Like A Son

Everyone can see we're together
As we walk on by
And we fly just like birds of a feather
I'm not telling no lie

All of the people around us to say
Can we be that close
Just let me state for the record
We're giving love in a family dose, yeah

Twenty one years ago this past September, my first nephew was born. I loved loved being his aunt.  He was adorable and smart and I loved him like a son.  I was in college at the time so I didn't see much of him, but when I could see him, I soaked up every minute with him.

I bought him all sorts of toys and gifts as he grew up.

Then, things got a little rough.  I don't want to dwell into my family's deep dark secrets but let's just say that home conditions were not healthy and positive for him and his two younger sisters.  He would call me and tell me of some things and beg me to let him live with me.  I was not in a position to take on any children so I did what the mature, rational person inside of me should do, I encouraged him to tell his teachers, his friends, the parents of his friends -- anyone who would listen -- his story.  I contacted children's services.  

Long story short, he and his sisters were placed in foster care.  I had absolutely no doubt in my mind or heart that this was the best thing for them.  Yes, we all hear horror stories about "the system".  However, I just felt it in my soul that this would be the best thing for them.

My nephew was adopted by a loving family who believed in education and extra-curricular activities.  He was active in 4-H.  He excelled in school.  The nieces were adopted by a different family whom, I hear, gave them a decent life, too.

I lost touch with my nephew, mostly because my family did not know how to play nice with the social services agency and were bitter and angry towards the family who adopted him.  We were told that we were not to contact him or his family and that once he turned 18, if he wanted to contact us, he could.

He turned 21 this past September and reached out to my mom, who gave him my phone number.

He's been calling me this week but we keep missing each other.   To be honest, I was kind of dreading the call.   What do you say to someone you haven't talked to in over 12 years?  To someone who wanted you to adopt him? To someone who went through what they went through?  

But, I called him tonight and it was one of the best phone calls I've had in a long long time.

If I had a son, I'd like to think he'd be like him.  He's smart, funny and has a good head on his shoulders.  He has a good job with benefits.  He has his own place.  He has a girlfriend.  He has a truck that's paid for.  He's saving money to buy a house and/or get another truck.  An F350, Ford, Extended Cab.  That's his dream truck.  Dark blue.  I told him I know someone who has the exact truck he wants and he said he couldn't wait to own one.  I cautioned him that they are expensive.  He said he would work and save for it.

We talked a bit about the past and he told me, "I believe everything happens for a reason and that you can't let it hold you down."  He went on to tell me that he has no grudges, no anger.  He knows he had a good life and that if he had stayed with my family, he wouldn't have had the things he did growing up.  He said that he never truly understood how good it felt to be clean, to be safe and to be loved until he got adopted.   He's a very mature 21 year old.

He sounds like my brother.  He has the "Darnell" sense of humor.  But, the good news is - he inherited none of the bad qualities of my family and seems to have all of the good. Like me.

I told him that I never really fit in and that I was so glad to get away from there because I didn't like the "unhealthy" aspects of my life there.  He said he knew exactly what I was talking about.

For the first time in my life, I didn't wonder if I was some how switched at birth.  It was good to find someone who is "blood" related who is actually fairly normal and mentally healthy.

It was refreshing to have a conversation with a family member that didn't involve anger, ignorance, and frustration.

I have a message from my mother I need to return.

I think I'll save that for another day.