The journey was a long one, and I was glad for the chance to step out of the bus and stretch my legs.The view was spectacular and I felt rejuvenated, with the fresh, crisp mountain breeze gliding softly over my skin.. I was all alone, in a new place, with no idea how to being my quest but strangely I felt at peace. Some greater force was guiding me. I felt as though I was on the right path, even though I didn’t know where the path would lead me.
All the materialistic things I owned were now in the small bag pack I carried. I had packed up my life in the city abruptly and taken this voyage.
All to find my birth parents.
As its turns out, I was adopted when I was too small to even understand what it meant. My adoptive parents, never let me know I was adopted. I didn’t have any reason to even doubt my true lineage. But the day they told me, my belief in everything they had ever said just evaporated. After a day of trying not to react to the news, I quit my job and made my escape. To maintain a normal façade and go on with life as though nothing had changed would have been almost impossible for me.
Even the one day that I stayed, questions hounded me.
Did they really love me? Or was it some charity love that I had been surviving on for the past years? I wouldn’t deny that I was given a comfortable place to stay, good education and even love from time to time, but once the truth came out, I began doubting the authenticity of that love. I had started remembering all those little things that they had done for their real daughter, whom I loved with every fiber in my body, but not for me.
I had called my family, from the airport, telling them of my decision. They had been shocked but supportive. They wanted me to discover my roots, if that’s what was going to make me happy, they said. I had hung up, not knowing how to react to that. Why had they kept it a secret for so long? Was there anything more to it?
I had come here, into the mountains up north because that was the last address of my birth parents that the orphanage could provide me with. From here on, it was anybody’s guess. I couldn’t even be sure whether they were alive or dead. But, in order to try and get rid of the bitterness that had creeped inside me, I had to try.
Maybe somewhere deep inside I felt that I should try and start a life here, where my real parents were. Maybe, they had to give up on me because they couldn’t provide me with a good home and they wanted the best for me. As
I a daughter, I felt, it was my duty to look up on them. What if they still needed some help to get by? Maybe they had regretted the decision to leave me and had tried to get me back, it was possible right?
I became aware of the conductor, waving his bright red handkerchief trying to catch my attention. It was time to continue the journey.