Adopted in Life

                        “What? You’re adopted? I never would have thought that!” That has been a statement that I have heard my entire life. Yep, I am adopted and I have known all my life that I was adopted and no it does not make me less of my parent’s child. That about sums it up right there, the conversations that I have had all my life about being adopted. I can understand that people are amazed and fascinated by the idea that my brother and I are adopted after all we resemble our parents in the fact that we are all white. I think that for years people just guessed that we were biological since we were white and other people they knew that were adopted or had adopted might have been of a different race. So yes, we are both adopted and we have both known all of our lives. In fact when I was around two years old I would tell people that I was “adapted.” I didn’t have the foresight to understand just how powerful that would become in my life; I just knew that I was very special because my mommy and daddy picked me out. 

            Being adopted is one of those life things where you have to adapt. I have had friends and acquaintances that were adopted, hated the idea, and rebelled against it in everyway possible. Then I know those who are like my brother and I who have always known, adapted to the situation and love the fact that we were chosen. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that our parents never hid the fact from us, they were always very open and honest about that meant. As young children we had no idea what it meant other than mom and dad went to a place, saw us, liked us, paid for us, and here we were one big happy family. As we got older we realized they didn’t exactly pick us out per say and they didn’t buy us but that was okay too, we were still theirs. So as one big happy family we have moved around a lot, we have made new friends, seen new places, and told everyone we were adopted. That was our story.

            I tell you this because I think people have a misconception about adoption and what makes a family. Sure neither my brother nor I are biologically my parents, but we are theirs in every way that counts. Growing up I never thought I looked like either of my parents because I was dark haired, my skin was very tan (sadly after getting diagnosed with MS my skin has turned pasty white-it’s very strange), and I was round in shape. As I have gotten older though people have started to tell me I resemble either my mom or dad, it depends on which parent I am with. I think it’s sweet when people have told me that, I usually laugh and tell them I am adopted and they can’t believe it. Now to see my brother, he definitely doesn’t look like either of my parents but he looks so much like my mom’s dad (Poppa) it is scary. That is funny thing about adoption; majorities of the people I know that are adopted take on characteristics of their adoptive family in some way. Even children who are not the same race as their parents start to take on features of their parents or their parent’s families, it is a really cool thing to see. Take a moment if you know someone who is adopted and really look at him or her against his or her adoptive family, you will see it. Most of the time they won’t see or their families won’t see it because they are too close to the situation but the resemblance is there, it would be a great case study for someone.

            Anyways, this isn’t about academia it is about being adopted and how even though we aren’t biologically our parents, we seem to be becoming more and more like them each day. I always found it funny when people would tell me they were never going to be like their parents, I wanted to be like mine. In fact I am having more and more moments where either my mom or my dad comes straight out of my mouth and boy when I hear it I crack up. I think because I had such a reliable, stable upbringing it never occurred to me to not want to be like my parents when I grew up. Sure there are things I might do differently if I were to have kids, not sure what those would be, I’d have to think really hard about it, but overall I am fine with becoming like my parents. In fact I take it as a compliment when someone tells me they see either of my parents in me. 

            The major thing that I think people don’t realize about adoption is just how much ones personality is nurtured in the family. There are things about my personality and my brother’s personality that are vastly different from our parents, but in every other way, man my parent’s personalities flow through us. The funny thing is when I was younger it would be a fight between mom and I about what I was going to wear, how much cheap jewelry I could wear, and what I was going to do with my hair. She had in her mind a specific way she wanted me to look, and boy I had a way I wanted look and we would butt heads like crazy. Finally as I got older she realized she couldn’t win that battle and for the most part has let it go. Every now and then she will comment about my clothes or hair but I just let it slide because I know she loves me and doesn’t want anyone to talk about me or hurt my feelings over how I look. I don’t care what anyone thinks though, so I am good to go with it, I just know she’s doing it out of love for me. 

            Other than that one issue we really didn’t have a lot of mother-daughter arguments, in fact we bonded over a lot of things that we still like today. Our taste are similar in some ways and some ways not, but they compliment each other and we know just what the other likes. Where her and I differ is our personality in dealing with people. Her and my brother are so much alike in this manner it is scary. They both always want to see the good in the others, they are quick to forgive, and they will talk to anyone, and give anyone the shirt off their back. Dad and I on the other hand are more reserved, we don’t always see the good in others, and I don’t forgive easily at all. Dad was better at that than I was but I attribute that to him being a preacher, or maybe just a better, more enlightened human than I am at the moment. Dad and I don’t have to talk to anyone, we can just be silent, and we can just exist in our own thoughts and not pay attention to those around us. 

            My brother and I are always teasing my mom about how she always knows people wherever we go, how she always talks to people wherever she is, and how she could make friends with a brick wall. I have come to realize though, my brother is just like her, and he will talk to anyone and everyone. In fact if he sees someone he knew twenty years ago, he would go up to that person and just start talking to them like he saw them yesterday. He is just like my mother in that way. Not me, if I have not had contact with you in the last several years, I am not going out of my way to speak to you. We can just keep on moving in our separate lives and directions. Dad was like that too, but he could never be as open about it as I was since he was a preacher and people would always come up to him to talk. Anytime we would go out to eat mom would point out people to us that her and dad knew, she would speak and dad would stay at the table eating his food or talking to us. She would come back to the table with their life story and tell dad he needed to speak and he would always give her the same answer, “okay in a minute.” Which was he was way of saying; no he wasn’t going to speak because he didn’t have anything to say. 

That was the wonderful thing about dad, if he spoke it was because he had something to say in that moment. I think that is what helped him be such an amazing minister to so many. When he spoke he just commanded that you listen, it was never in a way that was harsh or mean, he just didn’t share a lot or talk a lot so when he did it would mean something. He was very much the strong silent type, except for those few occasions when he was with very close family and friends where he would let loose just a little, crack some jokes, tell some stories, and let you in on who he was. Those that got that glimpse are a lucky few and I am so thankful that I have been witness to many of those occasions. 

            Being adopted has never really been my defining moment; it was the family that adopted me that defined who I have become. I am the woman I am today because two people felt called to have a family any way they could and that way just happened to be adoption. I have never felt like I wasn’t Ron and Prissy Sumners’ daughter, they are my parents, my lifeline, and my inspiration. I love my brother like we were born from the same people, there has never been a doubt in my mind that he is my brother and he will be long into eternity. Adoption is just the method in which we became this amazing, crazy, chaotic, fun, and most of all loving family. God knew what he was doing when He gave my brother and I to our parents. He knew what we were going to become, how we would be shaped through them, and most of all how because of them we would come to know Him. My brother and I are blessed beyond measure because we are family. I am thankful each and every time I see a glimpse of mom or dad in either one of us, it lets me know that we are truly family from now until forever. There is no way we would be who we without them, we are what defines family.