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Love Letters to Anne

by Michael DeMarais 3 months ago in adoption
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An Adoption Story Chapter Twenty Five

Momma of course, introduced me to the family. The family, our family, my family. They all accepted me and this was beyond the beyond. There were some I would never get the chance to meet, through passing before I could get here. But it turns out I bear resemblances to them. We share things. There are commonalities. Our ties are obvious.

This brings a settling I cannot explain to you if you have never known this emptiness of not having it. It haunted me. If I had possessed all the riches of Rome, everything I have seen and touched, without this, it would be empty.

Family is everything. Where it had once come to mean nothing, with you, everything. I love each of them. I’m even close with a few of them. Can you imagine how that feels? Where I had learned and expected hostility and ambivalence, was now turned to love and acceptance. I finally fit someplace; this was my place to strengthen and recharge. This was a place to prepare for the Next. The Next was something I was trying to plan for, but as long as they would be in those plans, I would be fine.

I think of the times I was couch surfing with friends, and times when I didn’t even have that. Times I stole food to survive. The real lean times, the ones that tested me. Thinking of those times because momma says they’re gone now. It wasn’t always easy…in fact, sometimes it was extremely hard. But now, those days are the past. I had survived these times long ago, but I remember them closely. And momma was instinctively circling around me to protect as she heard the horrors I would share with her. Vowing I would never deal with such hard times again. Mortified that I faced these times mostly alone. Those days are gone. I have a family now.

I used to walk amongst the ruins and tombs of the men of history. I was like them, just passing through. Paying attention to events as they unfolded and taking note of history. Anything could be endured, I reasoned. As I bear this weight, there was nothing else that could be taken from me but my life. And when one day I would fall and then sleep forever, I would find peace from this dreadful longing. The homesickness that never went away, lost in the anonymity of the catacombs. I will say this though: My mysterious beginnings gave me a sense that everyone was family in a general way if not a personal way.

History spoke to me as a witness of the events around me…the Cold War, The Berlin Wall, Soviet threats, the Red Menace…the world was full of danger, hostages, assassins and kidnappers. The history of the last two thousand years spread before me while most children were learning their smurfs, I was switching between ancient Sparta, Rome, Egypt and Persia. The history of the world was something that fascinated me.

I was fascinated because it occurred to me there was nothing new under the sun. Surely, there was a story like mine I could learn from…unfortunately, there wasn’t one that I could find. Nothing to emulate. I stood in the middle of the road in Pompeii wondering in amazement at the life that was here and then suddenly was extinguished. Then I thought of all the people through history we never heard about. They just disappear into the times to be covered by the sands of eons.

This was me, anonymous and unremarkable to be forgotten by history. The mysteries of my life left hidden. A pointless life running its course. But this was not to be…my mysteries would be solved. And no matter how history looked at me, if it indeed would, I would be content now that I had found my family, I have reached a Nirvana, a peace now.

My destiny had been fulfilled. Or had it?


About the author

Michael DeMarais

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