Down to the Roots

Ta da! I’m adopted!

Believe it or not, this is not my first time writing about adoption. Somewhere in the desolate, forgotten land that is my Drafts tab there is a pretty interesting blog post all about it. It might surface one of these days, but for now I feel like writing about my recent adventure to connect with my biological family.

This visit actually amounted because of said blog post. But it was also way over do. I don’t care whether you’re adopted or not, a person should never go more than a year without seeing their family. I think it had been about 3 or 4 since I’d seen them, which won’t happen again.

So there I was, on a mission! One, to not die on the airplane. Two, to understand where I come from and get to know the people waiting in the wings.

I feel like it was more pressing that I go on this journey to others than to me. I just wanted to spend time with them. As it was an open adoption, I’ve known the important details my whole life. My mom loves me dearly, my dad sucks, and they wanted me to grow up in Suburbia. Done. But this weekend was so much more than a meet and greet. It was looking at pictures of lives I missed out on, seeing firsthand the world I would have lived in, and finally coming to peace with my own life.

I’ve spent my week contemplating the odds and ends of my situation. I understand God’s idea now. I had to grow up here. It’s not because of my temperament, because I’m not sure I would have been any less positive than I am now. It’s because if I had grown up in my hometown, I wouldn’t have met my sweetheart or found Sam Houston. The people I know now, the family I’ve planted myself in; they would all go on without me just like I would go on without them. It all had to happen, and it will continue as it should, with my bridge to both families.

However, there is still a nagging feeling to know the girl I would have been. I’ve always been a curious stickler for the details, so I can’t help but wonder. If I met her on the street would we be friends? What kind of music would she listen to? Christian, like her mother? Would she enjoy writing as much as I do? Or painting? Or even Theatre? Living in a northern Texas city, would I have a different taste in men? I admire the way they hold onto God and his precious mercy. It inspires me now, and I know it would have inspired me before. They insist I wouldn’t be as sweet as I am, but I know deep down that’s not true. I don’t know what trials I would have been through had I lived there, but it hasn’t been smooth sailing my whole life, and I’m still me. But I’ll never know. It won’t ever be answered in a final manner.

Even with the ghost of the girl lost in transition, I learned so much! Like the fact that I have 4 different types of indian in my ancestry, and my great-grandfather or uncle was a 7 ft Irishman! Now I know who to blame for my height!

Now, all I can do is get better acquainted with the other side of my family and make up for the time missed. I know I’ll go back to that flat, beautiful city, and there will be many more happy experiences with them.

My Dreams Will Be Reality

30 topic Challenge: Day 15- Your dream future!

I’m at this point in my life where I’m expected to have everything planned out….but I’m also at this point in my life where I have no idea what the heck I’m doing. Normal? Maybe? Sound like you at 19?

I could sit here and dream for hours going through the little bursts of excitement I send to my boyfriend when I think of something I want in the future. I could dream up the most spectacular, impossible future for myself (and maybe the current beaux). And, boy, would it be a fun waste of a work day! I dream of a lot of things, but I’ve also been a realist on the side. That Shelby keeps Dreamer Shelby in line. So, all future plans are within reach, and probably have somewhat of a road to get there. The catch? I have many…many….roads. This is my young adult crisis. 

At this point in life, all I want to do is travel. Why waste your life behind a desk when you have 7 Wonders and 50 Billion Nations to explore? Even domestically, every state in the US is different than its border buddies. I’d rather be well rounded through my travels than my mathematical studies. (notice how I keep bashing math in many of my posts? Do you feel my hatred yet?) My dream would be to travel and write my blog. It would be lovely if someone would pay me to do so.. 😀

But what about settling down? Kids? Family time? How will I get money? I used to adamantly support women entering the work force. I still do, to some extent. My feminist fire demands equality, but also realizes equality means a choice. Women are free to choose to stay home, and that doesn’t make them  burden on the feminist society in any way. Their rebel choice actually propels our cause and the human race forward more than someone would think. They’re paving the way for an easier, less “box-ey” working life style. One of these women will probably be me. gasps and shock everywhere! I’ve come to the conclusion that my artwork is more than just a hobby in my eyes. It’s pretty much all I want to do. I want to be like Allie from The Notebook, where she wakes up and spends her days leisurely painting. (forget painting in the nude. Too modest for that, Allie.) Then again, that was during a time when women didn’t exactly work unless they couldn’t afford being a single income family. Regardless, I’m inspired to progress my painting and writing/blogging to a new level.

Another road, and the longest in terms of preparation; becoming a theatre teacher. I haven’t exactly announced it, but I have decided to stay away from teaching for a district. I have no interest in re-entering the school system, so should I continue down this road, it will be towards a community theatre setting. This school year will test my passion for theatre and whether or not I’m willing to spend that much time producing that form of art. I still have a dear love for the stage, but I have so much more I want to spend my time with, that it might be set on the back burner for a while.

You might read this and think I’ll spend my life being poor. Or that I’ll have to marry rich. No thank you! My determination is all I need. I won’t settle for a little house or small apartment unless I begin a phase where I adore cottage-like homes. Trust me, it might happen. The big mansions aren’t really my forte either. I mean, I already have trouble decorating my apartment bedroom, and you want me to furnish 50 rooms? Are you kidding me? Who needs 10 couches? My enormous wealth will be distributed elsewhere.

Where, you ask? Horses. Ranch property. Beach property. Maybe a ranch on the beach. Oh, that would be lovely! I’ve always wanted to ride a horse down the beach! That would be my dream home. A modest, but stylish home smack dab in the center of acres full of animals, with an ocean view from my bedroom. (Take notes, boyfriend. This is your mission) My list of pets would include a few cats for the house, 2 horses for my hubby and me, a few chickens for eggs, maybe a cow, a duck, and a large dog. (Great Dane, German Shepard, I’m not picky.)

Just to sum all of my ranting up, my dream/reality future will include:

1. A living room large enough to put up a tent to camp

2. a loving husband who will stick by my through everything and support me in my stupid adventures (I think I scored already, we’ll see)

3. Everything my children will need to grow up to have a good head on their shoulders

4. A job that will not seem like a job because I will not be crushed or resent having to wake up in the morning

5. Each of my passions, whether they change or remain the same

6. many cats. Because I’m me.

7. enough space to sit outside and breathe, because I was supposed to be born in the Hippie age, but I decided to wait a few decades for whatever reason.

8. A purpose of breaking down barriers and shining, however that may be achieved.

I don’t have it figured out yet…but does anyone really? One day I’ll be in this scene I’ve just laid out, and I will sit on my porch giggling at the people who thought I couldn’t do it, and reminiscing about whatever road I took to get there.

Next: Day 16: Academics

Early Morning Reflections for the Morbid Soul

By Shelby S. 

I’m so blessed to occasionally be able to listen to the church choir rehearse as I work. This morning the choir congregated to rehearse for the funeral of a beloved church member, and as I listened, I became lost in thought of the awful task of burying a parent.

I’m in awe of the strength and dignity the surviving families have as they sit in the front row and listen to stories, cherished songs, and eulogies.

I’ve only had to bury one close family member, and though I entered life as he began his exit, I deeply felt his absence. My grandmother wore a bright blue suit to her husbands funeral. She repeatedly told me it was alright, that he was no longer here. That this was just a body, not my grandfather. Even though I tried my hardest to embrace this frame of thought, I couldn’t let go of the worldly representation of my grandfather. It only made me sob harder when they closed the casket, because I thought that would be the last time I would see his face before they cremated it. Funerals are horribly morbid.

The point of this random blog post? A realization that I will never be dignified like everyone else. I will be that insane girl moaning and wailing at the foot of the casket. Which will you be?

Musical Inspirations: 

It Is Well With My Soul – sung by our sanctuary choir

Breezeblocks – AltJ