Her Holiness the Holly Lama

My father is amazing. Back in December while he was having surgery on his knees, my mom and I had a long discussion about how I'd kind of like to find my biological mother. (A little bit of backstory: My biological father first contacted me when I was 19, and in the beginning I was really excited to meet him; but as I got to know him I came to realize that he was just as immature and deplorable now as he was when I was born. He also was incredibly unhelpful when I would ask him questions about my biological mom, telling me he had very little information about her. I dropped all contact with him, aside from about 2 weeks ago when he called me to tell me all about how he lost a toe to diabetes, as if I give a shit.)

Anyhow, my mom and dad talked about it and they decided they would like to help me hunt her down. My dad did an extensive amount of research, including calling the police department in the state where he'd somehow discovered that my bio mom's father lived. I guess a couple of weeks ago, she called him. My biological mother called my adoptive father. Her name is Cheryl Ann Harvill Delong, she lives in Corpus Christi, she married a man named Chuck. She never had any other children. She expressed to my parents that she hates my bio dad and that she was, and still is, incredibly ashamed that she wasn't able to take care of me. She was barely 16 when she had me, and honestly made the best decision possible for both of us. Apparently I am the one and only benefactor in her will. She told my parents that she'd really like to talk to me. Her mother died when she was only 8, but the aunt that raised her lives here in Oregon and is going to drop by and bring my parents some pictures of Cheryl. She gave my parents her address, phone number, cell number, and email address.

My dad dropped this information on me like a bomb. I was at once excited and incredibly depressed. In a way, I thrived on that mystery. That unusual sense of not knowing where I came from, what problems I may face in the future, of not really having much of a heritage. Now there is an open book in front of me, and I'm still trying to decide how much I really want to know. I learned that my grandmother was full Cherokee. That makes me 1/4 Cherokee. I'm also German, Swedish, Norwegian. My biomom has horrible migraines, just like I do. She had an MRI a few years ago, just like me. Hers was completely normal, which is where we differ. She hates my biological father, and told my parents that he was nothing but an ungrateful mooch. . .what's funny is he's described himself the same way. I guess I know where my brutal honesty comes from.

But knowing these things feels so surreal. I'm partly in shock and partly in mourning. I'm also so grateful that my parents have been so completely supportive in all of this. I thought for a while about what I wanted to do, now that I have all this information. . .and I sent her an email. It reads:

Hello Cheryl,

This is Holly. I just wanted to email you and let you know that you are under absolutely no obligation to keep in touch with me, but I would love to get to know you better. I just have no idea where to begin. I'm glad that you contacted my parents--I know my dad went through a lot in order to find you. I'm sorry if we somehow managed to scare you and I can only imagine how strange it must be to be hearing from me 27 years down the road.

You don't have to reply to this email, but I would love it if you would. It'd be great to hear from you.

Take Care,

Holly

There are so many things that I want to tell her, and so many things I want to know, that I really do not know where to begin. I'm hoping that maybe by getting to know her things will start to make sense to me. Maybe *I* will begin to make sense to myself. Maybe I will finally have that sense of belonging that I have so yearned for; but something makes me doubt that. Maybe she has always felt the way I do, maybe it's something we'll have in common. I certainly did not have anything in common with the paternal side of the biofamily. . .I'm hoping my luck with her will be better. Maybe who I am has absolutely nothing to do with my genetics. But at least now I am being given the opportunity to find out. It'd be kind of neat just to have her as a friend.

I've just been feeling very strange ever since I was handed all of this information. I'm constantly on the brink of tears and I can't even begin to explain why. I just wish she'd reply to my email. Even if it's just to tell me that she's really not comfortable continuing to communicate with me. SOMETHING is better than nothing. I just wonder how long it will take for the weirdness to wear off.

I have this vision in my head of meeting her, of hugging her, and of everything that's ever seemed strange in my life just suddenly snapping into perspective. And then I realize just how unrealistic that is, and how fucking disappointing it was to finally meet my biodad, and I become really apprehensive, and wish I'd never mentioned wanting to find her at all. I know that I am entitled to have all of these mixed emotions, and I know that there aren't very many people out there that can possibly understand how this must feel. I am having a hard time even wrapping my brain around what SHE must be thinking and feeling right now. Is she writing a blog, too?

Happy New Year, peeps!

I feel SO OLD now.  At twenty-seven.  Yeah. 

Pass me the Murder She Wrote DVDs and some BenGay, please. . .

I'm alive! Busy, exhausted, but alive all the same.

Things are going swell.

I was thinking the other day about how limbs "fall asleep."  Isn't that creepy?  I always wonder: if I were to sit on my hand for too long, would it "lose consciousness", or even "die?"  It's an odd thing to think about, I know.  Welcome to my mind.

When I pluck my eyebrows, I sneeze.  Does anyone else get that?

Sometimes for no reason my tongue feels like its two full sizes too big for my mouth.  I worry about biting it.  It keeps me up some nights, I'm serious!

My thumbs are really fucking sore from playing Beautiful Katamari for. . .oh my god.  I've been playing Katamari for 4 hours straight!  It's totally bedtime.

I think a point is more validly made through kindness.  When you attempt to change a person or situation with criticism or ill will, little to no progress occurs. 

I believe that anger and unkind words are no way to solve a problem.  An open dialogue can never happen with a hostile participant, and a person that wishes to do harm cannot be expected to be patient or amiable.

It's not always easy to face a problem directly and handle it with grace and decorum.  Some people take a lifetime to acquire this skill; while others never learn.  What I find frustrating is the person that never bothers to try.

I'm glad that, presently, my life is completely void of unpleasant and despicable people.  I can appreciate that in certain situations, it's best to just cut your losses and be grateful.

Wyrd: Fate personified; one of the three Weird Sisters. 




I am Ze Wyrd.