~30 Days of Truth~ DAY 4: Something you have to forgive someone for....

To start with, I thought this was going to end up being about men from my past, and forgiving them for hurting me. However, once I started thinking about it, I realized. I HAVE already forgiven everyone that's hurt me...relationship wise. I've had the list for days of what each topic is about and I've been thinking about this one a lot. I realize there's actually two people I need to learn to forgive. To me, they count as one unit because that's how I group them. My parents. The good 'ol parental units. Now THERE'S some deep-seated, hidden pain and issues with this one. Ugh. I really don't even want to think about them at all, but I guess sometimes, there's no avoiding it really. Honestly, this can get pretty involved, since there's TWO sets of parental units that I really need to learn how to forgive.

For all intents and purposes, Gary and Agnes Ille are my parents. They raised me. The story of Gina starts before them though. I was born to Paula Strickland and Allen Brock. She was unmarried, and had a set of twins already that were 3 years older than me. During the course of my life, I've found out a lot about her. Some I got from her directly, and some I just learned by paying attention. I had some generalized information about my biological parents, given to my adoptive parents by the adoption agency they went through to get me. It was just basically a lot of physical appearance information. Yay! Like I seriously care how tall my paternal grandfather was. (I found later in life that the man looks like the head honcho of the KKK, with the racist attitude to match, but that's another blog altogether!)

My bio mother decided that since her folks were some kind of bible beater types, that she should hide her pregnancy with me, and get rid of the evidence at her earliest convenience....which is precisely what she did.  It was considerably easy for her to do since she's a shorter, plumper lady.  She couldn't have her folks knowing she was having ANOTHER baby out of wedlock. So, July 2, 1976 rolled around, and she hauled her cookies to the hospital...gave birth, and walked away. Apparently, before this, she'd been in contact with my bio father, who signed his paternal rights away. From what I've been told, he was in college and was trying to make something of his life. So, while I still have issues with the fact that he gave me up, I can almost understand it. KEYWORD : "almost".

I really think that my younger brother and I were told at the wrong age that we were adopted. (He's not my bio brother). I think I was about 10 years old. It was a bit too much for me I think. I felt like I didn't even know who I was anymore. All those years, I thought Gary and Agnes had "made" me. I don't know. I just wasn't prepared for it I guess. My issues with it mentally started as soon as I was told about it. When I was 14, I started expressing a desire to know if there was any way I could find these two people that were responsible for creating me. My Mom sent off to the adoption agency, letting them know that if my bios ever came looking for me....I was interested. Apparently the "I wanna know where I came from" fever was catching, because my brother also talked to our mother about doing the same for him.

I was 22, married, and had two children already by the time anything about my bios ever surfaced again. My husband, Nate, was on the way to the daycare with Eric when FedEx came by the house with an envelope. I have to add, that was THE biggest envelope I've ever seen, and a complete waste of trees. It contained one tiny sheet of paper in it. It simply said, "We have matched you with your birth father. Please contact us at blah blah blah for more information."  Words cannot even express my reaction. It was pretty much immediate tears and my husband standing there looking at me as if I had instantly gone bat shit crazy out of thin air. He expressed his desire for me to cease crying and wait for him to return from the daycare before I completely lost it. LOL. I truly laughed my fool head off at those words and the expression on his face.  Long story short, I called and was given my father's information. I called, and he relayed a story to me about how he came to start looking for me. He was sitting around in front of the computer in his office at home, and all of a sudden thought of me, and starting searching online. He found a girl that he THOUGHT was me. (obviously, he had yet to find out it wasn't me at the time). His wife comes in because she hears his excited noise. She is informed he thinks he found his daughter online. The wife is floored because he has failed to tell her that he has ever fathered child. (They were never able to have a baby. I'm it. I'm all that's out there with ties to this man).  Naturally, there is friction between them now, but he continues on with his search because now he feels like he can't let go of it. He contacts my bio mother, and tells her he thinks he's found me. She eventually goes out to meet this woman, her husband, and what she believes to be one of her grandchildren.  Another long story short, it's NOT me, and my bio mother is apparently crushed and pissed at my bio father. She's pissed when she has absolutely NO right to be. The girl's birthday was in December. MY birthday is in July. I can see my bio father being clueless. He wasn't even there when I was born....but, a mother? A mother that doesn't know what day she gave birth to one of her children? Yeah, if I was him, I would have told her to kiss my ass all day long. SHE should have known better.

Anywho, Allen is upset with himself, but continues to search, and finally makes contact with the agency I was adopted from. They confirm that I am indeed his daughter and that I have made it known that I want to know them if they ever came looking. I talk to him on the phone a long time....crying like a baby, but excited at the same time. He informs me he's going to call her, but that she's probably going to be angry with him. I flat out told him to tell her to piss off if she caught an attitude with him. At least HE was actually looking, which is more than I could say for her. Later that evening, my phone rang, and it was her on the phone. The first thing she said to me was "Could you please tell me what day you were born?" I kind of scoffed, and said, "No ma'am, no I can't. Why don't YOU tell me what day I was born?"  LOL. She informed me she thought I was hostile, and I assured her that I indeed WAS. What's sad, is that withing minutes, I had MORE reason to be mad at her. She told me about my older twin siblings. Danielle and Kevin are three years older than me.  Then she proceeds to tell me all about my younger brother Josh. Josh, who she had a year and a half after me...and kept...because she was just too traumatized by the idea of giving up another baby. Pfffft. Traumatized my ass. (I found out not long after, that she just got around. I learned that from her own daughter...my older sister. They had a lot of different men in their lives from what I learned).

Funny thing about my whole adoption was....I was born in Florida. When I found all these new family members, I found that my sister was living a mere 2 and a half hours away from me in Fort Bragg, NC. My mother was also living in N.C...five hours away in Marion, and my father was 6 hours away in Chesapeake, Virgina. All those years, they had been right there in the same state with me. My sister immediately scheduled a visit with me, and drove up from Fort Bragg with my niece. We all went out to dinner at some restaurant in Wilmington. It was nuts. Had she not bleached her hair, she and I could pass for twins. It was like looking at yourself in a mirror. Craziness, to say the least.  I met my mother 23 years to the day she gave me up. Packed my husband and son in the car and drove to the mountains and laid eyes on her for the first time on my 23rd birthday. I guess I was expecting more out of that reunion. Damn that Sally Jessy Raphael for making me think my reunion would be some wonderful, tears of joy event. She totally screwed me! I should have never been watching those reunion shows of hers. It didn't happen that way for me.

Weird thing was, I didn't meet the bio father till years later. After that original call, he called every once in awhile, but not much. I found out that finding out about my existence was causing major problems in his marriage. She didn't want him having shit to do with me, no matter what he actually wanted. (I'll say now, I think that Judy, his wife is a total twat. That's just for the record). Moving on....he just dropped out of sight. He tried to buy me out of his life once by buying tires for my car one year on my birthday. Sent a card with some money...and a have a nice life. (Judy's influence, no doubt). Years later when I was with my 2 youngest kids' father, I ran across the bio father online again somehow. He expressed the want to come and see me. Of course, I wanted that. I already knew at this point that there wasn't going to be an ongoing relationship with my bio mother, so I wanted that with at least one of them. Tony (my ex) and I had saved up some money to take my father out to some place nice for dinner. We took him to a seafood restaurant in Southport, N.C.  He decided to sneak the bill off the table while we were away from it, and paid the bill instead of letting me get it. Maybe some people might think I overreacted by getting pissed about that, but he took something away from me by doing it. He had driven all morning from Virgina to get to my place and we'd only been hanging out with him a few hours. I couldn't wait to get back to the house and talk his head off. I asked a ton of health questions, extended family questions (which he really wasn't trying to answer, but at the time, I had no idea why), and I even had him take his shoes off so I could see if I got my hideous longer second toe from him. I still don't know where that came from. It turns out all I got from him was my lazy left eye. That's some bullshit to get from someone. Pffffft! I jumped up to go straighten my bedroom up and give it to him to use. We had another day of fun stuff planned for him. He brought all those plans to a screeching halt with just a few words. "Gina, I'm not staying. I only came here for closure."  Wow. Just remembering that has me here with tears in my eyes. What a way to end the day. He stomped on my heart again that day. After speaking those words, he got up, said he had to leave, got in his truck, and drove away. I didn't hear from him for years. It was actually a couple years ago when I had Myspace. He found me on there and added me. Said he just wanted to know how I was doing. I think he and the twat are divorced now, so that explains that. Needless to say, I didn't let myself get all sucked into the idea of him being a part of my life again. It hurt too much the 2nd time he dumped me and left. I have no idea what he's doing or where he is at the moment. Maybe one of these days I'll check...then again.....maybe not.

I don't know how to forgive them for making me feel unwanted. Ya give a child up once. FINE....but ya do it more than once....I don't know how to come back from the way that made me feel. I just don't know how to do it. ( I hope to God, my Brianna doesn't hate me like this. I thought giving her up was what was best for her, but if she feels the same way I have all these years....HOW can that be for the best?)


THE ADOPTIVE PARENTS:

Smart people? Yes, they are. They both went to college and both have degrees. My Dad is an industrial hygienist (safety engineer) and my mother is now a retired college professor. Her last place of employment was UNC-Wilmington.

Hard workers? Yes, they are. They were both immigrants who came to this country with their families and made a life for themselves here. They worked their asses off to get to where they are now.

Did they take care of us? Provide for us? Give us many opportunities in life? Yes, they did. They worked hard so we didn't have to want for things growing up. We never went without food or clothes. They've paid for schooling for both of us kids.

Am I an ungrateful wretch of a child? I suppose if you asked my parents for that answer, their replies would be a yes. I AM the black sheep of this family. I never did anything the way THEY think I should have done it. I'm not a good daughter, or sister, or mother. That's probably exactly what you'd read if they were to have access to this blog. My father would let everyone know what a colossal disappointment I am as a human being. What it boils down to is this....as long as I continue to be me, and not be what he (or they) would like me to be, I am a failure.

You can give a child all the material possessions in the world, all the money in your bank account, and I'm here to tell you that something is still lacking. If you're not giving love to that child, and you're not SHOWING it to them, you are lacking something as a parent. I could care less if they dropped $1000 dollars in my lap right now. It all adds up to nothing when you don't feel loved. What child wants to hear their parent tell them "If we'd known how you'd turn out, we never would have adopted you."? I heard it. I heard it more than once. I heard it enough times that I will never be able to wipe it from my memory. It's been YEARS since I've heard it and it never goes away. I moved away from Wilmington and N.C. years ago. There's been many times I was in rough spots and the options were "move to another possible rough spot" or "crawl home to Mommy and Daddy". I can assure you that I chose the rough spots every time. Why? I chose the rough roads, because I can do bad all by myself. I don't need the people who should be my support system making me feel worse than I already do. I never call. I've called when I've needed help out of desperation. Why call when all I'm going to hear is how I've always done everything wrong. How if I'd just listened to them, then I wouldn't be where I am. I KNOW all the mistakes I've made. I live with them every day. I'm affected by all my past life choices EVERY day, no matter whether I show that to the outside world or not.

I just came back to the east coast in March of this year. I hadn't seen my folks in roughly 7 years. My father doesn't want "trash" like me in his house, so I wasn't able to go home after being forced into the street by a bad relationship. I had to resort to shacking up with my ex husband to have a place to stay when I came back. I made plans to see my mother and took my 12 yr old son (almost 13) with me. He hasn't seen her in years either. (Hmmmm, he only lives an hour away from her. Let's not go see our black sheep daughter's mixed child even though he's our grandchild. He doesn't need to know his grandparents...oh no. Never that. That's asking too much.) Since I'm not able to darken the door of their home with my presence, I met my mother at a Burger King near UNCW so we could sit down and chat while we ate. The very first words out of her mouth after not having seen me in 7 years, were NOT "I love you and I've missed you." The first words I heard were..."Wow, you really need to go on a diet. You're fat."  I won't lie. The urge to slap the taste out of my own mother's mouth, was quite strong. I resisted though. I just shook my head, said "I love you too Mom" and went into the BK. She then proceeded to call my son, who she hasn't seen in forever either, a liar when she asked him a question and he answered her. (It was a question he didn't understand.) He is, after all, only 12 and didn't get her meaning. Yes well, I could care less if the boy was 50 and answered her with a reply she didn't like. You don't EVER talk crazy to one of my children. I don't care who ya are. It was time to call that short visit to a halt at that point.

It's one thing talking to me like I'm stupid all my life when I had no choice but to put up with it. It's another ball of wax altogether to act a fool to MY child, who sure as hell doesn't have to put up with it. I may not be the best mother that ever walked. Hell, I KNOW I'm not. One thing is for certain though. I love my kids, and for NO reason on this earth would I ever talk to them in such a way that makes them feel like they are less than they are. I will never say things to my children that are mean, hateful, and cut to the core of their hearts. I will never subject my children to racism and bigotry.  I've been down those roads myself with MY parents, and it was no cake walk. I would never in a million years put my kids through it. They deserve better. They deserve to be shown love. It's amazing how there are some people on this earth that lack the capacity to give that in it's purest form. It's even more amazing and shocking to me, that some of those people are parents.


I've certainly got my work cut out for me. I've got two sets of parents that have had a hand in shaping who I've become. I think, personally anyway, that I've turned out fairly well despite their opinions of me. I may not be the smartest, richest, or the best kid a parent could have ever asked for, but I am positive that I am a good human being. Somehow, I manage to do the one thing that matters most even with these people for a guide. I learned to accept people just the way they are and love them unconditionally....even the very people who can't give the same consideration to me. I love my parents....they're the only ones I've got. I just can't bring myself to put myself through the hurt they can inflict anymore. I pray one day I'll be able to forgive them for the way they've made me feel. It's been 35 years.....I'm thinking the odds aren't in their favor.