What wasn't

Have you seen the movie Sliding Doors?  I saw it many years ago.  I was fascinated.  The idea of the movie is how different (and yet possibly the same) our lives would be if just one thing changed.  It follows a woman through 2 scenarios -- one if she makes her train and one if she doesn't.  How that simple act changes the course of her life.  Fascinating.

I think we all of those thoughts at some point.  What if my parents had let me go to my first choice of colleges -- instead of having to going to my second choice.  What if I had stuck it out when I moved to Phoenix.  What if I hadn't gotten this job.  Or any of the jobs before.  What if I hadn't moved here.  What if I had picked a different agency.  What if...

Should have.  Would have.  Could have.

Most times it is easy to think and forget.  My life is what it is suppose to be.  For the most part. And I can't imagine it any other way.

But there is always that little smack in the face every once in a while.  I had one today.  And it is always around the same topic.  Maybe because this "could have" moment I had no control over.  Somehow I think it is a moment that in some form every adoptee has.  And now it makes me wonder who Ladybug will process it later in life.

Today I was cruising through my facebook page when a newly uploaded picture caught my eye.  I clicked on it.  And luckily it was not some scam or spam or virus.  It was a smack in the face though.  It was my brother.  One of my biological brothers.  He is a facebook friend so this shouldn't be a smack in the face.

But let me back up...

The first time I met this brother was his first Christmas.  He was about 3 weeks old.  The rest of my siblings and I had already been removed from my biological family.  We were all in foster care.  But my youngest brother had not yet been born.  That Christmas we all met at my biological grandparent's house for the day.  My biological mother brought my brother.  I remember holding him.  I had just turned 6 years old.  And then it was over. 

The second time I met this brother he was about 20 years later.  After searching and writing letters to every person in his state with his last name (this was pre-internet times) I finally connected with him.  We met...we bowled...we had dinner...and then we didn't see each other again.  Really.  Strange, I know.  We were both young.  We didn't live near each other.  And we don't have much in common.  It was a good meeting.  But we still lost touch again.

About a year ago I found him on facebook.  And we became "friends".  We don't really talk.  He doesn't really update his account much.  But once in a while he posts something -- and I get a peek at his life.  Today his brother (his adopted brother -- who is also adopted) posted pictures of him and tagged him.  So I got to see the pictures.  We still have nothing in common.  But there staring at me on my computer screen was a man that I am connected to.  What if ...

If we were walking down the street together nobody in their right mind would question that we are related.  We look so much alike.  We have the same skin.  We have the same eyes.  We have the same smile.  Luckily he has more facial hair than me.  But we do not have the same interests.  We do not have the same politics.  We do not have the same goals.  We do not have the same history.  My brother.  But not my brother. 

What if... 

I lost 5 of my 6 siblings through adoption.  I gained 2 siblings through adoption.  And today I am painfully aware it is a relationship that I can not get back.  Ever.  It changed my life.  In ways I will never fully understand.  And I mourn it.  The unknown.

Mean Mama