The news of Steve Jobs’ death made me feel that it was just the extra punch in the stomach of a very bad day. But then, I watched his 2005 Stanford University commencement speech.
I discovered so many wonderful things about the man I had admired since my graduate days in 1990 and my first introduction to all things Mac. I already knew he was a man who loved typography and design just as I did. But what I didn’t know was that he was adopted. He was loved just like I had been by two wonderful people who set aside the biology and went with their hearts.
In his speech, it was as though he were speaking directly to me and my day. Some of the words he told me, “Trust in the future … Follow your heart even when it leads you off the beaten path … Start over with the lightness of being a beginner again … Remembering I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered in my life … Death is a destination we all share. Death is the single best invention of life. It’s life’s change agent.”
My mother’s death changed my life, and now, his has also changed my life. Tomorrow will be a new day of discovery, invention and change.
As he said, “Love what you do. Keep looking. Don’t settle.”
My husband was yet again out of town and had been for a while. The girl woke with an earache. The boy was dealing with a middle school transition. The house decided that it needed more repairs and updates. I felt over extended.
As with many families in this country, we are far away from any support system. I rely on a few friends, but I could really use family. At the end my of frustrations, I decided to veg out, watch a little TV. “Ah,” I thought, “Glee.” This clip is from a recent episode where Rachel sees her birth mother again. The birth mother is trying to make things right for Rachel and for her newly adopted child. Let’s just say, it was not what I was expecting.
More and more media are incorporating the adoptive mother and father. The recent Kung Fu Panda movie also highlighted adoption with the main character not knowing his roots. His crane father shows emotions my mother had.
I remember an instance that I wish I could take back. I was a preteen and angry. I wrote my mother a letter that said, “I wish you had never adopted me.” The hurt she felt cannot be erased. That was surely a rough day in motherhood, one I cannot fully understand.
Today, I was wishing for my mother, not the one who gave birth to me, but my real one.