When I read the first of Essin' Em's 30 Days Of Letters (Done before her by other bloggers whom I keep intending to read in length), I was intrigued. And now I'm giving it a go myself.
Five years before I was born, my mother had a daughter that she gave up for adoption. They have recently re-connected and all the feelings I used to have have floated to the surface.
I have never met you. Or even spoke to you, or emailed with you. Five years before my birth, our mother gave you up for adoption. You two recently found each other and started emailing, but I have not asked her much about it yet.
When I was young, I resented her very much for giving you away. I blamed her for giving up my sister. As I grew older I understood why she had to, but it’s hard to explain to a young child that Mommy just couldn’t raise a child before. As I reached adolescence I started to wonder what I would do if I had a child, and while any child I’d conceived would have been aborted, the outcome is still a child I would never know because I couldn’t support it, and so I forgave her. You were always in the back of my mind in those years, my constant wonder at whether you were like me, what you looked like, where you lived.
Adulthood faded all of that to a dull roar with its own concerns. I no longer thought so much about you, having figured that I’d probably never meet you.
And then you contacted the agency, looking for my mother, less than a month ago. And now, when I’m not thinking about my own life, I’m wondering about yours again. The question of where you live, at least, has been answered - in the same city as me. It is incredibly hard to resist asking our mom to ask you if you’d be interested in meeting, but I know I shouldn’t rush into it.
More than anything, sister, I hope you actually want to be my sister. That even if you’re not a weirdo like me and mom, you still can find love for us as family. I always thought of you as my sister, even though we have never met. And more than anything, I want to meet you.