On a more personal note I wanted to borrow a phrase I thought of this weekend. It's from Postcards From the Edge.
The guy who is legally my father, not the real one, has always wanted me to do well...but not better.
Actually, that's paraphrasing, but you get the picture.
Ok, now for the explanation. I was adopted as an infant. Apparently I was conceived at a drive-in movie by two teenagers in Kansas City, Kansas in the fall of 1956. I know her name,(Joann Taylor) and though I have been told I've met her, I'm sure it was when I was very small as I don't remember.
All I know about my biological father is his first name, Doug. I also think he was from Independence Mo. That's it! That's all I know about my own history. There is a certain freedom in that, and imprisonment as well. I can become, from this point on, whoever I want to be, but at the same time I'd kind of like to be who I should be. Doug and Joanne's son.
They're both well into their 60's and should be able to handle whatever life throws at them by now. And it's not like they don't know I'm out there. So should that bastard that's on my birth certificate expire in the next couple of years, and should Doug and Joanne still be alive. I'm planning to look them up. We'll see if the courts will let me do that or not. In Missouri, where the adoption took place, it requires the permission of the adoptive parents if they're alive. And that SOB of mine wouldn't allow it if for no other reason than it's something I want, so I have time I think, I can wait til he's dead.
I've spent 50 years apologizing for my existence to whoever would listen...and there has been no shortage of audience. But now I'm through. The people who have purportedly been my family all my life have succeeded in accomplishing nothing but tearing me down at every turn, making me hate myself and telling me I was as worthless as they. I'm done with that finally. There will be no more apologizing. I hope I don't burn too many bridges on the way out, I'm sure there are some I'd like to cross again.
But the one leading back to the bosom of the family that has done nothing but begrudge me every success, every ounce of progress, every meal I was fed, and every night I spent under their roofs, is not one I care to tread again. My conscience as a member of that tribe is sterling, so no matter what they say, no matter what they do, no matter what heinous, egregious, defaming, lies they throw out there to the universe about me, I can take it. Because no matter the outcome, I know the truth. I can look in the mirror every morning and see a whole person who made it this far against all the odds, and against a bunch of people trying their damnedest to prevent it.
I got this far, I can get the rest of the way. I just have to be careful not to let my dislike of those people eat me up inside.
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