A Short-lived Retirement

I've received 4 VERY nice emails from regular readers. One of whom has apparantly been "cruising" my blog on a regular basis but chooses not to comment in an open forum. Hi B. I'm much obliged to you for your words of wisdom regarding the lifelong role of the parent and your encouragement that "this too shall pass". It was an unexpected, but pleasant surprise. As awful as it was to leave for a whopping 5 days; (I think you have to be "gone" longer than that for the authorities to list you as officially missing) it was a really good feeling to know, in the midst of my sorrow, that I was going to be missed. Those of you who have written, commented, loved me through a few really tough days; you have my heartfelt thanks.

We have an agreement. Apologies have been made and accepted. Therefore, I happily retract my "retirement". I've learned over the past 8 years of being the parent of adolescents and teenagers that there will be many of those. We will have our disagreements. I will have my moments of being quite sure they are from outer space and they will have their moments of thinking that I am quite possibly, the Wicked Bitch of the West reincarnated. It's not anything that myriads of mothers before me have not experienced, and something mothers to follow will experience as well...often. As hellish as it sometimes can be, I remind myself on a daily basis that I knowingly and willingly took the job and the bottom line is; I love it. I love them. So, though temporarily thrown from grace, I stand back up, brush off, and get back in the saddle. I might not receive, as often as I like, the laurels of appreciation. But I know in some ways; not often spoken, but often implied, that they love me in the manner they know how. I am learning to be grateful for that and to know that for now, it is enough.

Perhaps, with what I've learned about my own past recently, my origins, my birthline, my family, I'm beginning to understand where compassion must play a role. With that comes patience. A patience that I am not always known for. I'm learning about Ohana (family) and it's very deep-rooted ties. I'm learning about the gift of Hanai (adoption) and it's cultural place in Hawaiian society. A process not really known or understood in mainstream America. An ancient custom. If someone in your family has a baby and can't take care of it, the baby is given in love, to be raised by another older, and perhaps wiser member of the family...sometimes, out of the family. There is no paperwork. There are no lawyers. There is no unfulfilled desire for a child. There is no child that is unwanted.

I have said, many times in the past, when asked why I had no desire to find my birth family.."Why should I go looking for them? They obviously didn't want me." Of course, that was my "survival instinct" setting in. That was the way I protected my fragile psyche. I have now come to know that I was not a "throwaway". I was wanted, loved, and missed. I was a gift, given to a friend who could not have a child of her own. A friend who then moved away with her husband and new baby. I was quite surprised as an adult, to see my birth certificate for the first time, and read names that I had never known. I was devastated to find that my adoptive parents never legally adopted me. When I questioned my mom, she simply responded..."You were hanai'ed to us. There was never any danger of losing you. That isn't done. Once you were in our arms, you were ours. That was that." An understanding between Hawaiian friends. It seems so archaic and antiquated. Perhaps even "backwoods" by today's standards. In truth, it was a loving sacrifice.

A loving sacrifice. Ultimately, isn't that what parenting is?