adoption
Adoption proves that sometimes, you can choose your family; all about the process before, during and after adoption.
Love Letters to Anne
An adventure: One day, on a Saturday, my best friend and I decided to go hiking up the mountains outside of the little town named Itri in Italy. Our hike took us about two miles outside the town up the valley to the sports complex. It had several soccer and baseball fields, and they were on different levels that had been carved out of the mountain.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
At sixteen, I had a job working for a local movie theater. The closest person I worked with was a box office clerk. I remember him well; tall, about a year or so older than me, and even though I only saw him at work, we liked each other and got along well during the breaks in between the rushes that came for the new releases.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
So, we were adrift, staring at the same sky in the night…wondering about each other…only our homesickness to guide us. We were going to have a party. I was going to drink until I found sweet Abyss. But something else happened that night. My friend who was with us, he got into the vodka and drank about 3/4 of the bottle. I decided to watch over him as he got sick and flailed about the room in his stupor.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
It went on like this for awhile. And then, one day, it seemed like I was getting stable again. Establishing a good routine and a good family life. Living with my girlfriend in a good neighborhood it seemed. Things normalized a bit. I had a good job where I was learning and challenged I was happy to a degree. But there was still a nagging feeling that was driving a nail into the back of my brain.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
Bear with me as I oscillate. I’m going through these memories and emotions in a raw and honest way. The only way I know how. I’m speaking my truth and the facts about all these feelings bubble up in a very non-linear way. Anyway, bear with me.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
Blood and love. These things are what drove me. Belief in them pushed me further. But it was a rough road travelled. You see, my experience with love, both in a family setting, and in a romantic setting, was fraught with negativity and poison. Every love I've had had been toxic. It's what I knew, what I was raised in and eventually emulated. Now, don't misunderstand, I'm not blaming my past for failed marriages, or bad relationships, but it is where I learned all these things in a normative environment, meaning it's what was there. No real examples or even conversations about what healthy love would look like. And all I ever wanted, desperately in fact, was to be loved, to feel that love, and to return that love. But this was missing, so I searched it out in other ways.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
There was a time it seems to me, before the arguments and fighting, I can recall being content, if not happy. Friends and a semblance of security for a time but those times were not frequent, and even in the best of times I was empty, though distracted.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
I can't stress enough how important it was that he offered for me to live with him, and that I accepted it. In a quick nutshell, this time was a time of growth and stability for awhile that we had made ourselves. Carved out of the rock with our own hands. Still something festered in me. I could not escape it, and he has always been there. Especially then.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
Love Letters to Anne
So I had let go of everyone. No one was reliable or stable and I was alone in this quest. I pushed forward. Now don’t misunderstand me, I know there are some people who were adopted who had a great experience. Who had been given all the tools and love that was necessary, but that’s not my story. That’s not my truth. And I don’t particularly enjoy going over these memories, but it’s necessary to tell the tale in such a way that you understand where I was and how it was. The burden was crippling at times.
By Michael DeMarais4 years ago in Families
