It’s coming up to that time of year again; September 19th. It is kinda hard to tell lately but usually I go into a bit of a depressed, teary state the closer Sept 19th gets. It has always been the time of year that I make big changes; like my own new years. For years if I was going to break up with someone, move, change jobs; I did it some time near the end of September.
He’ll be turning 37; far from a little boy, he probably has kids of his own. I pray he isn’t like his biological father, I hope he has a tender heart and is a good person. I really hope his parents loved him and he knows he is loved. I wonder if he looks anything like me and if I would recognize him.
I had a very strange thing happen about a month ago. As we all do from time to time, I checked how many followers I have and then checked who they were. I was scrolling down the list and 6 months ago a Jason Alan started following my blog. I would have picked up on that name immediately had I seen it when he signed up but he didn’t use that name when he signed up to follow me; he used something like ” the madpoet” and I remember seeing that name.
Anyway, of course I was very curious so I checked out his blog ” Jasonalanwriter” . His profile didn’t hold any revealing info so I started to read one of his posts. In the post he was talking about being in grade 3 in 1985. I thought; ok a person is 6 when they start grade 1, his birthday is in September so he would have either started school at the age of 5 or if he started at age 6 he would have turned 7 in grade 1 and been 10 in grade 3. Now I had to find out more so I Googled his name and found his FB where he has his birthday listed. I was September 1975 but not the 19th (I believe it was the 12th, to be honest once I saw it wasn’t the 19th any other date really was of no consequence) and it said he was born and raised in Texas.
I was told that the people who adopted my Jason were university teachers in Vancouver. I suppose they could have moved to Texas but of course my Jason was born in Chilliwack. They had said they were going to tell him he was adopted and they had liked his name and were going to keep it. They were also going to send pictures and didn’t, so who knows. That many years ago a girl didn’t have much say in what happened to her baby.
I have one well worn piece of paper where I signed him over to child services and a card from one of the nuns from a home for unwed mothers packed away in storage and that is all I have as far as a keepsakes of his birth.
It certainly got my heart racing though. It got me thinking too; what if it had been him? There was a time I would have been proud to say “I am your birth mother”, but right now, for him to meet me would be hard. For him and me. When Kris and I lived at the lake I envisioned us meeting, or when I had the house in Chilliwack, but since I met James there were few times I was comfortable with where we lived.
I was proud of where I was at in 2008, before I went back to James. I could have sat down with my stranger son and discussed my life and it would have been believable and I think would have shown his momma was a fighter, but you know; to explain how I got where I am right now sounds unbelievable to my own ears. I can only imagine how it would sound to him.
When James told me about meeting his birth mom he talked about how his grandma, aunt and mom had always looked for him; how welcome he felt; what a great experience it was. There would be only Kris and I.
When I gave him up for adoption everyone closed the book, except me.
When Kris was wee, long before I told him about Jason; he used to ask me where his brother was. I remember when he was about 4 he had asked where his brother was and I had said he didn’t have one and he got angry and said he most certainly did.
I think alot of people are psychic and as we get older we block it out. Kris often said things that “didn’t make sense at the time” like one time he asked me what happened to the white car. I asked what white car.
Kris – The white car we had before the red car.
Me – what red car?
Kris getting just as exasperated as me – You know!, the we had s white car and then we had a red car; what happened to the white car, I liked it better.
Me – Kris we have never had a white car or a red car. Is this a story?
Kris – forget it mom.
We had a burgundy Reliant K car at the time; the same one Victor bought just before his accident. About 6 months after Kris and my conversation about white cars and red cars the Reliant died and I bought a new car – a white Nissan Sentra. I loved that car! It was a 1988 SE and fully loaded, it was a new car with only 80 km on it but I bought it at the end of 1988 so I got a really good deal on it.
I had just picked Kris up from daycare about 2 months after we got it and we were T-boned at an intersection and the car was totalled. Luckily I had gotten replacement insurance so ICBC had to find me one exactly like it. There wasn’t another one in all of Canada so they ended up getting me a Red 1989 Nissan Sentra. Kris unwittingly had predicted the future.
So when he asked about a brother I knew he “felt” his brother’s existence. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about Jason until he was old enough to understand the circumstances and that I wouldn’t “give him away” too. I think he was about 8 or 9 when I told him and he hadn’t been surprised at all and just said, “I KNEW it, I told you!”
I hope he has had a good life, I have a feeling he did; certainly better than the life I would have been able to provide at that age. I remember the day he was born as clearly as if it was yesterday.
Where did the time go? So much has happened since then yet when I think its been 37 years its hard to believe.