Emotional Jenga Tower

I did not write much.  I submitted a few contributions, read the posts of others and commented when a piece resonated with me.  Most of all, I enjoyed reading the prompts.  Odd, I suppose, to sign up for a course that expected you to write about your grief and all you do is read the writing prompts.   One might suggest I wasted my time or money taking Megan Devine’s Writing Your Grief course.  They would be wrong.  I may not have been writing but I was certainly ruminating. Her course and her prompts stirred things inside me even if those things never made it to my keyboard.

I realized, again, that I am at where I am at with my grief. It has not been better or worse for several years now. I am not currently expecting it to change nor am I actively working toward a change. It is what it is, as trite as that phrase may be. I am okay with it…just being there.  This may be where I stay, at least for now.  It may change if my daughter ever decides to meet me.  It may not. Time will tell.

I found Megan and her course via Tim Lawrence incredible post Everything Doesn’t Happen for a Reason.  The course description (and Megan’s blog and personal story) intrigued me so I signed up. I did so early on with the expectation that it was going to help me grieve more, have some incredible epiphany and improve my life.  It did none of those things and yet this is not for lack of trying.

Jenga_distorted Each block in the tower of grief is a different painful aspect of my adoption surrender and lack of reunion experience.  Over the years, through this blog and other avenues, I have taken one piece out here or there.  Every so lightly I reach into my wounded soul and pull out a piece of my pain.  I observe it, turn it over and under, and feel the texture of the block of pain.  There are times I share the extracted block with others and other times I quickly dispose of it off the table of my life.  With each removed block, the tower of grief is less powerful and wobbles a bit however the foundation is still there and will always be there.  If  the emotional Jenga tower should fully topple, the foundation will still be secure on the surface of my soul.   I am oddly okay with that. It is not going away.

To learn more about Megan Devines Writing Your Grief course, visit her site – Refuge in Grief.

Coke & Adoption Reunion

I once commiserated on my Instagram via a photo of a Diet Coke bottle. I had gotten the bottle at my office cafeteria and grabbed it without noticing it was one of those “Share a Coke with” bottles.  The first time I got one of these bottles it had my daughters original name on it.  It stopped me in my tracks and caused me to lose my breath. I literally said out loud to the bottle “I wish I could  share a Coke with her. Shit, I would take a glass a water.”

The second time I got a bottle like this it had her amended name on it.  I got angry and joked that I was fed up with Coke and its mean jokes.

Today, I take it back. Watch this video in its entirety. You will see an adoption reunion (in addition to a few other heart warming stories).

Can I say how pleased I am to see more and more mainstream media featuring adoption reunion?

Thank you Coco-cola.


Silence Like a Cancer

This post has almost nothing to do with adoption, unless you could consider the line “Silence, like a cancer grows”.  I did think of adoption reform when I heard it in this song.   Keep talking, sharing, fighting, reforming, and more.  Only with such lack of silence can we cure the cancer that is American adoption practice.

Now, to the song and video.  For those that do not know, Disturbed is an American heavy metal band from Chicago (yay!).  I have been a long time fan of them (and Godsmack and Five Finger Death Punch and Finger Eleven and and and…). Surprised?  I am quite the heavy metal head banger. My husband finds it amusing (he is not).

Disturbed had been on a hiatus until the August 2015 release of their album Immortalized.  This new album has an incredible cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence.  Do not let the heavy metal reference deter you. You must listen to this song and David Draiman’s vocals.  The video is pretty bad ass as well.

Remember, slience, like a cancer grows.

Watch the video.