Back then no one prepared my Grandparents that these children were not made to fulfill all their hopes and dreams. No one told them that these would be hurting children and that there would be anger. Grandma and Grandpa wanted children and my Mom and Uncle were the means to that end. They were completely unprepared for the realities of loving older non-biological children.
After adopting Mom and Uncle T my Grandparents had 4 children of their own. They were a hard working farming family, proud of their biological children. My Momma has shared many times the pain she felt upon being introduced. Her parents would say, "These are our children and these are the ones we adopted."
I don't know how soon it started, but my Mom and Uncle T's life became one of violence perpetrated by their adoptive parents. My Grandparents seemed to want them as farm hands more than as children to raise. The adopted children were separate.
My Grandparents were admired and respected in the community, but the home life was another experience altogether. My Mom would hide the bald spot created by the way her Mom would pull her hair. After marks were noticed by a Doctor my Grandma was more cautious in where she hit and yanked. My Uncle would force himself to smile during the excruciating beatings Grandpa would give him. He told my Mom when they were alone, "I will NEVER let them see me cry."
Two toddlers, pulled from a family that very much loved them and very much wanted to keep them were made prisoners in a home of pain. Each of them dealt with the loss differently. My Mom never stopped seeking their love and approval. We, her children, knew very little as youngsters, the horrors she endured. Grandpa's cheeks were rosy and his laugh was loud. Grandma seemed welcoming. It took us longer to notice the presents were different and the time spent with us was much less. It took meeting my blood Grandpa, and seeing the way his eyes lit up and he told us funny stories about Momma as a toddler, to realize that we had never seen her looked at that way before. Mom was abused in several ways over the course of her childhood but she never stopped trying to earn her adoptive parents love and I believe she made a kind of loving peace with her adoptive parents before they died.
My Uncle pulled away from his abusers, but he still kept them close enough to maintain ties with Mom and close enough to feel the reminder that he was not wanted. The pain ate at every relationship he ever had, but it could never sever the love between brother and sister.
The next abuse came during the revealing of the Will. All 4 biological children received an equal share in my Grandparents estate, and Mom and Uncle T were allotted a much smaller portion to be paid in even smaller increments over the course of 10 years. Some would say they should be grateful they got anything at all, but the pain of being forced to be separate from the others, touched them even from the grave. A few years later they were informed by a sibling it would be more comfortable for everyone if they no longer came to Christmas events.
My rant. How could they?! How could the siblings continue to perpetrate the abuse!? How can my Mom continue to be kind and TAKE IT from them. Why does she even want to be with them? Mom and Uncle T aren't drunkards, they aren't druggies, or perverted, or ugly. Mom is just a nice Christian lady who adores her family. My Momma has never shown them anything but kindness and the evil of abuse continues to hurt her even now! Yet she STILL speaks kindly about them. Rant over.
This weekend I found out my Uncle T is dying. One biological sibling is attempting to make contact and show care and concern for my Uncle, but, although my Mom pleads, he will not have it. He has my Mom and she has him and I don't think he wants anymore "faking it" for others.
I am broken for him. His whole life has in some ways been a series of letdowns and now this. I cannot speak my heart to my Mom on this because I don't want to make her pain worse. I keep thinking... He has been with her through it all. He knows all of her pain and she knows his. They are connected... I think the pain of that loss is more than she is thinking about right now.
I don't know why exactly I am writing all of this except that I know their story has shaped my own. I am a product of my Mother's pain and I want so much to write a better story for this generation.
Please, let my Mom and my Uncle's pain remind you that the wounds NEVER go away. Don't assume because you adopt older children you will love your adopted children as easily as you do your biological children or as easily as you would an adopted infant. I hate writing that part, but I must. My Mom cautioned me over and over regarding adopting. "Make sure you love them like your own, Mandy."
I am learning with this placement that, 'love them like your own' had to be a choice first and a feeling second. I am also putting as much effort into teaching Cy and Liv the language and attitudes of love for their brothers as I do myself. I cannot assume that everyone will figure it all out eventually. I will lead by word and by deed until everyone of my children refuses to focus on what makes us separate, but rather embraces what connects us.
Uncle T,
if somehow you ever see this...
I can't think of you without having some memory of laughter and being rowdy. You brought the fun to my childhood.
When I look into their little faces I see you. I think of you and how much you just needed a hug and to be accepted and encouraged. I am trying. I am praying that the Lord will make me into the person they need me to be.
You do have a legacy. You made a difference in my life and that is making a difference in my childrens' lives.
Love,
Mandy
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