“You’re so lucky, Michelle. And that’s not the booze talking. That’s me talking.”
My Aunt Xondra was laying in bed at her 50th birthday party, recovering from one too many tequila shots and I was just hanging out with her.
I know I’m one lucky lady.
I have TWO sets of parents.
And THREE sets of siblings.
In my life I’ve been blessed with lots of family.
Xondra, who is quite possibly the sweetest drunk woman I’ve ever known, was just pointing this out to me.
When I tell people I’m a reunited adoptee, usually they ask how my adoptive parents feel about that.
My response is always, “It was hard in the beginning. But having more people who love you is never a bad thing.”
I see my birth mother about 4 – 6 times a year, but my birth father much less.
If you ask me why I’ll say it’s because he doesn’t seem to take an interest in me.
But this weekend, I got another picture of the three of us and came across a mug in his stash with my name on it along with my brothers’ names.
It was a small thing but felt SO big to me.
It’s as if that mug legitimized me.
And he had pictures of me and my boys around the house.
Like we matter to him and his wife, even though we don’t see each other.
And. . .
He kissed the top of my head when he said goodnight to me.
It was a very fatherly gesture and I got a little choked up.
Maybe, just maybe, he does care.