I shouldn't write this diary, cause this is an important time about important things and Daily Kos should be focused on those things. I blame Betty Pinson for this diary, because she reminded me today that this isn't just a political activist website, but a community of people who care. So, I am going to ask you to care about me, because I really need it right now.
I wrote months ago that I was finally finding the courage to look for my birth family (in part because after turning in my adopted parents for decades of child abuse, I no longer have an adopted family).
I got the call that my birth parents are both dead. My father at 65 years old and my mother at 62 years old. I've been in shock about it for the last few days. Hell of a way to spend a holiday weekend. Then with one kind comment (after some unkind comments from me), Betty Pinson snapped me out of my shock. And now I feel like I have a black hole in my chest. I am typing this through waves of tears.
I know I shouldn't be telling this to you guys, but you are my family. You have been for years now. That's how I have seen it. I know that I piss some of you off a lot, but there are no people I have ever met, besides my wife, who I feel like I belong to like the people of this community. A community of people with big hearts and the courage to think for ourselves.
I don't know much about my birth parents yet, but I do know that I have relatives out there. I am scared as hell to contact them. I know a little from what little I've found about them online over the weekend. They seem like normal people. I read about an uncle who died at 62 and the way he was described seemed like someone I am related to. That was different. To read about someone I'm related to who is like me. Too bad he's dead too. I would start to worry about 3 close relatives dying in their early 60s, but I've seen that lots of my older relatives are (or were) in their 80s and 90s.
I don't have anything more to tell about this yet. I'll tell you all how it goes meeting someone in my family when I finally get the courage to contact someone. I have no idea how long that will take. I am kind of taking this one toe in the water at a time.
There is one thing about my birth father. He was the youngest in his family and when his mom died his father dropped him off at Boy's Town. My father grew up in an orphanage. He and my mother both had real problems. They were not capable of caring for children. Governor Gregoire (long before she was gov) was the one who got my brother and I taken away permanently from my birth parents. She did the right thing and I'm thankful to her for doing it. But apparently, it took years in court to do it, because my father fought to keep us. He couldn't take care of us, but I can't help feeling good about the fact that at least some parent I've had actually wanted me enough to fight for me. I imagine that after being raised in an orphanage that it must have broken his heart to have his own sons in foster care.
Both of my parents died so young. I don't know how yet. But I can't help but wonder if they thought about my brother and I before they died. I hope they did. I hope they didn't forget about us.
Anyway, thanks again, Betty. I know you had no idea that what you wrote would happen to have such a profound effect on me, but it did. We had just been fighting and you had every reason to never want to speak to me again, but when I wrote something that revealed some pain, you wrote something kind to me. That's what loving good people do. They are kind even to the people who haven't been kind to them.
5:05 PM PT: Thanks everyone. I've been reading your comments. I really appreciate them.