Adopting Others

Throughout my life there have been adults that I have considered "adoptive parents" without ever having been adopted. Heck, I even adopted a sister as an only child.  We are family by choice. I think that stems from all of those who unknowingly adopted me over the years.

I grew up in a home with my biological mom and dad, but during a time when other adults oftentimes had profound impacts on my day to day. You knew your friend's parents. You knew all of the adult neighbors.  You even knew many of the adults in town.

Specifically, I remember....

There were the parents of the two sisters up the street who befriended me in elementary school.  While I never outright called them mom or dad, I learned so much from them and being a family. I attended church with them, a required outcome of wanting to spend Saturday nights over.  I envied how involved in their home their dad was being home daily by a reasonable hour as mine worked long hard hours were we only had Sundays, sometimes.  He often cooked dinners and was a master at teaching us to create my favorite food while hanging out with them- single serving pizzas made from biscuit dough.

There mom was involved too.  She was our scout leader from brownies up and had amazing traditions like her Christmas cookie swap that she would do with others- I think family- where the entire kitchen would be filled with amazing varieties of holiday sweetness that would could sometimes sample.  Together, they humored us in watching our skits and making hot chocolate after sledding down their back hill. And they were stern in making sure we did not get out of line.  You never really had to guess what they expected because they were very clear when you were on track or got out of line.  In their home, I mostly felt I belonged even though I was often a fish out of water in their traditions and routines.

In high school, I had several adoptive parents.  The first adoptive mom was that of my best friend.  She not only routed for us and provided great advice but she even offered me a place to live to finish out my schooling once my parents decided to move far away.  While that did not go over well, I would have happily moved in because she treated me no different than her very own, biological child. I was loved, guided, and discipline as if I was hers.

After moving, I was once again blessed with Mom D and both Momma and Dad O.  Talk about pretty awesome parents to have accept me as part of their lives! It was a rough time and I needed all of the extra parents I could get. Thank God I found some who were willing to oblige. 

Mom D was a single mom raising her youngest after years of experience with teens- she had already raised two along with a slew of their friends.  I was in her home on the regular and could talk to her about anything.  Nothing was out of bounds and I swear she was never shocked or at a loss for words. Her calm and even humorous reflections never made me feel unwanted or stupid. At her kitchen table, I always felt heard and understood, even if she did not agree with what I was dishing out.  There was a simple way about her that helped you see the error of your ways without shoving it in your face. She didn't toss out the harsh doubts and judgements that might come from some adults.  And there was confidence in trust. She was my second mom and I could count on her during some of the roughest moments of my youth. 

Momma and Dad O?  Amazing!  Totally different than my parents or any other parents I had ever known.  They had a crew and definite opinions on what kids should and should not do.  Yet again, in their tongue-and-cheek way, you were accepted and directed without feeling like an outsider or that you were just some stupid kid. Neither ever held back their opinions, but the manner in which they managed their responses was identical to how they parented their own children. It helped you to know that it was ok for you to belong too.  You were going to get the same responses, looks, and laughs as if you were their own. And as a bonus, I learned to make the best eggplant parm ever thanks to Momma O.

These amazing adoptive parents, and others, are part of what has helped mold me into the person I am today.  They helped me battle my inner demons.  They helped me lean in on God. And they helped me find my way, keeping me mostly on track when I was hell bent on crashing and burning.

This might be why I too welcomed the friends of my children into our home with the love and acceptance of a parent.  I treated them and expected of them that which I did of my own boys.  I never hesitated to feed them, even house some, and help them advocate for themselves. And while my heart still breaks for my one "adopted son" who we lost along the way, I have hope that for over a decade of his short life, he felt like he had a place he belonged without judgement, even if I did not always agree with his outlook.

Looking back, I could have easily gotten lost on my way even with each of the great "adoptive" parents that came into my life.  Somehow in some way maybe I was just lucky that my road did not stop short like the son we lost. And maybe, somehow, I need to focus more on the time he was with us and the other adoptive kids that rolled through our home that are still on their journey rather than what we all may have missed or did not do to perpetuate his road forward.

I guess loss is just hard.  I have lost all of my adoptive parents in one way or another.  Lost my biological dad.  Lost many others along the way. 

I have gained so much from all who have adopted me and that I in turn adopted too.  I have gained from those that are lost and from those that are here. I just need to remind myself to focus on what is gained from all, and who is here now, before I too am the one that is lost. I need to bide my time until the opportunity arises once again to adopt or be adopted- to find more chosen family to share the journey I am on.  And in the end, hopefully we are all much better off having allowed others to feel the effect of us electing to be in their lives.

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