Relief

I love Facebook.

When I was in high school, my cousin came in to our family (not Danielle. I have other cousins. These are actual cousins). She was born in the States to a Russian woman who couldn't afford any more children, and so she made what I think is one of the most selfless decisions one can possibly choose - she gave her up for adoption. And so my cousin - we'll call her Athena - was born. Her new parents (my cousins) were at the hospital when she was delivered. They spoke with her mother. They left the most adorable message on our answering machine telling us what exciting news they had. A daughter! A little girl!! A sweet little baby of their very own, something they had been hoping and praying for and wanting for a long, long time.

Some months later, we went to visit, and I saw, on their refrigerator, a Family Circus cartoon. It was two kids talking, and the one was saying, "I'm really lucky. I got to pick my parents. I'm adopted." I thought this was just the best thing ever.

Four years later, another little Russian girl joined the family. Same situation - my cousins made it to the hospital in a whole different state while our other cousins worked around the clock to get the nursery ready. Same excitement. Same joy. And Aphrodite completed their family.

Aphrodite and Athena were a great addition. They were adorable kids. Athena was really sensitive, sweet, kind of emotional. Aphrodite was generally fearless and funny. They were a lot of fun to visit. And they've grown up into pretty awesome adolescents. I'm excited to know them as women someday.

Strangely, they look a lot like me. I'm half-"xeno" (white person), so my coloring is pretty different from the rest of the family. I was always a sandy blonde, pasty white, blue eyed kid in the middle of all of these dark haired, dark eyed, olive skinned people. Aphrodite and Athena, when they were small, and we were out together - strangers would always tell me what beautiful children I had. I've always thought of them as nothing less than related, but - like the cartoon said - the way they came to us always seemed a little more special.

And their parents, my cousins, are two of my favorite people. So you can imagine my dismay when, sometime when Aphrodite was very small, it was announced that they weren't telling the girls they were adopted.

.....?

I was dumbfounded by this. Not now? Or not ever? I couldn't understand why it wasn't open knowledge from the start. This was a great story! These were our girls! Why would we want to pretend they were anything other than what they were? I was so disappointed in my cousins.

And let me tell you, I know the damage big family secrets can cause. You might think you can keep it secret, but you never can. It always gets out - somebody knows, invariably. And in a case like this? When EVERYBODY knows? Come on. These things always hurt way worse (if they had to hurt at all in the first place) when the cat is let out of the bag. Because there must be something shameful about it if we had to keep it a secret, right? Whereas, if you just let the cat wander around from the beginning, things tend to be better. You deal with it, acknowledge it, move on. And in a case like this, where there's really nothing shameful, nothing to hide...not to mention, we have some other cousins who are...let's go with...opportunistic. If they had thought it to their advantage to drop that bomb on the girls one day ("Well, she's not your real mom anyway!"), I have no faith that they wouldn't have taken it in an instant.

This secrecy, as you can probably guess, has bothered me for years.

So, tonight, I'm on Facebook, and Athena and I are FB friends (duh), and she's posted a little "How well do you know Athena?" quiz. Which, of course, I have to take, because she's my little cousin (turns out I know her 80%). And one of the questions was, "Which country was I adopted from?"

I seriously almost cried. All I could think was Thank God. And then I happily clicked "Russia."

I sent her a message, though, after I finished the quiz. I asked when her parents told her, and I told her I thought it was great that she and her sister knew. And I told her how awesome it was that I got to have her as part of my family.

And then I thought of that cartoon on the refrigerator.

Which I couldn't find on Google.

So I'll give you this one instead.