52 Pieces of Me - Part 9

One of the challenging parts of being adopted is not knowing your family history. In a lot of ways your history starts with you. Many times I have been to a new Dr and I have to tell them that if I don’t have it then I have no clue about anyone else ever having it. Do I have a family history of heart problems, cancer or diabetes? I have no clue. Another thing that is hard is not knowing your heritage. Growing up I always thought I was French and Indian. I have no idea why I started saying that. Maybe my parents were speculating by my looks. I know my dad called me Pocahontas all the time so I think maybe I got the Indian part from that. Finally in the mid 90’s I met my birth mom and found out I am ½ Norwegian as she is 100% - parents came from Norway – Norwegian. As for the other ½ - well, I guess I will just never know since she didn’t know my dad. Long story for another post – maybe. But at least I am finally grounded with ½ a heritage.

My dad was into tracing the family roots. I supported him in that endeavor but I just couldn’t get real excited about it. I had no genetic ties to these people he was finding. Nice people, I am sure, just not biologically related to me. Maybe someday I will trace my actual family roots. Now that should be both a challenge and interesting.

Until next time, Adios.