Monday, December 21, 2009

~~Makes Sense~~

A friend asked me how I came about realizing that my new career should be one of private investigations and research, after all, she knew I was really struggling in my feeling of "lack of purpose."

I was struggling.  I kept reading "More" magazine, the magazine targeted toward women of a "certain age."  I read each issue full of stories of women who are "reinventing themselves" and finding purpose again...or possibly for the first time in life.  

Rather than finding inspiration in the pages, I actually felt depressed.  How can these women become so successful and I can't find a job, a "real" client (everyone loves my ideas and coaching, but no one loves to pay), or purpose.

I moved to a new state...which may as well be a new country because the business/social atmosphere out here is worlds different than Texas.  The economy tanked. And I was wondering around aimlessly.  Not my style.

I was indeed struggling.  And then I took time away from the struggle and away from the state to visit my friend Anne in Kansas City.  She encouraged me to find my birth mother.  And unwittingly inspired my new passion.  Since I've started my search quest, I realized that I have a real knack and patience for sifting through documents and putting pieces of human puzzles together.

By taking a VACATION from the struggle, my new purpose came to ME.  I was chasing an invisible goal.  

Since taking the training, I have already helped many people in ways that were just a hope for them.  


My education, experience, ability to connect with people in a safe way, my patience and persistence makes my new vocation make sense.


So...maybe the moral of the story is to stop struggling and stop searching.  Keep your heart, mind and eyes open so that when the opportunity/answer presents itself, you are squarely prepared.  And one more thing can only help: FAITH!



Wednesday, December 16, 2009

~~Forgiveness~~

Is forgiveness wasted on the innocent?

For my entire life, I dreamed of the day I would look at my mother...for the first time...and tell her that I forgive her.

Now...everything I thought I knew about my life...isn't.  

I can't forgive my mother for abandoning me.  She didn't.  

This really sucks because I still suffer from abandonment issues...and wasn't even abandoned.  Someone stole my mother from me. 


What are these issues called?



~~Life is Not an Oprah Show~~

Life is not an Oprah Show.  And not every reunion is tear-jerking, heart-freeing episode.

Some people don't want to be found.  Some people want to move forward and never look back.  Some people start new lives and do not share their former lives with the new people in their new life.

I often thought, "What if my mother just wants to forget her awful stint with my father? What if she just ran away?"  He is a beast.  I know that. I barely survived with him. I would never blame her if she had run away.  I did, too!

Then I thought, "What if she has a new life with a new person?  What if she never told him about her previous life?"  I would never want to interject myself into someone's life that could create terrible disruption and perhaps destruction.

I always said, "The only reason I would ever really want to find my birth mother would be to tell her that I don't blame her for running from him.  I want her to know that I forgive her for abandoning me. After all, she was just a child."

I want my mother to know that she gave birth to a compassionate soul. 











~~Guilt~~

Normally, I feel that guilt (and blame) have no place in living a good and productive life. However, the guilt I am feeling is nearly overwhelming.

My current guilty feelings stems from the fact that I did not aggressively pursue answers for my mother earlier in life.  Did I want to?  Yes.  Did I think about her? Yes.  In fact, every birthday and every mother's day I ever lived has been ruined with abandonment issues.

Every birthday and mother's, I was consumed with "How could a mother do this?  Why did she abandon me?  Where is she?  Why doesn't she come find me?"

And now I am wracked with guilt that I didn't find HER.  I know I wouldn't have found her, but the answers would have come sooner and maybe she could have rested better and sooner.  

Then again, maybe she never will.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

~~Proceed with Caution~~

As I move down the road of learning about people and becoming a skip tracer, I need to proceed with caution.

"Finding out" about people, events and situations can be like fire--it can warm the  heart or it can burn the soul.  Maybe both.  I am living the paradox. 

Once we know something, we own it forever.

I am helping people answer yet unanswered questions in their lives.  I must continually ask myself...and my "clients" the questions, "When is enough enough?  When shall we stop?  Do we stop?  Do we let go?  Or to we dig until all the shit is uncovered once and for all?"  

These are questions that must be asked and answered continuously.  

Example:  I "found" the father of a woman recently.  Turns out that he is not only a rapist, but a murderer...several times over.  Did we need to know that?  Did we need to find the picture of him holding his prisoner identification number?  

Perhaps...but best to proceed with caution....

~~Are some things better left unknown?~~

Can a person know too much?  Are some things left better left unknown?

I haven't had any more help or leads about my mother. It is a upsetting, as I seem to be the only one that cares about her or her soul. I need to go to her in person.

However, I am as certain...even more certain...than ever that my father murdered my mother.  That was the deep dark secret that the family held close all these years.

It explains so many oddities I witnessed in my early life.  It explains his becoming a hermit, never having anyone to the house...ever.  It explains the utter isolation in which I lived for my entire childhood. I was never allowed to have friends or to have sleepovers.  I was never allowed to go to friends' houses, either.  It explains his over-reactions whenever I inquired about my birth mother.  It explains his threats of violence when others inquired about my mother's whereabouts.

It explains his complete, vile behavior as I was growing up.  

Yes. I am certain that he did it.  I do know it.  Things aren't left unknown.  

I know.  And I am better off knowing.  

 

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

~~Connection~~

I looked on the internet for "support groups" for people with situations like mine.  How do you even begin to find others whose father murdered their mother when they were a child?  Is there even a name for it?  

I found support groups for people who have lost their parents, their spouses, their children, their limbs, their marriages, their spirits and others who have lost their way.  

No one seems to be "out there" for us.  And then came Lacey.  (Not her real name, unless she give me permission.)  I don't know how she found me, but she did.  And I am grateful.  She is the other person in my two-person support group.

Here was may latest email response to Lacey:

I think my father broke my mother's neck and threw her in a mine shaft.  I truly BELIEVE this.  The only thing that will "prove" it would be for someone to strong arm him so hard that he fesses up.  How sad is this?? 

I don't know your experience, but to have BELIEVED (because your father told you) that your mother abandoned you, threw you away and didn't love you creates such childhood wounds that are never to be healed. 

Then, much later in life, to discover that she never had a chance to love you is DEVASTATING.

You still have to deal with the wounds and lasting conditions of abandonment.  But in ADDITION, it crashes and burns everything you thought you knew.

It is strangely comforting to connect with someone who "gets it."

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

~~Active, Aching Buzz~~

The white hot pain of my reality has morphed into an active, aching buzz.  When I look right at the situation, the pain is too intense to feel...like wanting to feel the heat of the fire, but the pain makes you pull back.

I am quite frustrated about the lack of information and help.  No one cares, it seems, and really, that is understandable.  I need to go to the area of my mother's birth and youth to knock on doors.  She must have had friends and/or family that would know her or about her.




Net/net: I must find the truth...for her.