I wonder if she wonders?"

It is my experience that the holiday season is a time that includes nagging questions for most adoptees. And, in my years of living with those questions there is a loss of peace that is seemingly unavoidable once we engage in the musing. It isn't necessarily that the questions are bad or even that the answers are accompanied by any particular emotion. It's jsut that those whoe are not adopted don't think about the same things we do, and that sets the stage for a familiar loneliness...a loneliness that includes the reality of an imaginary mother.

I've been giving some thought to the idea that even small children sometimes handle loneliness by creating imaginary friends to accompany them through the day. Three of my four children had imaginary playmates when they were young. I suspect my youngest, who is still very lonely, has an invisible, silent companion with whom he may be sharing secrets and dreams today. He is twenty-two. "Twenty-two!" you say. And you probably think, "That is much too old for one to have an imagined companion!" But some loneliness is not easily tolerated and can only be addressed with imagination.

When my children allowed me to glimpse, always through a window, the world they had created from some memory I did not recognize, I found the names, character and interests of these unseen playmates to be foreign. It was like an encounter with people from another land or another time and place, unknown to me but familiar to my children. I would ask questions of the invisible friends and my sons and daughter would speak in a voice different from their own when answering. As I recall, it seemed that they were in some enchanted place that could be known only to them and I suspect I smiled at their creativity.

The journey with an imaginary mother is different. It requires more courage than creativity. In those conversations that I have in my head with my birth mother, I find that I can only speak for myself. I never risk speaking for her. Why? Because I don't understand her!

I don't know where she is.

I don't know how she could have left.

I don't know what I did to make her want to leave.

I don't know what she sounds like.

I don't know what she looks like.

You see, it is hard to make up someone who is real.

So...I settle for wondering if she wonders about me too.

Suzanne Stabile - December 17, 2010

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In reflecting on what caused me to wonder about my birth parents and their families during the holiday season I am aware of some subtle language changes that might be helpful to you.

Sometimes we say: "I remember the first Christmas after we got you..."

Instead say: "I remember our first Christmas..."

Sometimes we say: "This is Suzanne and Joe's adopted daughter _______..."

Instead say: "This is Suzanne's and Joe's daughter _______..."

Sometimes we avoid what needs to be said. It woudl be really good to say to your son or daughter at some point during the holidays something like, "I would bet your birth mother always thinks of you during the holidays. I sometimes think about her, do you?" And then be prepared for a conversation that might or might not result. Either way, let the child lead.

Language is subtle but so very powerful. It is good to be conscious of patterns of speaking that may not communicate what is in your heart.

As we continue to build the My TreeHouse community, I am so aware of the gift you are in my life and I look forward with hope to 2011. We will be blessed with the gift of sharing what we are learning with new families and we will be challenged to keep learning as we try to better understand the realities of adoption. Finally, because of the strength you all give to me, I will be able this year for the first time to pray for blessing for the mother, father, and perhaps siblings I will probably never know. For some reason that I cannot yet explain, your love for me is making it easier for me to have honest affection for them. Thank you.

I pray that this holiday season is filled with aded blessing for you and yours.

Suzanne