Click-bys and Boxes

“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, "Yes, I’ve got dreams, of course I’ve got dreams." Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they’re still there.” – Erma Bombeck

I did a click by of my daughters facebook last night. Oh, my. She had uploaded some new photos. They took my breath away.

Her hair is an amazing red color right now (nearly identical to what mine is – a teenager recently told me I had "dark phoenix" hair) and the pictures were just so, so, well, breathtaking. Not only is she absolutely stunning but she looks so much like me (only MUCH thinner) it is startling to me at times.

I thought about this at length last night. I had a busy day with house staging and I was exhausted. KennyG floated in the air. I lit some candles and did some yoga breathing.  My thoughts were with her.

It occurred to me that with the exception of my niece (who happens to have the same name as my daughters amended name), my daughter looks more like me than any other member of my family looks like the family. My brother has a son and a daughter. The daughter looks a bit like my younger sister but not hugely.  My older sister has 3 girls and 2 boys. Only one child, the one with the same name as my daughter, resembles my sister. My other sister has 2 boys and one girl. Her oldest son looks like her but the other two look exactly like her husband.

My daughter?  Me. All me. 

I wonder often if that is comforting or infuriating to her? Does she like that we look so much a like? Or does it make it even harder for her to deny me when she looks at me and sees, well, herself?

I laugh as I remember seeing an adoptee reunion video on youtube where an adoptee who had been denied contact saw pictures of her mother and said to herself "I have seen this woman before. She looks so familiar." The adoptee, on the video, then laughed and said "Yeah, I see her everytime I look in the mirror".

In discussing her and her pictures with my friend R, an adoptee, R suggested that my daughter has put me into a box. I am not real to her. As long as we dont meet, she doesnt talk to me, I am not real and she can avoid me and all the pain that is associated with our situation.  Emails can be avoided and marked as spam.  But a person you have met?  Talked to?  Been hugged by? New rules or social order apply and they are not so easily disregarded.

I suspect my friend R might have something there. I can see that possibly being true. 

If it is, I wonder if its a pretty emotional box she put me in? Is it a nice strong stable box or is it an ugly worn moldy box?

I dont want to be in a Tiffany box. Too restrictive and stuffy. I would like to be in an ornately, intricately carved wooden box. Or maybe even a cardboard box decorated with jewels and stickers and fabulous colors. Oh, maybe even a puzzle box. Perhaps a puzzle box like that from Hellraiser. Only, instead of opening it and releasing Pinhead and the cenobites, it would release peace and love and healing for both of us.

Boxes, no boxes, similarities or not, I continue to look forward to the day that she and I get to meet again. And man oh man, she is gorgeous.

4 Thoughts.

  1. When my aunt’s daughter found her (and that’s a long long story I don’t have permission to blog and — infuriatingly — don’t know enough about) and we got to see a picture of her, she looks just like MY mom. Way more than we (my sister, brother and I) do.

  2. God’s Boxes
    I have in my hands two boxes,
    Which God gave me to hold.
    He said, ‘Put all your sorrows in the black box,
    And all your joys in the gold.’
    I heeded His words, and in the two boxes,
    Both my joys and sorrows I stored,
    But though the gold became heavier each day,
    The black was as light as before.
    With curiosity, I opened the black,
    I wanted to find out why,
    And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole,
    Which my sorrows had fallen out by.
    I showed the hole to God, and mused,
    ‘I wonder where my sorrows could be!’
    He smiled a gentle smile and said,
    ‘My child, they’re all here with me..’
    I asked God, why He gave me the boxes,
    Why the gold and the black with the hole?
    ‘My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
    The black is for you to let go.’
    Odd that I got this email after I read your post. Had to pass it on.
    I think its nice for to see her or watch her even from afar. This post makes me think what it may be like for her. To see or know of someone who resembles you and represents a huge chunk of who you are. I get chills. But I can understand it also.
    If you run into someone while they are shopping, having lunch, whatever is that stalking them?

  3. It’s a whole new world since the time I thought of searching for my son, with Internet and this space and that face.
    On one of the forums I once belonged to, a mother who googled her daughter’s name regularly, found an upsetting comment on a blog written by her daughter and couldn’t get over it. I wanted to say to her, “Well then, for crying out loud, don’t look!”
    Truth is, if my son hadn’t wanted to meet me, if he was holding back, I would look. Tortuous as it may be. I would want to see pictures, hear what he had to say, even if it hurt.
    I would hunt him down like a dog! At least I think I would…
    But I digress. Yes, Suz, I suspect your daughter has put you in a safe place, whatever kind of box it is, until she can deal with the reality of her loss. I believe in my heart that someday she will be ready to let you out, to make you real, and face whatever it is she is afraid of. I so admire your patience. And say, thank goodness you can SEE HER!

  4. I just entered into reunion with my daughter in May of 2007. I never get tired of looking at her pictures on Facebook. I actually told her how much I love the pictures, and she has now started adding pictures from her childhood.
    I had always read how much it meant to adult adoptees to experience mirroring with their natural families, I never realized what it would me to me to see myself in her! It was incredible.
    Love your blog!
    Jenn

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