Loss. And Loss. And Loss.

There is grief support for children who lose parents, unless they are adopted. I rather feel like Jack Worthing inĀ The Importance of Being Earnest, who is told “To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness.”

Well, as an adoptee, I have four parents. I lost two. Lost a third, permanently. Reunited with one. Was rejected by the final one.

That rejection? Stings. Still. The reality of me is threatening, the things I’ve most feared my entire life, the reason I am so often less than myself.

And I’ve been “invited” to reach back out and potentially face rejection again. I’m told that my final remaining unknown parent is “open” to speaking with me — now that they’re in the midst of a health crisis, one that could resolve badly. So, if I’m so inclined, I can reach out again. It might be my last chance. And I could open myself back up to lose a real person this time, instead of the possibility of one.

I guess I wonder how I keep myself in all of this.