
My adopted family got together this week in a small town in Pennsylvania to celebrate a marriage that took place some time ago. My understanding of family has been evolving greatly over the past few years, and I feel compelled to share what it means to me.
My birth parents never divorced; I want put up for adoption; I wasn’t orphaned. I wasn’t from what would be considered a broken home. But there was something very broken within the family situation that left me scarred.
When I met my best friend, just over ten years ago I found someone who was a mirror to me. She validated much of my life story. She helped me to become self-aware. But in the process of finding myself and becoming an individual, my birth family became more distant.
I found that I was a branch on my family tree that was no longer being nourished, but I was also part of a tree that refused to accept the love and nourishment that I had to offer.
A branch that is no longer nourished will not survive.
And this is where my friend’s family stepped in. When they were in need, they permitted me to be a part of that family and fill the needs that I could fill.
A grafted branch on a tree is a unique relationship. It receives nourishment from the roots, but it also contributes to the health of the tree via photosynthesis. It’s genetics is different from the rest of the organism, but once grafted it has become somewhat interdependent – it is a relationship in which all benefit, and if severed, all will suffer.
Where my birth family severed a relationship, this family took that wounded branch that is me, found a place in the midst of their own struggles and pain, and permitted me to be grafted into this beautiful tree.
This is what love is. This is what love does.
I still marvel. I recall a visit to my birth parent’s house some years ago with my best friend, before I could fully comprehend that I was no longer really welcome, and I still recall the uncomfortable feeling of distance. And in my mind as I sit writing this I contrast that feeling to my experiences over this past week and I cannot help but note the difference. While with my new family, I was at ease and comfortable. There were no suspicious glances, no lack of trust. I was at home.
I have sisters and family who genuinely care about me. (To be absolutely fair, I do have a birth brother who I have a close relationship with, but even he and I have never been able to achieve the level of closeness that I have with my adopted family; perhaps there is still too much unprocessed trauma there – it’s difficult to say. But there is love. )
The point of all of this though is that I see I am part of something more now. Where once I felt as if I were an interloper I see now that wasn’t the case at all; I was a scion, a small branch removed from where it has been struggling, and carefully grafted into a place where I could not only thrive individually, but be there for those who love and accept me.
Grafting is a process that involves wounds, but when done correctly both the scion and the tree benefit. I think this is the case with the family I’ve been grafted into.
To my grafted family, thank you for loving me. Thank you for giving me a place to grow. Thank you for giving me a place to heal.
