And Poof They Are Gone

Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same. – Flavia Weeden

“…and then they go away.  Like that. Poof! Close your eyes and they are gone.” said the beautiful Hispanic girl standing next to me in the grocery store aisle.

I smiled at her. I had no idea she was talking about, who she was saying went away with a poof, but her long dark curly hair, huge brown eyes and fabulous skin tone easily brought a smile to my face.

I smiled at her as I reached over her to grab the Knorrs rice packets. I looked down quickly to make sure I wasn’t going to hit her head with anything and she looked up at me.

“Really, they go away. I miss them when they go away.” She said to me with a slight sad tone to her voice.

Again I smiled. I was about ask “who goes away, honey?” when my expression was interrupted by her Abuela.

“Alecia. Come here. Stop talking to strangers” yelled the portly grandmother.

Alecia turned to me and extended a small tan hand.

“Adios" she said quietly as she walked way.

I continued my grocery shopping and realized how Alecia had become the physical manifestation of something I had been stewing over: people in adoption communities that go away, disappear, don’t contact you, shut down blogs, like POOF, virtually over night.

I don’t begrudge anyone that I know that has gone away – whatever the reason is. I understand all too well how difficult this stuff is and have often, many times in fact, wanted to go away myself. It’s a regular thought. For me, going away would be done with a false belief that if I just dropped out of adoption stuff I would somehow no longer be afflicted. That the avoidance would somehow be akin to developing an antibody that would prevent me from ever being infected with adoption sadness ever again.  Maybe if I went away I could pretend and really believe that I did not have a daughter that I cannot see and talk to. Maybe if I went away I would not have to deal with the nightmares that plague me regularly. Maybe if I deleted all those google alerts then thoughts of Easter House and Gehring Hall and maternity homes would also go away.

(I have tried. It doesn’t work too well for me)

While I don’t begrudge anyone for exercising their own self care, I do wonder if they realize they are missed. Lately I have been asked what happened to Claud. I was also asked why a member of my private left our list with no explanation. I was asked about my friends Robin and Joanna.


They all went away with no explanation. No "hey, see you later". No " catch you on the flip side". No "later alligator" or "after a while crocodile". Just gone.

It is surprising to me that some don’t let me, us, others know that they need space or want to go on and live a life without adoption affected individuals in it.

Don’t they know how those of us that they leave behind will feel?

Those of us torched by adoption, abandoned by our families, know all too well what it feels like to be left. Why don’t we let people know when we are leaving? When we need space? What does it trigger in us to go away? Why don’t we think we will be missed?  Are we testing people to see if we will be missed or do we really want to go away?

How literal is the desire to go away?

I worry terribly when people just disappear. Knowing what I know about some of my adoption torched friends I regularly worry that they did something awful to themselves. Are they okay? How do I reach them? Why aren’t they answering their phone?

In light of all these questions, I realize the only behavior I can change is my own and I am confident that if I ever went away from adoption land I would let my inner circle of close friends know.

And if you are Robin, or Joanna, or Peggy or Liz or Chris or Heidi or Marie or JM or Jeff or any of the other people that I care about that I haven’t heard from in a long time, please know you are missed and that I hope you are well.


8 Thoughts.

  1. i’m still here. check up on you all the time.
    you ever have a moment where you have to wonder if anything you ever believed could possibly have been right?
    The truth is, I don’t have the answers. I don’t know what’s right, what’s wrong, or how to fix things, and the easiest answer is to just go away… poof.
    When the going gets tough, I don’t know what else to do. I’ve spent my whole entire life fighting being the person that goes *poof*, but in the end, of almost everything I get involved in, that’s exactly what I end up doing. The truth is, I never learned any other way to solve things better. Maybe it comes from having the one person who was ever supposed to stick around go *poof* from day 1. The records of my coming into existance, my name, my history… *poof*. Makes it pretty easy to feel like that’s the right answer to anything.
    Maybe it’s what we’re used to, maybe we know it’s harder for other people who have been through the same thing to have it dragged out… sever it all quickly, make it less painless. I don’t know. Maybe everyone just gets tired.
    I told Ken I want to pack up and move to Alaska, never look back. I don’t think he knows I am dead serious.
    I miss you, Suz.

  2. I too wonder about the people who disappear or who suddenly password protect.
    I bookmarked a mom who was about to start on her reunion journey by contacting her daughter – the last entry was in July. I worry about her. I wonder what has happened. I hope she met her daughter and they are having a great time and she is too busy to blog. I fear that may not be the case.
    Robin, something you said really resonated with me.
    you ever have a moment where you have to wonder if anything you ever believed could possibly have been right?
    I am feeling that now. My reunion with my son fell apart after twenty years. I think of all the talks we had, the things he told me about his life, how he would call me every week to tell me about his latest accomplishments.
    It’s too bad adoption generates situations that make people feel like this. I gather from what you said that we don’t have the same adoption experience, I am a mother and it sounds like you are an adoptee. But, that we have the same emotions and the same doubts says a lot to me about what adoption does.
    Good and thoughtful post Suz. I hope you hear from everyone you are concerned about.

  3. suz, I think it is because we are told to go away, to just vanish. And we carry it into every day life. We retract from others, hide within ourselves when we get down.

  4. Robin, my darling, ALASKA? Thats Palin country. Maybe, oh, some remote island instead?
    : )
    You gave me lots of writing prompts gf. And yes, I know you check in now and then. I still miss you regardless but very glad you now have that cute man in your life!

  5. Leanna – Of course I know you are right in many ways, in my own ways as well. I was taught that when there is a problem I am sent away. Naturally, I learned not to share my problems with people becuase they wont help me. Its been a long hard road to realize that some people do care and would help. Tough when your own family abandons you (whether you are a mother or an adoptee) to believe the world is a place of love and goodness.

  6. This osts does ring home! I have thought about disappearing from the EHBabes list on more than one occassion! I’m not the typ to go ina poof though, so you would know! Sometimes I just want to *poof* and disappear though….tired of being bashed for what I believe while trying to support others at the same time. Life is tough enough as it is and adoption an dreunion just make it tougher! I do love ya though!

  7. Hey Suz, As always you write so well. 😉 I don’t think you meant me with this post, at least I think I did an ok job with my blog of saying where I was going. I’ve been juggling being a working mom with two boys, a stays home at night husband and a freaking long commute. When I get on the computer, do the blog rounds, MySpace, Facebook, yada yada, I feel like I’m cheating on my family. I miss it. All of it. Blogging, commenting, etc. Mom C made plans to come for Thanksgiving, celebrate my 30th birthday and she cancelled. Major hurt feelings but honestly, I’ve stopped counting on her like I’d like to. I’ve grown up so much in the last 8 months. I’m sorry if it seems like I don’t care about you. I have since the moment we connected on LJ. You will always have a place in my heart. Much love, Rebecca

  8. I have wondered about a few of those missing in action myself.
    Glad you have not gone ‘POOF’ Suz.

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