Two weeks ago I ran 2 days in a row. I was on a roll and I had big plans for my training. But, on that Wednesday, I got a call from my sister telling me that my father had passed away. I took the news relatively well. I told her that I was sorry for her loss and then explained that I was at work and that I would call her back later. I thought I was OK. The person who made me was gone, but I had never met him. My immediate thought was that this was not my loss. I felt sad for my sister who was raised by my father and had a relationship with him. I was adopted at the age of seven. I spent several years in foster care prior to my adoption. The very few memories I have of my biological family include my older brother and sister and an older set of twins who I believe I ate peanuts with. These memories do not include my parents. As I left work that day, I thought about the situation. I had made a decision to not meet my father. I felt that I was in control of the situation. It hit me that I never communicated this to him. He had made the same decision. That realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t stop crying. I felt like a child again. An unloved child. This person had made a choice twice in life to not love me. I didn’t really know how to put into words what I was feeling nor did I want sympathy from others so I didn’t really tell too many people of his passing. The people I told were tremendous and reaffirmed my belief in family being more nurture than nature. I talked to my best friend, Shelly whose response was “You take rejection well, Renessa”. I thought that was a little awkward but I got that she was trying to say that I have handled this same situation with another parent before and handled it well. I talked to a fellow adoptee Rebecca who put into words what I was feeling and let me vent. My nephew Bradley said “He missed out on knowing one of the greatest, most intelligent people in the world. You are who you are not because of the people that made or raised you but because you over come everything that comes your way”. How could you not love this boy? He made me cry…When I talked to my sister/friend Theresa, she let me cry like a blubbering baby. No interruptions. Just listened. And talked. And was there. And then I reached out to my counselor friend. She was like The Big Guns. I love her because she is really a great listener and a great counselor. [If you need to talk to someone, her name is Karryl Lindsey of Cornerstone Marriage and Family Counseling in Cleveland Hts., Ohio (216) 320-0440]. After all this support, I felt that I could handle going to the funeral without any emotional outbursts. I drove there alone and while I was on my way, I got a text from my older sister (my biological mother’s daughter) asking was I coming to the funeral. She was there. Waiting for me. To be a support. I appreciated her presence there. The funeral was the usual. What a great man. He truly loved his family. He’s in a better place. I met a sister that I had never met before. I saw a sister that I had only met once before. We have so much in common. We need to try harder to stay in touch. I also met my sister’s three children who were an absolute delight. Yes, even at a funeral these kids were awesome! How is it possible for one person to give birth to two children who are gifted artists? Like truly amazing artists! The two older boys (the artists) are college students and the youngest is an athlete and a musician. All of them are articulate, polite and charming. I saw in the older boys the kind of young man I hope for J1 to become. I decided to write about this because sometimes when we are immediately faced with adversity, we are unable to see that there is a way out, that there are supports available to us and that sometimes, even in bad situations, there can be positive outcomes.