Post by Nevadanut on Dec 26, 2017 17:36:44 GMT -8
In the past year-plus since I wrote My Story on this blog, there have been a couple of major updates in that story. There are basically two parts. Of both, I feel passionate.
As the reader may recall, my road to where I am, and whom I wish to be, to be had many bumps as well as many inspirational moments. I call the latter “life-changing” moments. From the angry, lashing-out, immature little girl I was, to stopping on the sidewalk after hearing the angelic music coming from inside a church. From listening to that music to being invited in and learning to play violin. From being lost to going to college. From college to meeting my best friend. From college to moving to an completely new area. From a job and a car, and a place to live and start my adult life, to beginning to define the person named Heidi.
That is the very brief summary of my life. Way too brief of a recap, but you get the idea.
The kindness of Jessi and her family, and the love and friendship I have received in the past couple of years (and as Jessi's roommate for three years of college), has been tremendous. I have been truly blessed. There is no one in this world who has a bigger heart than Jessi. I just want to state that here. Like me, she is emotional and wants to do things the correct way. We are very alike.
Reverting to my past entry, my birth mother was arrested on a third strike in 1997. I was alone in foster care. Angry younger years followed. Then, things turned around.
This is my account of what has happened since I wrote that blog a year ago.
As mentioned in my earlier blog, and above here, my birth mother was incarcerated for 20 years. She was due to get out in late July. I had kept up on and been informed of that.
I received a surprise notification on April 20 that she was being transferred to the county jail for release a few months early. She was to be released from the county jail, where she had been transferred. Within a day, Jessi and I were headed south. We stayed outside of San Francisco at her oldest brother's, passed through our alma mater Cal, and headed to Sparks, Nevada. My home town. Jessi had never been there.
I have no measure of how nervous I was. I did not want to meet this woman again. It's probably irrational, but I've have never wanted to be a part of her life. I am a curious person. However, I had not planned on visiting, and why should I now? On the other hand, again I was curious.
Jessi and I arrived mid afternoon on the day before this woman was to be released from her incarceration three months early. Jessi and I had driven to Sparks and talked a lot, about nearly everything. We barely talked of the reason we were making the trip. As I said, I never wanted to meet her again. I have very vague memories. These are some very, very vague memories. I was thinking about those. I was trying to think of everything. I am pretty much a free spirit who loves and adores having the friends I have now. That is an important thing for you to keep in mind while you read the words you are about to see. What happened next was something I had hoped, but was unsure I could ever do.
We got the front of the jail at about a half hour before the release time which I had been given. There was another car a few parking spaces away. Jessi asked me what I would say to her. Truthfully, I told her I had no clue. I tightened when I saw her come out of the doors. I felt like a child. She looked young. I did not expect that. As I write several months later, I am amazed that I actually recognized her. I'd not seen her in over 20 years, but she still resembled someone I'd known long ago.
I took a couple steps forward, folded my arms and looked into her eyes, which probably only told her it was me. The woman from the halfway house in which she was to say came to her side. The woman I'd not seen in nearly 20 years looked at me and seemed confused and happy at the same time. I quickly dispelled both. I told her to never contact me, don't learn of me on the internet, don't make any effort to find out about me. I said if there was to be any contact one day, I would be the one to initiate it; that I would make any first move.
I told her I wished her to be well and she kind of smiled. The lady from the halfway house took her away. She looked at me as she got into that woman's car and nodded to me as if she understood what I meant. I am confident that she did, but I can't say whether she was feeling sadness, relief or some other emotion.
Hate is an energy I cannot afford. The building of my life is based on positiveness and goofiness. It is not based on dwelling on every little mistake. Learn, move on and accept. With her, it will never be that easy. The moment I stood up to my birth mother was the moment my adulthood was defined. I'm going to leave it at that as I start the second part of this entry.
Rather than dwelling on the past, I've decided to focus on the future. Not just my own future, but the future of those in the position I was in while growing up. Some of you may have noticed I have been relatively quiet on at times. I recently sought out a couple of separate organizations near my new home. There were two ideas. The first was to talk to children who are in the same position I was. The second was to be able to talk with those who may be interested in adopting one of these children.
It's been thoroughly enjoyable talking to the children. I recognize every single emotion they are feeling when they answer questions about their situation. There are long faces, there are tears and there are feelings of hopelessness. Not a single one of them have a significant amount of optimism. Most feel that they are just going through the motions leading up to more of the unknown. They are acutely aware of the situation in which they find themselves.
They come from countless backgrounds. Some were given up for adoption at birth and others were put up for adoption when they were young because a parent could not afford to keep them. Then, there are others. These are the ones who are in foster care because, like me, they have become wards of the state. Unsurprisingly, these are the ones with whom I identify the most.
My message to the latter group, and to the others, is: None of this is your fault in the least. They are not responsible for this situation. It's not on them at all. In every case, and I mean every case, the reason each and every one of these cases is that a parent (or parents, plural), screwed up. Even the teenage girl who gave them up did so because she had to give them up. It is my understanding that there most often there is regret later on. Despite that, some damage has been done. Damage To these children.
As much as I recognize some despair, I see a light in their eyes; sometimes dim and sometimes brighter. One girl had come home with a note from her teacher on piece of school work reading “Great Job!” She was so proud of it that it drew a tear from my eye when she told be about it. Her feeling of pride in having that two-word message to her was endearing. When kids are put together in a foster home, there becomes a feeling of camaraderie. They all know that they are in this together. Unfortunately, there is much movement in the foster care system that consistency is a rarity. It is very easy to lose track of those who've moved on.
Late during the summer, I was fortunate enough to provide some smiles to the children at one of the foster homes when I left work and brought them ice cream. Rocky Road is always a hit, and I wanted to see those smiles. It validated my commitment of communicating with these kids. One four-year-old by even told me he loved me. It's little things like this which make them know that someone cares about them; that someone is thinking about them. Seeing those smiles means the world to me. I continue to speak with many of these kids on a very regular basis.
I've also met with nearly a dozen prospective sets of adoptive parents. I tell them my story. I tell them of the hopes and dreams of children who don't have a real a real home and, in many cases, don't think it will ever happen. I tell them what can happen if these children find love. I tell them of the love they can feel when they welcome a child into their home. Basically, I tell them how I would have felt had I ever been adopted. I am received with wide eyes. In many ways, I feel I am becoming a salesperson. That's not what I want. I don't want to “sell” parents on a life-changing decision. I want to prepare them of the good and the bad.
Many adoptive parents want babies rather then children. Don't forget, some children in these foster homes are in their teens. I was in that position. I understand it. Some babies put up for adoption are largely welcomed into a home shortly after birth. I'm not writing of private adoptions. Those are something different altogether. Parents who will adopt a child in a foster care are ones which wish to open their home, and their love, to someone. I am in full support. It is a win-win situation for both sides. It provides the child with a real chance at a future, while it provides the parents with a chance to become or complete a family.
This is my goal. I wish to turn the situation from my childhood into something which may help others. This is the underlying motivation in my heart. I do not speak of these things as accolades, but as of my desire to improve lives. I am motivated to make someone's life better. Truthfully, if I affect just one life, then the time and effort will be absolutely worth it.
I remain purposeful in my music ventures. Jessi and I constantly are working on composing and playing music. We each work on our own, and work together. These are my favorite times. I feel most free and most productive when I am drawing on my heart and my hopes to inspire me in my music. I have become inspired by several children with whom I am conversing. I am looking at the trepidation and strength I felt when I met that woman I'd barely known. I think that motivates me more than anything.
The pinnacle of this was in November, right before Thanksgiving. A same-sex couple, women, had decided to adopt a three-year-old boy name Neil. I remember speaking with him. He was wide-eyed. Always! He giggles a lot, even at my bad jokes. I was not there to see him join his new family, but I am confident that he will now have the possibility of a future.
I believe all of them have that. See, my fear is that while these kids will grow up and end up being on their own, they will have a difficult time finding their future. I mean, my fear is that they will not have a chance to avoid drugs, crime and other negative opportunities of our society. As you, the reader, can imagine, that is the danger facing these kids. A family structure can help that. No, not automatically, but I believe it is a major factor in helping some children find a home and a future.
As I mentioned, Jessi and I are creating music. Some of it is terrific. Some is terrible! But, through that, I have continued to perfect my skills and record some things on the violin. As a matter of fact, I have purchased two new violins since then. This instrument is amazingly symbolic to me. I love writing for and playing it.
I want to share a couple more selections, via my Spreaker account. Those links appear below.
Anticipation
Wonder
I am in a terrific place in my life. I love my life. But the most important thing is that I want to make a difference in others' lives. I am not here just for me. I feel my purpose in this world is to make lives happier and provide some smiles when I can. I am happy. I am having fun.
My thanks to everyone along the way who has helped make be feel that way. I continue the opportunity to help others and to improve myself.
Thank you,
- Heidi
This is the periodic blog of According to Heidi on SCtoC. She is the Assistant Head Coach on this site and a recent college graduate with a B.A. in Music and a Minor in English. She now lives and works in Portland, Oregon.
To comment on this thread and others on this forum, please login or register.
As the reader may recall, my road to where I am, and whom I wish to be, to be had many bumps as well as many inspirational moments. I call the latter “life-changing” moments. From the angry, lashing-out, immature little girl I was, to stopping on the sidewalk after hearing the angelic music coming from inside a church. From listening to that music to being invited in and learning to play violin. From being lost to going to college. From college to meeting my best friend. From college to moving to an completely new area. From a job and a car, and a place to live and start my adult life, to beginning to define the person named Heidi.
That is the very brief summary of my life. Way too brief of a recap, but you get the idea.
The kindness of Jessi and her family, and the love and friendship I have received in the past couple of years (and as Jessi's roommate for three years of college), has been tremendous. I have been truly blessed. There is no one in this world who has a bigger heart than Jessi. I just want to state that here. Like me, she is emotional and wants to do things the correct way. We are very alike.
Reverting to my past entry, my birth mother was arrested on a third strike in 1997. I was alone in foster care. Angry younger years followed. Then, things turned around.
This is my account of what has happened since I wrote that blog a year ago.
As mentioned in my earlier blog, and above here, my birth mother was incarcerated for 20 years. She was due to get out in late July. I had kept up on and been informed of that.
I received a surprise notification on April 20 that she was being transferred to the county jail for release a few months early. She was to be released from the county jail, where she had been transferred. Within a day, Jessi and I were headed south. We stayed outside of San Francisco at her oldest brother's, passed through our alma mater Cal, and headed to Sparks, Nevada. My home town. Jessi had never been there.
I have no measure of how nervous I was. I did not want to meet this woman again. It's probably irrational, but I've have never wanted to be a part of her life. I am a curious person. However, I had not planned on visiting, and why should I now? On the other hand, again I was curious.
Jessi and I arrived mid afternoon on the day before this woman was to be released from her incarceration three months early. Jessi and I had driven to Sparks and talked a lot, about nearly everything. We barely talked of the reason we were making the trip. As I said, I never wanted to meet her again. I have very vague memories. These are some very, very vague memories. I was thinking about those. I was trying to think of everything. I am pretty much a free spirit who loves and adores having the friends I have now. That is an important thing for you to keep in mind while you read the words you are about to see. What happened next was something I had hoped, but was unsure I could ever do.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"I am pretty much a free spirit who loves and
adores having the friends I have now."
----------------------------------------------------------------
We got the front of the jail at about a half hour before the release time which I had been given. There was another car a few parking spaces away. Jessi asked me what I would say to her. Truthfully, I told her I had no clue. I tightened when I saw her come out of the doors. I felt like a child. She looked young. I did not expect that. As I write several months later, I am amazed that I actually recognized her. I'd not seen her in over 20 years, but she still resembled someone I'd known long ago.
I took a couple steps forward, folded my arms and looked into her eyes, which probably only told her it was me. The woman from the halfway house in which she was to say came to her side. The woman I'd not seen in nearly 20 years looked at me and seemed confused and happy at the same time. I quickly dispelled both. I told her to never contact me, don't learn of me on the internet, don't make any effort to find out about me. I said if there was to be any contact one day, I would be the one to initiate it; that I would make any first move.
I told her I wished her to be well and she kind of smiled. The lady from the halfway house took her away. She looked at me as she got into that woman's car and nodded to me as if she understood what I meant. I am confident that she did, but I can't say whether she was feeling sadness, relief or some other emotion.
Hate is an energy I cannot afford. The building of my life is based on positiveness and goofiness. It is not based on dwelling on every little mistake. Learn, move on and accept. With her, it will never be that easy. The moment I stood up to my birth mother was the moment my adulthood was defined. I'm going to leave it at that as I start the second part of this entry.
Rather than dwelling on the past, I've decided to focus on the future. Not just my own future, but the future of those in the position I was in while growing up. Some of you may have noticed I have been relatively quiet on at times. I recently sought out a couple of separate organizations near my new home. There were two ideas. The first was to talk to children who are in the same position I was. The second was to be able to talk with those who may be interested in adopting one of these children.
It's been thoroughly enjoyable talking to the children. I recognize every single emotion they are feeling when they answer questions about their situation. There are long faces, there are tears and there are feelings of hopelessness. Not a single one of them have a significant amount of optimism. Most feel that they are just going through the motions leading up to more of the unknown. They are acutely aware of the situation in which they find themselves.
They come from countless backgrounds. Some were given up for adoption at birth and others were put up for adoption when they were young because a parent could not afford to keep them. Then, there are others. These are the ones who are in foster care because, like me, they have become wards of the state. Unsurprisingly, these are the ones with whom I identify the most.
My message to the latter group, and to the others, is: None of this is your fault in the least. They are not responsible for this situation. It's not on them at all. In every case, and I mean every case, the reason each and every one of these cases is that a parent (or parents, plural), screwed up. Even the teenage girl who gave them up did so because she had to give them up. It is my understanding that there most often there is regret later on. Despite that, some damage has been done. Damage To these children.
As much as I recognize some despair, I see a light in their eyes; sometimes dim and sometimes brighter. One girl had come home with a note from her teacher on piece of school work reading “Great Job!” She was so proud of it that it drew a tear from my eye when she told be about it. Her feeling of pride in having that two-word message to her was endearing. When kids are put together in a foster home, there becomes a feeling of camaraderie. They all know that they are in this together. Unfortunately, there is much movement in the foster care system that consistency is a rarity. It is very easy to lose track of those who've moved on.
Late during the summer, I was fortunate enough to provide some smiles to the children at one of the foster homes when I left work and brought them ice cream. Rocky Road is always a hit, and I wanted to see those smiles. It validated my commitment of communicating with these kids. One four-year-old by even told me he loved me. It's little things like this which make them know that someone cares about them; that someone is thinking about them. Seeing those smiles means the world to me. I continue to speak with many of these kids on a very regular basis.
I've also met with nearly a dozen prospective sets of adoptive parents. I tell them my story. I tell them of the hopes and dreams of children who don't have a real a real home and, in many cases, don't think it will ever happen. I tell them what can happen if these children find love. I tell them of the love they can feel when they welcome a child into their home. Basically, I tell them how I would have felt had I ever been adopted. I am received with wide eyes. In many ways, I feel I am becoming a salesperson. That's not what I want. I don't want to “sell” parents on a life-changing decision. I want to prepare them of the good and the bad.
Many adoptive parents want babies rather then children. Don't forget, some children in these foster homes are in their teens. I was in that position. I understand it. Some babies put up for adoption are largely welcomed into a home shortly after birth. I'm not writing of private adoptions. Those are something different altogether. Parents who will adopt a child in a foster care are ones which wish to open their home, and their love, to someone. I am in full support. It is a win-win situation for both sides. It provides the child with a real chance at a future, while it provides the parents with a chance to become or complete a family.
This is my goal. I wish to turn the situation from my childhood into something which may help others. This is the underlying motivation in my heart. I do not speak of these things as accolades, but as of my desire to improve lives. I am motivated to make someone's life better. Truthfully, if I affect just one life, then the time and effort will be absolutely worth it.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"I wish to turn the situation from my childhood into
something which may help others. This is the
underlying motivation in my heart."
----------------------------------------------------------------
The pinnacle of this was in November, right before Thanksgiving. A same-sex couple, women, had decided to adopt a three-year-old boy name Neil. I remember speaking with him. He was wide-eyed. Always! He giggles a lot, even at my bad jokes. I was not there to see him join his new family, but I am confident that he will now have the possibility of a future.
I believe all of them have that. See, my fear is that while these kids will grow up and end up being on their own, they will have a difficult time finding their future. I mean, my fear is that they will not have a chance to avoid drugs, crime and other negative opportunities of our society. As you, the reader, can imagine, that is the danger facing these kids. A family structure can help that. No, not automatically, but I believe it is a major factor in helping some children find a home and a future.
As I mentioned, Jessi and I are creating music. Some of it is terrific. Some is terrible! But, through that, I have continued to perfect my skills and record some things on the violin. As a matter of fact, I have purchased two new violins since then. This instrument is amazingly symbolic to me. I love writing for and playing it.
I want to share a couple more selections, via my Spreaker account. Those links appear below.
Anticipation
Wonder
I am in a terrific place in my life. I love my life. But the most important thing is that I want to make a difference in others' lives. I am not here just for me. I feel my purpose in this world is to make lives happier and provide some smiles when I can. I am happy. I am having fun.
My thanks to everyone along the way who has helped make be feel that way. I continue the opportunity to help others and to improve myself.
Thank you,
- Heidi
______________________________________________________________
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Graphic courtesy of David.
