My mom is currently away in a far away land. And while I can say that having the house a bit messy pleases me, I do miss her. You see, our relationship is not like others but then again if you tried to compare your relationship with others I would hope that it would be different too. Possibly brought together by chance and a tiny bit of urgency, we created this mom-daughter bond that brings out the worst and the best in us at the exact same time. But, I am clearly not her, she is not me. Nature vs. nurture tendencies kicked in pretty quickly around here. A while ago, when I was about ten or eleven years old I remember looking up at the moon in broad daylight and thinking that it is nighttime in Thailand, I wonder if my birth mother is looking up at this same moon? That is all we may have in common for now. Mentioning it in passing to my mommy she looked at me with slight awe. She had thought the same thing when she was waiting for me to come home, to be her daughter. Is there something that my birth-mom looks at that makes her remember me, or has she chosen to forget? I do not mind either way, but I guess having this time to myself I get to imagine so many things about how life could have been.
I can recall all of the times when I saw a Thai person, or at least someone who resembled a Thai person and wondered if they could be related to me. I was a preteen and although the chances were pretty slim I still had this idea that it could be possible. Whenever my mother and I were in a rut and she would exclaim, “This is what all families do”, sometimes I begged to differ. I looked around and saw the people I was interacting with and wondered how could this be what all families do? Just in those same moments I would think, what would my life be like in this exact same situation but with a different mother? The idea that my life could have turned out differently intrigues me. If I had not been adopted and stayed in Thailand with my birth family who would I have become? Certainly not a paddler most likely, probably not a coach and would I be bad at math? Or would I be that stereotypical Asian kid who got all A’s and studied day in and day out without question. Would I have gotten grounded for receiving poor marks, or would I have gotten a motivational speech, like I get around here? How would my family have handled fights or disagreements? If there were siblings involved, how well would my birth parents know me? Would I have just been another kid to them, or would I have been their everything, like I am around here? It is just as easy to imagine my life with a different set of adoptive parents, what if I grew up in Scotland or the maritime’s or somewhere that was not here? I can imagine so many scenarios and so many opportunities that I take for granted and I sometimes forget that it could have all been different and I would not have known otherwise.
At the end of the day I do not mind if my birth mother chose to forget. I can choose to think that giving me up was a hard choice and it probably came with a lot of heartbreak. We are human, and why would we want to hold on to something that has so many unknowns tied to it when we could just face forward to the future? Just like I think about how my life could have been, does she think the same if she chooses to remember? Would we have gotten along better because our personalities may have been more similar? Would we have written stories together or enjoyed blasting bad music and dancing insanely? Would we talk things out when times were difficult, or would we be both stubborn and choose to both be right, even if we were both obviously wrong? How much of what makes me who I am can I attribute to her? And to him, I suppose. 🙂
Some days I would like to receive an email that says that there is information about where I came from and who I came from, and then there are some days where I am perfectly content with my life and I do not need an explanation. I have compared the cleanliness level of our house to that of an operation table, where everything must be spotless and the slightest disarray is a sign of impending doom. The point is, MY mom is away. The house is slightly messy and there are random objects all over the dining room table, and had my mom been here there would have been a rut about the mess. So, do I look up at the moon and hope that my birth mother is looking back? Or do I simply clean it up? Because after all, after eighteen years I live a life that I am proud of, and I love my mom.
I guess I’ll clean it up.