Along with Steph's letter she sent me a copy of her cousin Tanya's book of poems entitled The Tide Clock.
The parents who raised me adopted me at 10 weeks, or at least that's when they first brought me home. I was the third child and second son of my biological mother Nicola or Nicky as she was called. Nicky was very bright, I am told she was an IQ genius. She died unexpectedly, tragically young at age 27. I was two years old.
My parents who raised me, my mom Patty in particular, always used to tell me God gave me to her. Even so, I looked quite different from my adoptive parents and adopted sibling. For starters the three of them are white and I'm, well, some may kindly describe me as swarthy; definitely olive complexion. It's not just by appearance I felt a little like the black sheep. I was at times a very awkward kid. My sense of identity was skewed. Growing up knowing I had been adopted, I had often wondered about my origins.
Steph has been one of the most helpful of all the blood relatives I have connected with. For one I feel we have a genuine kinship. She has been supportive and kept in touch. One of my favorite of her correspondences to me is from December 1, 2013. She wrote:
"Hi there, and Happy Post Thanksgiving! I hope it was a great one. Ours was - had Dan and Ann (my half brother and sister-in-law) and the kids, Ericka and her baby with Jeremy, Jenna and Madi, and Frank's Mom and husband. Aside from wishing you the best during this holiday time, Dan's recent post on a writing from Nikos Kazantzakis's, who was a fav of my mom's, got me thinking about you. She handed all her books down to him as he shared her passion in reading. What flashed through my mind is that she lost much in not knowing you; and you in not knowing her. I know you have your family and life you lived. But I have to tell you, I believe you share that same thirst and passion of literary knowledge. I could be completely wrong, but I don't think so. Her intelligence and wit were above most. I'm going all sentimental here, because I know Nicky missed out as well. Brad, she'd have loved your passion in life and the code you live by. That being said, even though I have not gotten out your way in forever, never think for a moment I don't think of you with love and pride. Whew. I'm on a roll! But ya, I think of you often, and will make my way out there! It's a fricking must! Happy Thanksgiving!"
I was moved to tears by my aunt's words of sentiment.
You know, my life has these funny paradoxes. I don't quite fit into the mold of the family I grew up with. I've been far removed from the family I share blood with. So having someone I've now somewhat known about a third of my life, who lives thousands of miles away in the Lone Star State, let me know they think on me with love and pride ... That speaks to the very core of my heart.
I'm mostly a humble, modest person with occasional bursts of outrageousness. As a mostly optimistic idealist, I envision eventually forging closer ties to my biological family if for nothing more than cementing my ambiguous sense of identity. Such a story is ever so gradually in the works. Though forging those initial ties, discovering the traits and characteristics of my blood relatives, this has been profoundly confirming. So many near lifelong mysteries solved. Where do I get my eyes? My big hook nose? My sense of humor? My zeal? My passion for writing? I see it in photographs of Nicky, hear it in stories from Steph, experience it in expressions from my brother Dan. Connecting these (what may seem trivial to most) dots gives me a greater sense of belonging and knowing more about who I am. For me this is powerful and sacred and deeply appreciated. This is truly one of my life's most generous gifts, which I am entirely grateful for.
So the poetry book my aunt Steph sent me was written by her cousin Tanya. It's called The Tide Clock, pictured as follows.
Tanya's given name was Barbara. Apparently she always hated that name. During her time in Oxford (I'm assuming for study), she formed a tight friendship with a Russian Orthodox family. They inspired her new name, which she legally changed to Tanya.
Tanya speaks five languages and has written in several of them. Her son graduated from Yale and lives in New York. Apparently there are some other brainy folks in our lineage. These blood relatives are from my biological mother's maternal side, the Contos'. From what I understand the Contos' are an aristocratic Greek family.
Apparently Tanya's poems are derived from her life experiences. That's certainly something I can identify with.
Steph is correct to some extent about my literary prowess. It's a more recent enjoyment, and not nearly as intellectual as my brother Dan's. Perhaps if I had had similar influences, I may have been swayed differently. Yet it's ineffective to wonder what if. I am who I am. I've experienced what I've experienced. I'm so inspired to know I have an accomplished relative who has a similar desire to relay and share wisdom.
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