late june, 1984. route 28 north. summer vacation. big blue station wagon, with my skating dresses and tights all packed, on the way to lake placid to practice for the first 6 weeks of summer, no less than a million hours a day, both on and off the ice. the 4 hour car ride felt like a million years to me every time.
"tell me the story again, ma."
"sure:) your mother was very young......and she knew she couldn't take care of you, and she loved you so much, she gave you away to a family that she knew could give you what you needed. love, time, care."
i remember sitting in the passenger side, trying to figure this out. "try harder to figure it out." that's what i kept telling myself. if adoption didn't make sense to me, i must not be trying hard enough to figure it out.
adoption didn't make sense to me that summer, or any of the summers before, or any of the summers, winters or springs of falls since. all i knew, and know, for SURE, is that it makes no sense.
never has, never will.
to be continued.........