dreamers, for at the same time they are living in the present, they are cycling through thoughts of the life they didn’t live. Get to know these people. Let them talk. Help them to feel. It’s going to be okay. Better than okay. It’s going to be really good. 

It’s a solid move for adoptees to assert their needs after a lifetime of trying to fit in and not make waves. It’s a little scary, but it works.

My friend has a 16-year-old son and the boy is disappearing before the man’s eyes. The boy is struggling with school, with his relationships, with his performance on the track team. It’s hard enough to be a teenager, but to be a teenager who was adopted is really something.

I wanted to see what the world would look like when it came through Mary in pictures.

Boy did she run with the idea. Mary has thrown herself off snowy cliffs in Switzerland for sport, so when she goes for something, she goes big.

I talked to a woman today who had an adult daughter she’d adopted as an infant. The woman told me how the daughter has everything: brains, looks, charm, but how her life never seems to come together. She told me the daughter has been in lots of therapy, but as soon as the therapist is just about to actually get somewhere, the daughter quits.

Don’t pay attention to your children when they tell you they aren’t affected by adoption. They are clueless. They are also terrified of hurting your feelings.

I wrote in an earlier blog that I was going to Montana to meet some of my birth family. I wrote that I was afraid and that if I could have turned around on my way to the airport without anyone noticing, I would have. 

Anyway.

I went.

It was awesome.

I wish I could ask everyone I know to make their mask and then to give it to me. I want to cover a wall with these masks and then I want my friends to come to dinner as themselves and we can eat under the wall of masks and we can talk about what we used to carry and who we are without that false cage.