Paul's Heart

A Tree With No Roots

I have no problem amusing myself.  Because my health often does not allow me to remain in one position for too long of a time, I often have many “irons in the fire.”  A recent project I have started up again, is my family lineage.  My father had given me documentation just before his passing, which allowed me to trace back nearly 150 years of his side of the family.

I did not know that much about my mother’s side of the family.  In spite of having a family tree project in school, information on the paternal side of my mother’s family was sparse.  I was able to go back several generations on the maternal side.

Until recently.  A project started by a cousin on my maternal father’s side has sparked a new interest for me.  There is actually information about that part of the family that I had not known previously.  There is some information that confirmed what I did know already.

I did not get to know my maternal grandfather very long as he passed just passed my first birthday.  All I knew about him was how I was drawn to him.  Now I know why.  As his obituary shows, he loved music.  I recall hearing an actual vinyl recording of him singing “The Battle Hymn Of The Republic.”  From that point, I was hooked into music.

From church choirs to school choruses and chorales, competitions, symphony choruses, cover bands, and karaoke, I found my place in music, singing.  I did also further music studies, including guitar and piano.

Music would take a bigger part of my life, during my battle with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

Have you ever heard a song that pops into your head, and automatically your mind takes you back to a specific time or place?  Mine used to take me back to fun memories such as an amusement park, or maybe an ice cream shop.  But because I spent so much time in a chemotherapy suite, I listened to a lot of music to get me through my treatments.  During my recovery and rehab, I listened to even more.

This is when I realized music was not only fun, but had healing potential as well.  Now, my singing also plays a pivotal role in assisting with my pulmonary rehab, a lot more fun than using the spirometer thingy I have.

But the best thing, my daughters have the appreciation of music as well.  And like me with my grandfather, they have heard me sing as well.

Anyway, it was during this search, I not only confirmed where I got my interest in music, but also shined a light on the other side of the family that I did not really know.  It was interesting and exciting.  Always looking for more grown up things to talk about with my daughters, I saw this as a good one.  And then it hit me.

With my daughters being adopted, there are moments that I have learned, extra sensitivity and attention are needed.  And this was one of those moments.  It is one thing to be adopted domestically.  There would be some glimmer of hope, if it was desired to trace and find where someone came from.  But being internationally adopted, there is a “needle in a haystack” chance of discovering this information.  My excitement could easily cause heartache, and I do not want that.

A favorite television show of mine growing up was “I Dream Of Jeannie.”  Typical story.  Someone rubs the lamp, a genie pops out… yada yada yada.  In this series however, the genie stays.  One episode had “Jeannie”, the main character, sad, because she did not know when her birthday was.  And due to that sadness, she had begun to physically fade away.  In spite of all her happiness that she had with her “master” and eventual husband, the lack of knowledge of her birthday proved powerful enough, it needed to be found.

This has always stuck in my mind with my daughters.  And up to this point, I have actually taken several steps to help them, should they ever decide that they would like to see if they could trace their past, perhaps even find their birth parents.  Research and investigations provided me with information on caregivers, foster parents, and locations.  My daughters are now aware that the information exists, should they decide that they want to go further.

And I have given them both my word, if they do decide to pursue finding their origins, I will do all in my power to help them both.  It won’t be easy.  But who knows what can happen in a decade or two?

But at this point, there is no reason to risk any kind of hurt to my daughters, with my research on my family from a geneology standpoint.  But on the family tree, they are on there, and so will their children, and so on.