by Shawn Dawson

Created on: August 15, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Adoption can be a blessed yet devastating occurrence to anyone involved. The biological parents have to place their child for adoption for various reasons while the adopted child must endure not knowing exactly were they come from or any kind of biological information that may possibly save their life.

Imagine going through life not knowing where you came from; not knowing what medical problems you may develop in the course of your life; not knowing who you look more like. This list is by no means exhaustive. It only scratches the surface of what goes through the minds of adoptees every day.

I should know. I'm one of many adoptees.

This was written to encourage all adoptees to never give up your search for truth...for who YOU are.

I was a decent child. Yes, I got myself into my share of trouble, as every child does, but all in all, I was decent.

One day, not too long after my 21st birthday, I was in my room watching a television show about a volunteer who was fighting the system to adopt a child with Downs Syndrome. In the middle of the show, I hear Mom's voice. "SON?!? COME TO THE TABLE! DINNER'S READY". I hated when she did that. Dinner always seemed to be ready when I was doing something.

I went to the table. Dad was already at his usual spotat the head of the table. Dad was a burlesque manbroad shoulders, almost no hair, and a stern faceone that let you know that he was about business.

I sat down and we ate. Dinnertime was always about eating and family conversation. This time was no different. Dad tried to crack old jokes and Mom, with her short stature and Caribbean complexion, laughed. We talked about the usual things...how our individual days went; bills; school (I was in college); and more of Dad's jokes.

After dinner, as I was taught, I asked to be excused from the table and was granted permission. I went back to my room to finish watching the television show that I was previously engaged in. Just when the show ended, Dad yelled out, "SON?!? Come here for a minute". I couldn't figure that one out. Usually, if Dad called me like that, I was in trouble.

I returned to the dinner table. Mom and Dad were still sitting down. "Sit down, Son", Dad said. I sat with a puzzled look on my face.

"What's up, Dad?"

"Son, I want you to always remember that, no matter what, I love you more than I love myself". Now I was scared.

"Dad, what's going on? Are you ok?" Dad was battling Chronic Kidney Failure and often times was not feeling well.

"I'm fine" he replied.

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