This Message was Marked Not Important

I sat back in my chair and didn't know what the label on that email message meant. I couldn't click away from the page. My email account said that a picture of my bio family celebrating Thanksgiving  was "marked not important." What? Why am I seeing that?

Was it some message from the universe? You know, let things be as they are; forgive and forget, or some other bullshit on my quest for inner peace.

It made me look at the "important" messages in my email in box.

-Redsox Store Holiday Gift Ideas.

-Get 20% off Black Friday sale from at least 20 retailers.

-The Ladders; These jobs are right  for you!  Pay for our premium service to view them.

Marketing people trying to persuade me that their message is the most important. Really?

I'm pretty sure that the message from my sister about my bio family is the most important.
I guess the universe doesn't have a good marketing department, maybe it should use The Ladders to recruit a new marketing director.

My sister has secretly sent me updates about my biological family over the past few years.

My bio family doesn't speak to me. I made contact with them a few years ago. I'm adopted and "reunited" with them.  I wanted a relationship, they didn't. Be a good adoptee don't rock the boat. That's their sentiment.

Except my sister Janice she keeps contact by email.

My sister began her email message with the usual updates about her and the family.
Don't get me wrong, I love hearing that her family is doing well. The girls are busy with school and soccer, I appreciate reading that, but I don't know her kids so it becomes shallow.  I would like more.
She told me that our brother turned 50 in October and spent his "special" day in Disneyland.
My brother Glen was the next born; I'm the oldest. Janice was born after him; followed by Julie the youngest.

I have never met my brother Glen but from my sister's description I gather he is like the guy at work that when he enters the lunchroom your co-worker says, "have you met Bob's kid, Glen?" as he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. That's so everyone knows to say "Hi Glen" in a friendly sing song kind of voice. Then everyone scurries away mumbling "got a meeting talk to ya."
Do you really want to hear about the Anime Convention he went to over the weekend?

Bob is our Dad; Glen works for the same company as our Dad.

Do you know the definition of the name Glen? It's Gaelic for a narrow valley. That's a good description of his personality.

I wonder if they chose that name for a reason?  I was once told that nothing is a coincidence, that there is a reason for everything, whether you consciously know it or not. I am going with that.
He seems to have his narrow pathway defined.

By him, my parents or the universe? Not sure.

My mother did say we raised our kids as an immigrant family. I know that immigrant families stick together. I was raised in a French immigrant family, they had the same rules. I say fuck the rules.

Glen is a lot like our Dad, a man who doesn't take chances. Men who follow a shallow path.  Apricots don't fall from the tree!  It's a joke, my family grew apricots in San Jose.

I wonder why that not one of my siblings or for that matter their children have varied from the "path."

So far.

People don't vary from the path because of fear, I'm certain of it. They allow the grip of fear to rule their life. You can try and convince me that they have a vision, a direction. I say bullshit, try something new; different.
GET OUT OF YOUR FUCKING COMFORT ZONE!

I doubt Glen ever got the rush of adrenaline when risking everything. Believe me you want to turn back when you risk it all but, you see the future. That when it's over, and you are sitting at the bar recounting your adventure, that you will experience the best feeling in the world.
A sense of accomplishment washes over you, and yes, the realization that you made it through your journey alive is intoxicating.

I know my sister Janice struggles with that.  Why would she take a chance and contact me if she didn't see some other path?

It's so interesting because I know we are descendants of Turks and North Africans. I know because I did a DNA test. I'm sure our ancestors overcame their fear; they migrated to Sicily where they lived for a thousand years; maybe conquered it for a time.
Details.
I know my great grandparents with their young children immigrated to America. One of their sons was my grandfather Paolo.  They got on a ship and didn't look back.

What happened?
I don't think visiting Tomorrow Land for your 50th birthday counts as an adventure.
Or getting a job with the same company our Dad worked at for 25 years counts as taking chances.

That is the beauty of adoption you are placed in a different family with different expectations. Your bio family's DNA and your adopted family's pathway. It is beautiful really, you can reach down to your DNA, your history, your abilities and make a different path.  A more winding and deeper path.

That's why I'm the lucky one. I even live on Lucky Street. No really I do, for real.

When you're adopted everything is different. You look different, you act different, and you are different than your adopted family. Think about the analogy of putting a square peg in a round hole, then put the emotion on it; frustration and fear guide your life. You're still a peg but you don't fit.

During "reunion" with your bio family you get the realization that your life decisions may have been different. That your life experiences may have been altered.... and, the things you value most may not have been presented to you.

It's hard to comprehend.

Would you give up the things you value most?

Would you give up the experiences that made you who you are?

Or worse, how about you never met the person you love the deepest?

When I first made contact with my bio family I had a dream. It was a snowy cold Lynn, Massachusetts' night and I was standing outside my adopted family's house. I was looking through the kitchen window as my family was eating supper. That's what we call the evening meal back east.  Actually, it's pronounced suppah, but I have toned down my Massachusetts accent.

I looked through the window and my seat was taken by someone else. Some strange woman.
I wrote down the dream because it was one of those dreams that sticks with you.
I called the dream, "The Table's Full"

When I look at my bio family's Thanksgiving table every seat is taken.
There is no more room. You can't squeeze in one more chair.  I'm sure you would have to set up the card table up for "extra" guests.

I think that dream represented that you are really not part of either family. You are always looking through a window to your other life.
Yes, your adopted parents love you but you're not part of their DNA.  I know, I know, you can still love. But the human need to have your blood line passed along is primal. There is some a sense of loss by all parties.

Just think about it.

That's why I am the lucky one. I am following a more deeper and winding path. My path.