Searching for You
“I don’t care how poor a man is; if he has family, he’s rich. Dan Wilcox and Thad Mumford, “Identity Crisis,” M*A*S*H
I may not know much but I know this. Knowing ones family, whether they are generous, compassionate and loving or barren of support and as suffocating as a kudzu plant, grows us.
Knowing where we come from shows us who we are, for better or worse.
For forty years, Suzanne was motherless. Her mother disappeared from her life when she was very young. Some said five; it was actually six. The only memory she had of her mother was her sudden absence. She remembered feeling confused, the darkness in a court hallway and then an even sadder introduction to her new home. She recalled staring for hours out of a window, always looking for her mother — who never came.
Suzanne was forbidden to mention her mother. Once, an elderly relative gave her a small photo of her mother. She kept it under her pillow. One night, her father came into her room, took it, and shredded it as she cried and begged him not to do so.
In Washington, DC, many years later, Suzanne discovered the Library of Congress’ almost limitless source of documents. She began to spend her Saturdays in the stacks there. She gathered three supporters. Janie, a young librarian who had once searched for her own mother was one. “I found her too late; she was in her grave,” Janie said. Two young male skip tracers helped Suzanne learn how to use LOC documents to find missing persons.
Yes, Suzanne found her mother. Suzanne and her mom were reunited and spent several years together before her mother died. It was a bittersweet reunion; she was once again silenced. Her mother would answer no questions; she refused to talk about the past. She seemed resentful of her daughter’s successes. Suzanne’s mom told many not so white lies. After years of yearning for her mother, she confessed to her best friend. “Annie, I know this sounds weird but I don’t like her very much. “
“But knowing her taught me the most surprising thing about me. All those years, I had not been yearning for a mother; I had been yearning for mothering.” We all need to know our roots; it helps us know ourselves. That alone can help us move on.
Meditation for the Day
Knowing me is the best gift of all.
Acton for the Day
When necessary, I will ask the questions. I will double check answers. And I will use what I learn that can help me grow . . . and let the rest drift away.
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