I remember a happy childhood, busy and full of laughter. People coming and going and lots of support. A close-knit family. Things are still like that, I am happy to say.
As far back as I can remember, I have always known that I was adopted. Perhaps in the early days I wasn’t sure what it meant, but the fact that I always knew was important.
It is frightening to hear stories about people finding out at age 18, or from someone else. My parents have always been open and honest with us and have supported any of us who have wished to inquire about birth parents.
Mum and Dad will always be Mum and Dad. No one else could take their place. They were there from the scrape on the knee to the escorting down the aisle. They have shared in every aspect of our lives – giving us support with our own children.
During early schooldays I remember a classmate saying to me, “What’s it like being adopted?” My reply to her was, “What’s it like not being?”
Being a teacher and experiencing different backgrounds, I was intrigued to talk to an intermediate-aged girl about what she planned to do when she grew up. I was dismayed to hear that she was going to have a baby (not marry) because you get a house and you’re paid to stay home. Her older sister was in this same situation.
People who knew the four of us were adopted have passed comments about our family being very close.
I have often wondered if this is because of our common bond, but I have come to the conclusion that it is because of our wonderful “parents” who always put us selflessly before themselves. They supported us in all our efforts, either sporting or academic.
It was also interesting when people over the years said how we looked alike – we would laugh about that later.
I feel we were extremely lucky to have been “chosen” by two such wonderful people, and to have had all that support and love plus more.
I thank the people who made it possible for us to have had this opportunity.