Knee Jerk, Cry and Smile

Those of you who know me well know that I often end up making the best decisions in one impulsive moment. For instance, I got my Master's degree literally on an impulse. I had just gotten back from California visiting my sister. She had just had my niece, who is now 6. I decided I wanted to go back to school on one hot August afternoon. I went to my boss and asked her if she had any objections to me taking a class in the fall. She said no, and the next thing I knew, I was graduating with a Master's in Early Childhood Education. Good decision? Yes. Do I often wonder if I've lost my mind, deciding to teach young minds with nary a clue about the world? Of course. But I don't regret it for one single second.

So today I made another impulsive decision, which, I hope, will not come back to haunt me. I was reading an article online about a real estate deal gone awry, and one of the attorneys who signed the original lease at the heart of this deal had the same first name as my niece and the same maiden name as my mother. So I decided to Google him. He was an attorney in Richmond and is apparently dead. I kept searching around for other people with the same name, and I happened upon a young writer whose style of writing was very much like mine. She has the same last name as my mother. She also had a website that had a "Contact Me," field on it...and so I did. I e-mailed her. I said she didn't have to respond, but she did, within 5 mins. It appears I may have found a cousin of mine. I have to admit that when I got a response back, I started to cry.

Losing a parent is probably one of the hardest things to do deal with. Whether emotionally or physically, dealing with such a loss can be torture, and lingering questions about that parent are always there. I haven't actively searched for living relatives in the past 6 years, but for some reason I really wanted to contact her. It wasn't motivated by strong desire, but rather just sheer curiosity. Apparently, though, it sparked one of those lingering questions about my mother. Who am I? Why am I the way that I am? From reading this woman's writing, I see that I am more like my mother's side than I ever knew. This could explain why sometimes I just don't understand my father at all. The thoughts that occur to him, in their absurdity, just never occur tome . Rash cynicism? Yes. Out and out silliness that he contrives? No. I am hoping that maybe I will begin to understand a little more about myself through my knee-jerk reaction to a field that said "Contact me."