A reader just asked me why I articulate, and apparently feel, more negativity towards Amy than Tommy, given that Tommy didn’t embrace the family either. It is an excellent question and one I partially answered on the comment itself, but one I think I’d like to explore further.


The answer I gave after the reader’s comment essentially says I spent over 15 years struggling on a 24/7 basis to build a relationship with Amy, and less than three years directly living with Tommy. Tommy arrived older and clearly angry, stayed angry and directed that at all of us, (but especially me), and then he left angry. His behaviors were obviously more than we could handle—at that time and probably even if he came to me now exhibiting those same behaviors. He was in and out of our home several times before he was gone for good. At one point we paid foster care wages/support on a private basis to a group home mom—a sum which I both resented each month we paid it (because we didn’t bring him to America only to have another mom raise him) and a sum which I recognized wouldn’t be enough for someone to pay me to deal with his anger and his behaviors. It was an incredibly weird spot to be in.


Tommy had a very rocky adolescence (what an understatement!) and is now a young adult. His confusion about family continues. He moved close to us but moved away after four months because being in the same community was still too close. (And I most certainly was not actively in his space … for a myriad of reasons he was not comfortable in our community.) He is much happier having a family from a distance. He calls when in distress but articulates he doesn’t even know why he calls. It is a step in the right direction—at least he trusts me enough to show some vulnerability.


And therein lies one of the big differences right now between Tommy and Amy. For as rocky as Tommy’s relationship is with the family (and he periodically drops off the planet only to resurface many months later), at least he shows some vulnerability … some sense of someone else underneath. He has a boatload of work to do on his issues and he mightily resents any suggestion to that effect. He struggles with relationships on many fronts but is still incredibly confused about what a relationship is even about. It is hard to repair that which you don’t even understand. He also views himself as a solo act … which is why he is so confused when he feels compelled to call, especially when his emotions are getting the best of him.


The bottom line is, my day-to-day investment in Tommy is not as deep as my day-to-day investment was in Amy. Not that I didn’t want it to be … for that was clearly my intent when we adopted him. But he didn’t live with us that long. I tried, but I couldn’t make it work. I have had a long time to let that dream go. It is easier for me to let Tommy be Tommy, whatever that is, and if that was not all that I had hoped for him, it is easier to see how that is not a reflection of me.


With Amy, I spent over fifteen years pouring heart and soul into her. It is incredibly hard not to take her lack of ownership of her life and the family personally. I know I shouldn’t. I know she would have been the same in any family. Most of my friends tell me she would have been worse in a family that allowed her to veg and didn’t keep pushing. She has as much right to be who she is as Tommy has to be who he is. But I didn’t have the opportunity to work so danged hard on Tommy. He didn’t have the lengthy opportunity to embrace all that we had to offer (and thumb his nose at it or not) as Amy did. (Admittedly because his own behavior and choices preempted that opportunity.)


So right or wrong—and I know it isn’t fair—I am having a much harder time letting go of what could have been with Amy …


Healing from Heartbreak