“As long as one keeps searching, the answers come” – Joan Baez
Do I really want to read this book?
You Remind Me of Me: A Novel (Paperback)
by Dan Chaon (Author)
"Three lives viewed through a kaleidoscope of memories and secret pain assume a kind of mythical dimension in Chaon’s piercingly poignant tale of fate, chance and search for redemption. As he demonstrated in his short story collection Among the Missing, Chaon has a sensitive radar for the daily routines of people striving to escape the margins of poverty and establish meaningful lives. Here, a woman’s unsuccessful effort to rise above the pain of giving away an illegitimate baby, and to fight against mental illness and offer love to a second child, blights all their lives… "
I am about 100 pages in and wow, its tough. Seriously tough. The maternity home references, the character reaction to the home, her feelings, etc. are quite powerful and yeah, equally triggering.
Books like this take me some time to get through. While normally I can devour a book in an evening, a weekend or a few days, books like this get opened, closed, picked up, put down, cried on, thrown across the room and even at times given away or discarded. (The Primal Wound has taken quite a beating in my house and as of today it is not even here. I lent it to a cutie boy aDad friend of mine to read to better understand his adopted daughters).
I muse over this books and wonder why I read such things. Is this my way to continually punish myself? To continually walk into the emotional torture room and self-flagellate? Or do I get some sort of healing from it? Am I stronger upon reading or weaker or somewhere in between?
What am I hoping to find in all this adoption trauma reading I do? The answer? Some explanation? Some golden key to understand how and why this was done to my child and me? Some healing balm that suddenly makes it alright? Some explanation for why and how social workers who KNEW that separating mother and child was damanging – yet they did it anyway? Some understanding as to how Seymour Kurtz and his ring of baby thieves can sleep at night knowing what they did to so many mothers, children and adoptive families all in the name of the almighty dollar?
What am I looking for?
A friend recently told me she thought that her search for her mother, and eventually finding of her, would fix her. She thought she would feel whole and better and normal. She doesn’t. While she is happy she found her mama, she still feels broken and twisted.
Normally, I would have hugged her, offered some inspirational words or resources or others to talk to.
Her statement made me realize how broken and twisted I am as well.