Struggling to live

The struggles I faced as an adopted child

This world is full of challenges and struggles everyday of one’s life. This world does not offer peace but on the contrary. You never know what you will face when you get up in the morning that is if you do get up. Being an adopted child is no different. We face a world of unanswered questions and no answers. What did I do? Why does no one love me? Where do I go from here? When will I be with someone that loves me? In this essay, I hope to shed some light on why this happened to me and what life has been like being an adopted child.

Born into a family of four toward the end of the hottest month of the year is no picnic. The month of August is a turning point for a lot of people. Children are returning to school after Labor Day for most and some have already gone back to school. College students are heading back for the next year classes or for the first time. The month of August is also towards the end of summer which means a new season is fixing to come into bloom. Fall is almost upon us, with the leaves beginning to change colors, nights are getting cooler. Yes, summer is over by the time August ends and September begins. I was born at the end of August. August 28, 1971 to be more precise was when I was born. I was born into a military family. Named after my father who served in the US Army. He was honorably discharged from the army and worked for the city of Marietta Georgia. I have two sisters who were born in 1967 and in 1968. I was an incredibly happy child during those early years of the 1970s. A couple of years later came our baby brother. We were a complete set. Both of my sisters were starting school. One in 1st grade and the other in kindergarten. When our baby brother was born in March of 1973, he was a chubby little thing. For six months we were happy. Then tragedy struck.

In 1973, my parents split up. Tough times were ahead of us. One week with this parent then the next week with the other one. Confusion was setting in along with some sleepless nights. You can imagine the question that might be going through our heads as we pondered on why this was happening. Did our parents not love each other anymore? Nothing prepares a child for this. Your parents are split up, living in separate houses. You wake up in the morning to just one parental face not two. Is this how life is supposed to be? Can life get any worse than this? Yes, it can, and it got a lot worse. Sometime towards the end of October and early November, life for us four children got bad. Parents had split up, first we are at one location with one parent then at a different location with the other parent. Those questions that might have been going through our heads were about to be answered and in a way that we could not have expected.

We four were living with mom at an apartment she was renting. We were a happy bunch. Life wasn’t like it was when we all lived under the same roof, but we made do. Parents splitting up takes a toll on the children. It is ok when one parent leaves for work. That is ok but when one leaves for good, then that can mess a child up. I should know, seeing how I am a divorced dad now with a twelve-year-old son and an eighteen-year-old daughter. Dad came over demanding that it was his time with the children. Mom, not wanting to cause a fuss, began helping him put us into his car. Little did mom know what he was thinking or planning now. When dad pulled away from the apartment complex little did, we know that would be the last time we would see mom for a long time. The weather outside was getting cooler so you can imagine we were all bundled up especially our baby brother who was only seven to eight months old at this time. Dad took us to an orphanage and signed all four of us over to the State of Georgia. I now belong to the state instead of my parents. He left us there crying our eyes out. WHY dad! What did we do? Why don’t you love us anymore? Dad died fifteen days later at a park in Woodstock Georgia. Those questions that might have been racing around our minds come back to the service. Why did he do this? Did he not love us? The anguish of the soul of a child long for their parents, but mine were nowhere to be found. Mom was in a mental hospital cause dad tried to kill her; dad was in the ground. It would be 20 years before I would see my mom or any of my relatives again. Life got better once we were adopted, but you still ponder on those questions that have no real answers. I lived in a foster home for a while until a good Christian couple adopted me along with my younger brother and one of my older sisters sometime in 1975 or ‘seventy-six. Living in foster homes was no picnic. I was a very shy child, keeping to myself. Punished sometimes for things that I did not do. You can only imagine the excitement that one faces when they are reunited with a brother and a sister. Living in the orphanage was all right if you are around siblings but when you are split up and placed into different foster homes, then that hurts. Here come the tears again. I did not see my brother or sister for at least a year or two. My oldest sister was adopted by another family in Marietta, and we stayed in touch with her. Meanwhile life for me, my younger brother, and older sister was beginning to get back to a since of normalcy. .