I was abandoned at birth, a twin baby, they kept my brother with them. I went to an Aunt’s home. Aunt Terry.
As an adult all I have done consciously, and unconsciously, is try to adopt: an orphan, Joey; 30 years of high school students, and their parents. Their hurts. Lonely, hurting people I have tired to adopt, with varying degrees of success over the years; I called them ‘Osewalt daughters; Osewalt sons’ and causes- like abandoned animals. It is a lengthy and involved list- I am sure many have such lists. I won’t bore you with mine.
But still, I make promises to hurting, and healthy peoples, spoken and unspoken, that I could not, did not keep. Even, known and unknown to myself I make such promises. Especially, I think, believe, to myself.
All my ‘adoptions’ are I see now were, are, my response to being abandoned. They come, in time, – these adoption attempts – after moments of abandoning: a young wife leaves; a son dies; a daughter chooses silence in my relationship to her ( as a sister confronted, when, as my abandoning parents die ).
Pain; hurts; no sleep or peace.
Yes, one adoption follows, calls up the other. And the other calls to the first. Abandonments and adoptions, adopting and a bonding together. Their order does not matter. They, for me, will always go together.
So I reflect on them. I write, listen, reflect again. Again.
The ‘moments’ shared in this series will be about such reflections, connections. I hope they drop as rain drops.
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