Today as I was giving my son a bath, I heard him singing a song as he was placing squirtable toys into a small plastic bucket I use to rinse him. He was smiling and playing and asked for me to singalong with the song that I was playing on my iPhone. At that moment, to me it seemed he was happy and felt secure - comfortable in routines of life that we have set up for him. And then I looked at the way his hair grew, the slight dimple he has when he smiles, and the many other little things which he likely inherited from his biological parents. It reminded me of the fact that my wife and I will have to continue to let our son know that we became a family thru adoption and that we are not, in fact, related by blood.
From time to time, I think about the parents of 태영이, particularly his mother whom had to make the difficult decision to give him up for adoption. I'd like to believe that she thinks about 태영이 everyday, or at the very least each time she sees a mother with their child. I wonder if she regrets the decision she made and wishes she could take him back (which, as heartbreaking as it would be, I know I would honor that request). But more than just the fact that her son is no longer with her, lately I've been wondering how very different things might have been if 태영이's mother had met his father on different terms. If his father would've been just a little younger and, perhaps, in love with his mother. If his mother was just a bit older, and had been in a committed relationship with 태영이's
father. And if they would have met at a bar where their relationship was more than a brief encounter that left a young woman unexpectedly pregnant, then perhaps instead of 태영이 adjusting to life in America, instead of him having to learn English as his primary language, and instead of him losing physical connection to the country he was born in - maybe he'd be giving his mother and father the same smiles, laughter, and joy that he brings us. But, importantly, he would have an innate connection to his biological parents, and never have the void of having to wonder what his blood parents looked like, what their personalities were like, and, what his mother was thinking in the moments before giving him up for adoption.
The paths of destiny that manifest things in our life are varied and, even more so, delicate. And the paths we choose to take and embrace are like walking a tight rope. What would happen if my wife and I had never had met when we were 11 by being placed in Mrs. Friedman's 6th grade math class? Or if by chance we didn't get randomly reconnected by a mutual friend whom we both barely spoke to at the time? Regardless of the difficulty, regrets, and guilt that we all carry with the decisions and journey in fate that we have all taken (and, in many case, chosen) I think we should all strive to remember (even when things are at their darkest) that we do have the ability to change our lives, especially the outlook we have. As I've said before, I am certainly not an optimistic person, but I wasn't always so pessimistic and jaded, and I am slowly clawing my way back to a more optimistic person. And a big part of that is really knowing when to give up to war against trying to figure out why things ended up the way they did, as unfair as it may have been for you. Only then can you really start to look forward to really living for the present and, possibly, the future.
"Fate is never fair. You are caught in a current much stronger than you are; struggle against it and you'll drown not just yourself but those who try to save you. Swim with it. and you'll survive"
