Tag: Blessings

Posted in Christy's Concepts

I DO Have Friends

Posted on by Christy Petty

A friend asked me a question of my feelings on a certain matter then if it was affecting my friends or my relationships with them.  My first response was “ I don’t have friends.” The two friends with me, responded with the “yes you do’s” etc.  I kept responding with “ No not really.” I think now that was pretty rude of me. To them and all of my dear coveted friends.  The two sitting before me I was trying to convince that I did not, ARE definitely friends.

When I said I did not have friends I was not saying in a pitiful way “ No one likes me.”  Plenty of people like me, and I them. I probably like more people than like me and more people like me than I know.  It is not that I do not consider many people my friends, I do I really do. I do apologize to the friends I looked in the eye and said ” I have no friends.” to, how RUDE of me! I apologize to all my friends,my friends of past, and present, my internet blog friends, my ‘family’ friends, those who will read this and those who may never read this, ‘Ode to Friends’, I am sorry I do not appreciate you!

My explanation: I do refer to just about everyone I know as a ‘friend’. If speaking of So And So, who I have not seen or spoken to for 20 years, I will say “ My friend So And So did….” If anyone has reciprocated any kindness to me, a returned phone call, an email response, clicked ACCEPTED or FOLLOW on Facebook, or Pinterest, they ARE my friend. I consider many my friends, even if they may not me, being my friend is not conditional on your liking me, but me liking you.  This I learned from my youngest son, Evan.

When Evan was about 12 he came home from a gathering at church saying his friends that he had known for about 8 years, had treated him badly. Evan has some learning disabilities, just enough to make him ‘different’. At the age of 12 the boys are all coming to a place where they are all a bit odd, and Evan’s oddness was just something they did not want to include in the mix, anymore. Well, he told me of the cruel things these friends for years spoke to him, Momma Bear got PISSED. I explained to Evan how wrong they were, and that I was sorry for the cruelty he had endured and that they were not his friends, friends did not do that. Evan’s face became very stern and he said ‘NO’, I thought to say no he would not endure such cruelty again. He said “ NO, they are my friends” I thought he did not understand what I had explained, and started again to tell him people who are friends do not treat their friends as such. He interrupted to say “ No Mom , They MY friends, not like me but me like them.” He literally shrugged his shoulders and went on about the day.  Lesson learned, by Mom.

I don’t have a friend that comes and see’s me unannounced, and walks in the front door and makes herself a cup of coffee and chats with me while I shower. I don’t have a friend that I call, and go paint the town with. instead of with husband. I don’t have friends who call me or I call to tell of the upcoming Pap, or mammogram, or the worry of the bad results of. I don’t clothes shop with friends, I will wander shop, like antique mall, gift shop ,flea market, malling, but not a real ‘mission’ shop. My friends, local and out of townies, I will have one on one times with maybe 3 times a year, maybe. What I meant by my “ I don’t have friends” is complicated. I suppose I am comparing to the T.V. ‘Friends’ and my gleaned idea of friendship relationships from what I think they are suppose to look like, and I don’t have that.

When my friend, an out of townie, was asking what my friends thought of… “I have no friends that I relate to that way, other than you.” would have been a better response. And I do not think this a bad thing.  I don’t feel comfortable presenting all my life events, my problems, with my friends. I blog about it, but don’t call up and talk about it.  I welcome their knowing, asking what’s up, and telling me their life events. I, if they are interested, will disclose way more than anyone wants to hear. Complicated

Somewhere in the past I got the idea that I am pretty damn boring and unimportant and for me to call or talk to people about ‘me things’ is just a waste of their time. So I pulled back, stopped calling, stopped approaching, started waiting for my friends to make the first move. This has, I believe, limited the depth of my relationships with my friends. I am not a very ‘good’ friend to others, by my trying to be a good friend and not subject them to my mundane life. Complicated

I am not an initiator, I don’t like to make decisions that involve other people, ask Keith. I am a loner,an introvert. I love to be with other people, to chat about mundane, to share life’s joys and sorrows. I open my heart and home to my friends at any time they have a need or need a drink a shoulder a pillow a meal… I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE interaction with my friends, I treasure those times. Yet, I do not feel comfortable calling same friends up on a boring afternoon just to chat, I do not want to interfere with their goings on. Complicated

I hear my friends speak of goings on in their lives, interactions with their friends, even my husbands recent ski trip with guys. I hear of the antics, it sounds like episodes of  Friends.  I have never experienced that. This is where I come up with “ I don’t have friends.” Not like that. I assume THAT is what people mean by having a friend. And we know what ASSUME does, it makes and ASS out of U and ME.  This time I believe I am the only ASS.  I should never compare such a treasure as a friendship to a television show, or an idea, I should look at all of them for what they are, blessings from God.

Posted in Adoption

Being Adopted

Posted on by Christy Petty

For me there are two stories of my adoption. The why and how I became an adoptee and the life of being adopted. In observing other adoptee stories the majority have similar why and how’s, especially we adopted as infants. The ‘being’ adopted differs in the circumstances of the family we become, just as each life differs, being adopted or not.

We adoptees do all possess something alike, something to possibly battle or have shadow us. I have noticed that some seem to embrace it, and use it as their excuse for what ever negative behavior they choose, or negative anything that enters their lives. Others may feel it, encounter it, as they try to develop relationships,grow as parents, as spouses. They will stumble and wonder on worth, and hopefully come out all the stronger on the other side. The ‘IT’ that we all have in common, is our being given away.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, given to a mother and a father (usually). Given to a stable home. Given to a better life. All of this IS better than  being raised by a teen/single mom, parents not ‘ready’, drug addict, rape victim who resented, any parent who does not choose to keep their child. If a parent can find a reason to give up custody of a child, and believe in that reason, whether it be selfish, unselfish, logical or illogical, then the child is better with some one who desires to have them.  It is exactly that, though, that plays with an adoptees mind, the bio parent reasoned to give us away.   Because, if the bio’s really wanted they would found reason to keep.  We keep the best out of the a litter of puppies. We go to counseling to keep from leaving a spouse. Parents risk incarceration and break custody court orders, just to keep their children( sometimes their dogs). I have kept kittens from litters, and sobbed when I gave the others away, when I already had too many cats. I have given home to dog’s dumped on on the street to add to my to many others.  Parents who have no money and too many children. who have no business having any more keep their 6th ‘little accident’ and find a way.  It is those things that I notice, and I really think all adoptees glance at, at least once.

My parents always explained to me the self sacrificing choice my biological mother made, how she loved me so much she did give me to be adopted. I believe that.  My mom and dad (as do I) understood the courage it took for this unmarried16 year old to stay  pregnant  in the 60’s (anytime actually)they knew she could have chosen another way to deal with the pregnancy. They knew the strength it took for her to sign a paper saying she would give her child, to complete strangers. The child that she carried for 9 months, felt growing inside of her, and delivered with much pain. The child she held and held and looked into eyes like her own, or the ‘he’ that was gone. Giving to others, with the hope that her child would be loved with a love as big as the love she was not allowing herself to have. My parents were able to convey this to me. I believe my incubator mother to be a saint. A Joan of Arc. I love her for giving me to  my family. I am not angry with my bio mother. I am not angry with God.No anger at all.  Bio Mother did nothing TO me, she actually did for me. I thank God for my creation.

I have met my biological family and I know the circumstances of before and after my birth.  I know I could not have been ME, with all my genes, without D & L conceiving me. My conception would have been impossible,for just a year after my birth my bio father died.  God created me to be. Under whatever circumstances. God did not make my bio’s have premarital sex. He did not make my bio mother choose to not abort. God did not make her put me up for adoption. God did not create me to be adopted. God blessed the adoption, He blessed me with great parents.  IF I had been aborted, they probably would have been blessed with another baby girl to adopt.  I am not stomping my  foot at God, I am so aware of His blessings, and thank Him always for them.

Being adopted and being a receiver of unconditional love has given me an appreciation for relationships All of my family has/have loved me and cared for and about me because I am ‘theirs’. I do not need to be from their gene pool to receive this love, they all choose to see me as ‘them’ and love me as them.  Having my bio put aside her own feelings, suffer stigma, so I could be born, then deny her maternal love and give me to the hope of a better life than what she had to offer, I know what sacrificial love means. I have witnessed a pure, unselfish, humble love through my parents, by their never being ‘prideful’ for the good deed they did to take in the poor unwanted child. They always knew me to be a gift from God, the pride they felt was to have received the blessings of their children, my brothers and I.  With my being adopted I see the travesty committed by so many who  take their families, their loves for granted. They place conditions on the love they give the love they receive. Families cut ties, stop speaking, refuse relationships. Waste blessings from God.  Being adopted has given me more than anyone not adopted can imagine.  I am blessed beyond measure, and I know it.

Still, though, I become forlorn. I wonder, what if, she had kept me? Would my mother that raised me and loved me as her own and I have had the same conflict if I had actually been her ‘own’?  Would I be more secure, less afraid of displeasing others if I had been ‘kept’? Why is it that my bio mother and I don’t visit, don’t have a constant relationship? Is she ever sorry she gave me up? What could have been? What does it feel like to completely and absolutely belong? Does everyone feel misplaced or is it just adopted souls? Or is it just me getting hung up in some old dead ‘tree’?