Feeling Alone

Today’s story – Adopted at birth. Black child adopted by white family. Intense borderline personality disorder and identity issues. Constant shame. Why do I feel this way! My adoptive parents were always good to me. My adoptive mother said she understands but refuses to read literature about how traumatized I am because she doesn’t like non fiction.

Fast forward to August of last year I took an Ancestry DNA test. My birth mother was indifferent when I found her, but my birth father was brimming with joy that he had a daughter. My mom never told him she was pregnant. They had a fling in the military together years ago. Anyways, I look just like my dad and he’s already spoke about the guilt he feels missing out on my life. He loves my kids (his grand kids) and he is flying us out to visit him this winter. He’s a great man and I finally found my family. Why do I still feel so alone?

Some thoughts –

One adoptee noted – The abandonment is so real. It’s just a part of who I am.

Another adoptee writes – Lifelong trauma is something that can be lessened over time but unfortunately it will always be there to some degree. I am 76 and will never be rid of some of the ‘stuff’. I do take some comfort and closure in knowing who I am and where I came from. I hope in time you can take comfort in that and develop a longlasting and close relationship with your birth dad. My heart goes out to you.

Another person calls it out – Not liking nonfiction is an absolutely ridiculous excuse to not read about the trauma of adoption (particularly transracial adoption). I’m so sorry she isn’t willing to do that for you.

Another adoptee acknowledges – reunion sometimes feels like it will fix everything but it doesn’t, unfortunately. There is more grief to process in that we missed out on so much time with biological family and even though there can be instant and great connections, we still don’t feel truly a part of the family.

An adoptee in reunion notes – I’ve been in reunion for over 10 years and still feel lonely, even though it’s all been really great. I think it’s just a part of who we became when we were taken away. I wish we could feel instantly better, when we find answers to our history but this is also why I always talk to everyone about adoption and all it’s myths because doing this to people is just so messed up. We had no say in this but yet we are the ones that have to deal with all the ramifications.

One adoptee admits – I never really made the connection. I have had a lovely reunion with my dad as well, but you are right. I constantly tell my husband, I feel alone. I just don’t fit anywhere. I’m dealing with it. It’s a process though.

An interesting explanation from an adoptee – Our brains have been rewired for protection instead of connection. We literally had our brains synapses and pathways changed in order to survive in a world without connection. My psychologist described it as “what we are told is love for us is survival and trauma bonding”. When our whole concept of love is based on this, is it any wonder we struggle to understand connection. I did until I had my own babies and that in itself was a devastating reality. Even with them, my little family and reunion of sorts, I still feel utterly alone like an alien dropped into a moonscape. We are having a normal reaction to a very abnormal situation.

Some advice from someone who facilitates reunions – Why is it not enough? Because it is not enough – it is so much less than you deserve. Why can’t your mother behave the way your father is behaving? Why can’t you matter to her, the way you matter to him? It hurts because your getting only half of what you are entitled to – what every person born is entitled to. You are not ungrateful for what you have —you are necessarily anguished for the absence of something every person deserves and every person actually needs to feel complete and secure – having two parents that care about you. Humans are resilient. They can endure and survive horrible losses and violations and trauma. They can realize their inherent value, even after they’ve been abused and mistreated. They can move on but to expect them not to feel let down, when their parent is indifferent, is just not fair to a person in that situation. Don’t let your birth mother stop you from reaching out to your maternal relatives. They may think you are wonderful and want very much to know you.

Entrustment Ceremony

Not the best image but it gets the point across.

From the LINK>Lifetime Adoption website – For many birth parents, trusting a new couple with their precious baby can feel almost impossible. Additionally, both birth parents and adoptive parents often want to feel a sense of closure with their respective adoption journeys. For these reasons, many families like to celebrate adoption with a special entrustment ceremony.

Many find commemorating their child’s transition from birth family to adoptive family to be a powerful experience. In the past, some adoptive parents would welcome a new child into their home with a “welcome home” party or baby shower. Some would hold a naming ceremony or baptism. But the entrustment ceremony carries special meaning, because it involves both of the child’s families.

The ceremony can look however those involved want it to. If both families live in the same area, they might hold an entrustment ceremony at a local chapel or park. Some families hold the ceremony at a church. Usually, the ceremony begins with the birth parents talking about how they chose the adoptive parents and why they trust them with the care of their child. Then, the adoptive parents talk about the love they will have for the baby. They may also make promises for the future in the form of vows. You can talk about anything you’d like, including your feelings of trust and respect for each other.

Many will add a reading or song to the ceremony. The text is often religious, such as a passage from the Bible. Or, it could even be from a favorite book. The intention is to express their hope, happiness, and love in a poetic and meaningful way. Christian families may pray over the child and for each of the families. Some ceremonies involve lighting candles similar to the lighting of a unity candle in a wedding ceremony. Each parent or set of parents uses a lit candle to light a larger candle together. The ritual is a metaphor for the joining of two families in a unique way.

For birth parents, the ceremony allows them to have closure for what may have been a very difficult decision. The service provides a positive ending instead of a sad one. It allows each person the chance to say their piece. It will enable the participants to feel like the process is final, and they have said everything they wanted to say. Nobody will end up feeling like they have unfinished business. One fact stays the same: everyone participating loves the child and wants the best for him or her.

Being Fatherless

From Huffington Post LINK>I Was Told My Father Was A ‘Deadbeat.’ After He Died, I Found Out Everything I Knew About Him Was Wrong. “In the foster care system, being a fatherless daughter was the status quo.” by TJ Butler.

Growing up, all I knew about my father was that he was a “deadbeat.” My parents divorced when I was 4. He was a musician, playing bass in rock and country bands ― the only job he’d ever had ― and child support payments were always contentious. I remember Mom complaining that Dad would show up to the court hearings wearing torn jeans and T-shirts. In one hearing in the ’80s, she was awarded less than $70 for two children, based on his income. (blogger’s note – I remember being awarded $25/mo, when I didn’t ask for child support at my divorce because I knew he would never pay it and I wasn’t going to spend my life in court fighting for it.)

When I was a few years older, my younger sister and I spent an occasional weekend with him. I have little recollection of the infrequent visits, but I have colorful memories of his apartment. Framed Beatles albums covered the walls, sharing space with antique Civil War memorabilia and his many bass guitars. My stepmother, who I thought of only as “my father’s new wife,” was beautiful; the coolest adult I’d ever met. When I got my first period at 10, she was the one who explained how to use tampons.

Like my father, my mother entered a new relationship shortly after my parents divorced. But her boyfriend was an alcoholic, prone to verbal abuse and physical violence. At 13, I ended up in foster care, living in group homes and residential children’s centers. There was little talk of family reunification during those years; the night I left my mother’s house at 13 turned out to be the last time I ever slept there.

The group homes and children’s residential centers where I lived during my teens focused on independent living. As I neared 18, I learned about adulting: grocery lists, budgeting money for rent and utilities, and how to write a resume. In the system, communication with family members is regulated. Since I didn’t grow up with him and he didn’t seem interested, none of my counselors or my social worker encouraged me to have a relationship with my father. Being fatherless was just another box to check when I filled out questionnaires for therapy.

When I aged out of foster care, I was angry, but it was directed inward. Rather than hurting others, I hurt myself. There were drugs and alcohol, body piercings and tattoos, and years of nude modeling. A decade later, I had an epiphany that I couldn’t continue the way I was living and quit the adult business. I took out my piercings and had my most visible tattoos removed. I finished a BA in management, secured a corporate job with good benefits, and married my wonderfully supportive husband.

When my father died in 2011 of Parkinson’s with Lewy body dementia, I didn’t go to his funeral. My feelings were confusing. Why was I sad that a man I hardly knew passed away? It took some time to realize that I wasn’t crying over the loss of a father. Instead, it was the realization that now he’d never be able to change his mind and become my dad.

Moving forward, she decided she wanted to meet her half-brother. Rather than admit that she planned to drive 700 miles to see him out of the blue, she told him she had “a writing thing” near him and asked if he wanted to meet for coffee while she was in town. He agreed. She was excited and nervous, and eager to learn about what life was like growing up with their father. He began to fill in the blanks about their father. The person she’d known little about transformed from a deadbeat into a man. She learned how good-natured he was before he got sick and about how their house had been the magnet for kids in the neighborhood to hang out. He told her that he could see a lot of their father in her face. Since she felt she didn’t resemble the people on her mother’s side, she was thrilled to finally look like someone she was related to. (blogger’s note – this is a common experience among adoptees in reunion as well – having a genetic mirror.)

She goes on to share – I began seeing a therapist to work out some issues with my mother. Although it wasn’t family therapy and we didn’t connect, my perspective changed dramatically. I saw her as a flawed human, rather than simply a bad mother. This new way of thinking answered many questions about why I ended up in foster care and why she chose not to let me come home. This clarity has brought me some closure. She ends with how meeting her half-siblings was “about connecting with a family who welcomed me with open arms. Spending time with them gave me something that wasn’t even on my radar to wish for. For the first time in my life, it felt like I belonged somewhere.”

You Should Be Grateful

From her own website LINK>The Adopted Life – “Your parents are so amazing for adopting you. You should be grateful!”

Angela Tucker is a Black woman, adopted from foster care by white parents. She has heard this microaggression her entire life, usually from well-intentioned strangers who view her adoptive parents as noble saviors. She is grateful for many aspects of her life, but being transracially adopted involves layers of rejection, loss and complexity that cannot be summed up so easily. Tucker centers the experiences of adoptees through sharing deeply personal stories, well-researched history and engrossing anecdotes from mentorship sessions with adopted youth. These perspectives challenge the fairy-tale narrative of adoption giving way to a fuller story that includes the impacts of racism, classism, family, love and belonging.

The search for her biological family was documented in the 2013 film “Closure.”

From the LINK>Seattle Times – Her new book from Beacon Press, “You Should Be Grateful: Stories of Race, Identity, and Transracial Adoption,” explores Tucker’s life experience, her work with transracial adopted youth and the history of adoption in America. It’s both a powerful manifesto and a hopeful text that calls for reshaping how we talk and think about adoption.

The book uses terms from John Koenig’s “The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.” Angela uses terms like “ghost kingdom” and “postnatal culture shock.” Angela says, “in the same way John Koenig feels there aren’t enough words to adequately describe all of our emotions, I feel that way about transracial adoption. We’re kind of boxed into things like, for kids, you’re an Oreo: Black on the outside, white on the inside. That morphs in adulthood, and what I hear adoptees I mentor talk about is [being a] racial imposter. I think it’s important we find new words that can articulate the complexity of our layers and also honor the truth of it.”

“It’s a beautiful thing to grow up having parents who understand at the root that an adoption is a sad thing, that we wish an adoption didn’t have to happen. I had parents who acknowledged that pain for all of us. I know so many adoptees for whom that part is not allowed any space. Even for those adopted for reasons that are legitimate, there’s still a loss. And bypassing that and going straight to, ‘You’re here now, look at this great life,’ many adoptees now can articulate it feeling like gaslighting. ‘Maybe I am crazy to wish for and to long for being connected to my kin. I have my own room, I have three square meals a day, I get to do all these extracurriculars. I must be crazy for not being more thankful for it.’ That gaslighting is, in this sense, synonymous with confusion.”

More in the Seattle Times interview linked above.

It Is Dangerous To Be A Woman

Patricia Ann Tucker

In addition to helping adoptees discover their original parents and genetic background, DNA is providing a low level of justice for women who have been killed, with their bodies dumped in isolated places. I think all of my life I’ve known that to be a woman places one’s self in danger. At times, when I was younger, I was stupidly and naively willing to take risks that I recognize now were very dangerous and sometimes, I paid a minor price in receiving some sexual abuse (though not killed or seriously wounded) because of that. So often, when stories like today’s emerge, I think – “but for the grace of God,” or my guardian angels or whatever it has been that has “protected” me from my own miscalculations. That “whatever” has kept me safe and preserved this life.

Matthew Dale was 5 years old the last time he saw his mother (he was born in 1973, the same year that my daughter was born). He sat in the back seat of a stranger’s car that day of 1978. All his life he was missing his mom and didn’t know for certain what had happened to her. The last words his mother ever said to him before she disappeared were “. . . go across the street to the playground” (referring to a group home for juveniles) and “She said goodbye.” Tucker was shot in the temple, then dragged by the neck with a man’s belt. Some loggers found her under a stump on November 15, 1978. His father collected him the following day and raised him.

Matthew grew up dogged by the mystery of his mother’s disappearance. Rumors swirled among family members, including speculation that Tucker may have entered the federal Witness Protection Program. He has scant keepsakes from his mother: a single photo, baby books she created for him, a lock of his hair and a small tapestry she painted when he was small. When his father died in 2015, he felt somewhat adrift, although he is happily married and is a father. He has been a union electrician for most of his life.

He was in his 30s, when he accepted that his mother was dead. “Through the years,” Matthew says, “I’ve been told so many lies about it.” He later came to understand that his mother “fell in with the wrong crowd. She wasn’t a hiker, like some of the stories said.” Matthew filed his DNA in a database, in case his mother was ever identified. He sent state investigators his digital DNA profile after they found him through his uncle’s DNA. Now that his mother has been identified, he plans to arrange for a proper grave for her. For years, the grave had been marked only with a wooden cross. In 1998, Granby residents donated money to create a more dignified marker. He says, “It was an awful end. What I want to do is have a new gravestone made for her. She deserves to have her name on it.” Matthew admits “At least I have some answers. It’s a lot to process, but hopefully, the closure can begin now.”

Credit to LINKS>MASS Live and The Guardian for the details in today’s blog.

You Don’t Owe Anyone

An adoptee writes – I went no contact with my adoptive mother about 18 years ago. She was always abusive and treated her biological daughter much better than me. My cousin contacted me the other day and said I should reach out and make amends because she is showing signs of dementia and on death’s doorstep. Am I in the wrong for not trying? I mean she did raise me when no one else wanted me after all. I’m so torn and need advice.

One foster parent replied with her own experience – Only you know what your heart needs and no one else can make that choice for you. Completely different situation, but my grandmother died of Alzheimer’s and I was guilted into coming to say goodbye the week before she died. I knew I didn’t want those memories and now my last memories of her are of her being cruel and racist to the nurses in her care unit. She didn’t know me and she didn’t care that we were there. I wish I’d listened to my heart and not gone. You don’t owe this trip to anyone. Only go if you think it will give you closure. If it’s for anyone else, it’s not worth your time or energy. Hugs. This is a hard thing to go through even in the best of circumstances. Sending you love and peace.

One woman who identifies herself as the aunt of adoptees said clearly – Children do not “owe” their parents or caregivers anything. Ever. Especially in cases of abuse. The people who raised you certainly weren’t “care givers”. Only consider what is best for you in the short and long term. I’m sorry you’re having to face this. Be kind to yourself.

An adoptee writes – I had no natural parents either, was abused by my adoptive parents too. I cared for one for twenty years, am divided now on how smart that was. In hindsight? I’d say spare yourself. Wishing you all health and happiness whichever choice you make.

Another foster parent wrote – toxic is toxic. Unfortunately that means family too. For me personally, it doesn’t matter if it’s birth family, adoptive family, chosen family or forced…. Toxic is toxic and you owe NO ONE a reason for removing that from your life. You do what works for YOU and do not allow others to manipulate you into feeling things that aren’t yours to carry.

A hospice nurse was quoted as saying – “no one is owed your forgiveness, your love or your physical presence. Impending death does not change that in the slightest”.

Another adoptee writes – You went no contact for a reason. Honor yourself and your feelings, and only do what you feel is the right thing to do, not what other people thing is the right thing. A diagnosis doesn’t suddenly absolve someone from the horrible things they’ve done. Being on death’s door doesn’t suddenly absolve someone from the horrible things they’ve done. No one owes anyone an apology for any reason if they don’t want to give one.

Another adoptee offered a good analogy – You don’t have to care and you don’t have to care that you don’t care. Would you make friends with a bee that stung you in the eye every once in a while?! Give it a home? A place in your heart? Dedicate time and energy to it’s well being? It only stings your eye every once in a while…

Another adoptee suggested these self examination questions – Consider why you went no contact and how you’ve been since. Have you been at peace or had serious regrets? Have you ever attempted/thought about attempting a reconciliation because it was something you ideally would want? Do you think it’s something that could reasonably happen? If the answer is yes, then maybe consider it. If this isn’t the case, it’s ok not to pursue this. Decisions have consequences. You aren’t responsible for relieving the consequences of someone else’s hurtful behavior just because their time is running out and it would make them feel better. Don’t let external attempts at manipulation influence you. If you’ll feel guilty for not attempting a reconciliation, that is completely different from attempting a reconciliation to prevent others from trying to make you feel guilty.

And this important point to consider from another adoptee – dementia takes the filters off. There’s a chance she may be even crueler than you remember. She might not be, but it’s not a risk worth taking. If you can’t be in contact with her when she’s coherent, you shouldn’t be guilted into contact when she’s got even less self-control.

This self-assessment had leapt out at me also – I hope you are in therapy and I really encourage you to challenge the concept that “no one else wanted you”. That phrase feels like a knife to the heart, you deserved better and whoever said that to you or instilled that belief was grooming you to accept crappy behavior from people who were supposed to love and protect you.

More than one adoptee admitted to being no contact and estranged from their adoptive parents due to reasons of perceived abuse – having feelings such as doubt, guilt, and obligation are common in estrangement situations, and especially in adopted people.

Difficult, Important Decisions

Life is what happens. Today’s story.

We have had custody of my great nephew since he was 4months, adopted at 4 years. He is now 7. His mom (my niece) comes in and out of our lives and they have a good, but not always consistent, relationship. This week she has been in a horrific car accident and has significant injuries. Currently she is alive but critical. Her partner died.

My question specifically for adoptees. Would you have wanted to see your mother in the hospital like this? My wife thinks it would be too traumatic and upsetting for him. I think he is old enough to remember her and (though I agree would likely be traumatic) would regret not having a chance to see her. We hope this isn’t goodbye but it is very unstable and I want to make a decision before we no longer have a choice.

Reality – You need to tell him, brace him for how bad it is AND TAKE HIM. HE MAY BE WHAT GIVES HER THE FIGHT TO COME THROUGH THIS.

On the other hand – let him make the decision. It is HIS life. HOWEVER, if she is mangled, disfigured and doesn’t look recognizable to the person he knows, then I would caution against it or wait for an open casket. That way she can still look like the person he knows. As an adoptee, I wouldn’t want to see a disfigured/unrecognizable version of her. I’d want to remember her as she was in my life. There’s no need to add more trauma to his history.

A trusted voice affirms – you know the right answer. Tell him what happened and that you will take him to his mother immediately. Yes, it will be upsetting, but you can’t rewind life. If she passes, regret and guilt can be even harder. Just before you get there, prep him for what to expect – machines, wires etc.

An adoptee adds – There are no do-overs in life, only I wish I hads… do not over protect them both to the point of not allowing him to live his own truth, bear his own sadness and deal with grief in whatever way he must, but also to have whatever memory he could have, so that he has proper closure, if that indeed is what happens in the end.

And I didn’t know about these support persons but glad I do now – LINK>Certified Child Life Specialists are educated and clinically trained in the developmental impact of illness and injury. Their role helps improve patient and family care, satisfaction, and overall experience.

From direct life experience – I lost my mom at age 7, due to injuries she suffered in a car accident. That resulted in my being raised under legal guardianship. I still would have given anything to have been able to see her/say goodbye.

Reunion Questions

If at 17 years old, adopted from foster care with no contact with your birth mother your entire life but now with an opportunity to ask some questions . . .

What would you as this adoptee ask your birth parents ? If you have been through such a reunion, what were the questions that you thought, in hindsight, weren’t helpful to potentially building a relationship ?

Some responses –

Ask for the family medical history. This one is one of the more important ones. This is what drove my mom to try and find her original mother and/or obtain her adoption file.

Ask how many biological siblings you have. This one lets you know if you are the only child of your birth parents or did they go on to have other children, maybe through a remarriage to someone who was not your original father as well.

Ask for the reason they chose whatever decisions they had in their power to make that led to you ending up in foster care. This one could be a tricky one, it may lead to defensiveness or in the best possible situation, at least regret, and even better, ultimately to a radical change in lifestyle.

If they relinquished for adoption, did they decide to do that early on at the beginning of the pregnancy or at the last moment just before birth or just after ? In both of the cases of my adoptee parents relinquishments, it appears that their original mothers actually tried very hard to keep their first born child, and in the case of my mom, the only child born to her mother.

Ask who your biological father was. Does she know how to contact him ?

On a sweeter, more intimate note (I know this was the kind of information I yearned for related to my mom’s mother that finally at the end of most of my discovery journey, I finally received from my mom’s cousins, the daughter’s of her youngest uncle, who were about my age) – ask her what her favorite foods are, what is her favorite color. Ask about her childhood memories and ask her to tell you something about her extended family members.

One says – “I really wanted to look at my birthmother, hear her voice, and look at her handwriting. Basically I wanted to see if I could find that mirror of who I am.” This is the personal connection many adoptees crave. I do believe my mom yearned for these kinds of experiences. I now have the adoption file that was denied her and one of the treasures are two examples of her personal writing, a post card and a brief letter (though I also have her signature on the surrender papers).

Another interesting perspective that I saw even with my mom who wanted something, though my dad claimed not to want it at all – it is a strange juncture for any adoptee to arrive at, when been raised by people with whom the adoptee has not genetic or biological connection but who were the actual parents and sibling’s in the childhood family –

I told them that I was not ready for a full relationship with them. I wanted them to know I was alive and wanted them to know I had an amazing childhood. My mom told me that as a mother, she would want to know that everything turned out okay for her child. In one case, the biological father started calling the adoptee, “daughter.” He was buying her things and saying “I Love You.” This made her feel very uncomfortable and so, she asked that he not do those things anymore. For this adoptee, she was not his daughter. Happily, he accepted her boundaries. She shares the rest of the story going forward – they are now Facebook friends. Today he is a little more involved in my her daily life. We talk by phone from time to time. She admits that she still does not have the feelings towards him that a raised biological child would (though some of my friends do not have good relationships in adulthood with their genetic, biological family today).

And sadly, this is always a possibility – “I’ve reached out to my birth mom and have been shut out – no answers to my questions. No desire for a relationship.” Yet, there is something you can do in this situation to bring you closure and comfort. Write a letter. Tell her everything you want her to know about you, your childhood, who you are now as a person. In this way, you end feeling you said everything you needed to say.

No Choice

There are so many ways adoptees experience a life that they had no choice in. Beginning with their adoption, especially if they were too young to have a say, which the majority are consummated when the child is too young to be given a say.

There are also situations where a mother gave up one or more children when she was young. She then subsequently remarried and had more children in that stable union. So it was in a story I was reading today.

The adoptee in this story had a no-contact failed reunion and was re-rejected in her attempt by her birth mother. The two children relinquished found each other in adulthood. While the father who knew about the surrendered children had died, their children had not been told about these half-siblings.

This adoptee became aware of her genetic, biological family thanks to DNA matching. The extended family she discovered have proven to be lovely, considerate, sensitive and good people. However, the subsequent children who were birthed by this woman’s original mother, who are all adults and have known about these two other children for a couple of years now, don’t acknowledge them or treat them as anything other than shameful embarrassments and inconveniences, a response modeled by their mother.

The mother contracted cancer and subsequently died of the complications. Before she died, she sent this woman a birthday card, accompanied by a handwritten letter expressly stating that she should not to come to her mother’s funeral. It was hurtful for her to say that she “only wanted people who loved her there.”

She never gave these two relinquished children a chance to love her and piling on their wounds, rejected them again as adults. In fact, they didn’t even know she was dying. When this woman died, none of her subsequent children told them anything about the arrangements. So neither of these two attended her funeral but at the last minute did send a wreath. They hoped to be at the least mentioned at her funeral, or in her eulogy or at her cremation but the purposeful silence continued.

Finally, the day after her funeral, her oldest son set up a What’sApp group with him, her brother and this woman and so, there was a video call. He was very matter of fact and explained about her death. He asked if they had any questions. Mostly the call was simply made to justify how he was carrying out their mother’s wishes. These wishes were extensive – excluding them from knowing anything about her deterioration, prognosis, hospitalization, palliative care, imminent death nor were they to be told about her dying or the funeral arrangements. This son admitted that he did think she was wrong to demand that,

This story takes place in Ireland and they have a “month’s memory mass.” Her name will be called out in her church as a mark of respect at her recent passing. It’s a tradition for family to attend at this mass that takes place four weeks after the passing of a loved one. She writes that her brother has to work but her husband will be there to be supportive. She says – “I have as much right to be there as any of them. Being banned from her funeral doesn’t mean I can’t go to this mass in her church. I need to be there to show they haven’t broken me and to have some closure. I also feel it would be a show of defiance to them for ostracizing us so blatantly.”

I totally agree with her and support this decision !!

When A Parent Dies

When a parent dies, children can end up with strangers – either in foster care or through adoption. At one time as my husband and I were rewriting our trust documents, having learned about the realities of a foster care system that sends a young person out the door with no resources at the age of 18, we made provisions to lower the age at which our children could access the financial accounts we had created for them. Originally, we were more concerned about immature mismanagement of the funds. From this new awareness, we realized those funds might be critical to our children’s survival, if they lost us.

Losing a parent at any age can be life changing but losing a parent while still in childhood robs the child of important supports going forward. Death is absolute, so no well-meaning person can change that reality. If there is no other person – another parent, grandparent or extended family willing to step in – then child welfare and the courts step in.

Even for a young child, closure is necessary, even if understanding is lacking. Death is an important and natural part of life. Whenever possible, there should be an opportunity to be with someone in death, who has meant something to you in life. It is true, it can be a traumatic shock the first time one sees a dead person but it is also instructive. The intimacy of “saying goodbye” before a burial can help heal a young person’s loss, all the way into adulthood.

Even adult adopted children can be very wounded by being deprived of experiencing the death of their loved one. When my mom tried to get her adoption file from the state of Tennessee in the 1990s, she was rejected (she was a Georgia Tann adoptee). More devastating than the rejection was learning that her mother had already died and that door to connect with her forever closed.

Never deny a child this opportunity. Think about it – who wouldn’t go to their parent’s funeral, regardless of age? The reality is that it will hurt. That is death. Every child (adopted, in foster care or otherwise) deserves a chance to say goodbye.