Most of the readers of this blog know that I was adopted. When I was 27, I met my biological mother, and that was the first time I learned anything about the minds and bodies of the people whose DNA I inherited.
Growing up without a biological "model" for yourself has its challenges, but overall I'd say it's a net win. Face it... there's a reason many kids fantasize about suddenly discovering they're adopted.
One of the unanticipated side-effects of meeting my biological mother, and learning about her and about my biological father, was that I suddenly had genetic models where none had existed before. Growing up, it seemed that most of what made me fundamentally "me" just appeared. Up until then I had been (I assumed) a creation of my own invention. Whatever natural physical ability I had was just "me". My musical ability: I had been interested and just gone ahead and done it. Mom and Dad didn't listen to music, much less play it. I did it of my own accord and owed none of my accomplishments to anyone but myself!
Obviously I knew that there were biological forces at work which, for me, were just remaining behind the scenes. Still, without physical tokens reinforcing the fact on a daily basis, it was easy to view myself as a an independent free-agent, rather than the product of two mortals.
Then, at age 27, I met Paula, my biological mother, and learned that she was musical, and that my biological father played guitar (my instrument) quite well. I met one his best childhood friends, who commented that I carried myself the way my biological father did, that we even water-skied the same way.
All of a sudden I couldn't take "credit" for any of the positive natural abilities I had enjoyed throughout my life. Now the person I had worked so hard to become had less to do with the force of my own will, or my hard work, than with genetic predisposition. It really wiped out much of what I had thought to be "me".
I've been speculating a lot lately about what our son will think of us, what he'll see when he really takes a look. I have to ask myself: might our son be better off as I was, not having a parent as an approximation of what he can expect as he grows up and grows older?
For example, I spent most of my youth and adult life confidently believing that I could eat whatever I liked and would never need to worry about my diet. People had told me so. Hell, less than two years ago my new doctor himself told me I could eat whatever I liked. I was very surprised to hear that from anyone in the medical profession!
Today, two years later, I went back to that doctor for a physical and learned that I've put on 16 pounds since that first visit. My doctor has rescinded my dietary carte blanch, ending a gaudy, epic, 42 year run of pure freedom. At least it didn't happen 'til after Thanksgiving.
So I'll either work at it and stay relatively trim, or I'll grow larger. One or the other. I'll probably also get glasses some day because, face it, most of us do when we grow older (Paula has!). And our son, poor kid, will witness all this—and perhaps much worse—and someday put it together than what happened to me has a fair chance of eventually befalling him as well.
When I was a boy (and even when I was an adult) I had no reason to believe I'd ever need glasses, no matter what my adopted parents needed, and to hell with what most people needed... I wasn't most people, I was a genetic island, with no indication anywhere that I would be anything but perfect throughout my entire life! That's a great feeling, and I don't know if our boy can ever experience it with me around. At least not with the abandon I did.
Mary and I aren't perfect by any means, but we're both lucky to have good health, good metabolisms, and a fair accumulation of natural abilities. I'm happy our boy will probably inherit many of these good things, but a piece of me wishes he could have the luxury I did, of believing that he simply summons whatever natural gifts he has from thin air, by force of his own will! And I wish I could spare him the preview of watching what happens to me as I age. However lucky I've been, I'm only human, and when I was a kid with no biological roadmap I was happy to believe that I was superior to mere humans, with their tendencies to end up just like their parents. None of that predetermination for me thanks, I'll take pure potential instead!
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