“We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies.”
A restless night; awake too often with this skin issue. If I were a napping person I’d say that one was inevitable today, but I’m not. And I won’t.
Church this morning, then planning this afternoon for a project I’m working on for my granddaughter who is interested in understanding where her ancestors came from. How blessed I am that, where I once knew nothing about my people, I now have more information than many non-adopted people.
Yesterday I sent away a request to receive a copy of my original birth registration–the top-secret one that has the names of my birth parents on it that I’ve been denied all these years. Saskatchewan changed the rules effective January 1 and is now releasing this document to adult adoptees (Unless a birth parent has filed a veto. Don’t get me started on how wrong I believe that loophole to be.)
Anyway, I’m getting it. I already know what it will say but I want a copy of my own. All adoptees should be entitled to have one.