Included in the group were two people, invited by the family, but only months before, no one knew who those two people were. But Ethel knew.
She was their birth mother.
I was one of those guests.
Thanks to DNA technology, I found my birth mother's family in November of last year. On Thanksgiving we placed a video call and my family spoke ever so briefly with my mother, my wife's mother-in-law, and my children's grandmother. Ethel passed days later and on Saturday family and friends met to remember.
At the beginning of the weekend, not everyone of Ethel's family knew the truth. It's a lot to take in, when not only one child that was given up for adoption shows up, but two. By the time we separated Sunday, everyone knew and we shared a moment so amazing and personal and wonderful and special, I hope I never forget it.
Though Ethel was not there physically, I believe she attended in spirit. As I listened to the stories and watched the video showing photos of her life, I wished I could have spoke with her, gone for a walk by the lake's edge, and I'll bet taking a road trip with her would be a total blast.
After escaping to a different world, returning to normal feels foreign. I've spent the last few days in a sort of fog with my thoughts returning to my half-sister's home filled with cousins, in-laws, and dogs. We were welcomed with opened arms, arms that held us (figuratively and literally...) then entire time. We parted pledging to reunite in the future. We look forward to doing just that.
When I look at the photo of my birth mother, I'm filled with emotions, some I expected, but others I could not imagine in my wildest dreams. Love, respect, even sadness. Though we found each other at the end of her life, we've always been together, always shared that bond.
What a beautiful soul.
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