I never asked to be born. But I’m glad I was.
I never met my birthmother or father. But I’m glad they met one another. That’s why I can type this. Whew!
Their acquaintance was probably anonymous and brief. Sometimes humans need something from another at particular moments in their lives. Sometimes it’s a need to feel loved, or validated, or justified. Sometimes we need another to fill a void of perceived emptiness or insecurity.
Like curious stray cats, humans sometimes leave their comfortable dens thinking there is something out there that is missing from their lives. We are all animals, after all.
I think all of us have felt this way at some point in our lives.
I am glad to have lived the life of an adoptee who spent my entire life searching for origins. Perhaps it is because of this I understand more fully the importance of biological origins and how I arrived on planet Earth.
I have a photo of my birthmother. I have a photo of her tombstone.
I have a photo of my birthfather. I have a photo of his tombstone.
This is far more than millions of adoptees could ever hope for. I am one of the lucky ones.
Today my Syrian Jewish brother commemorated our father’s death by placing a customary stone on his grave. He said he placed one stone in my name also. He also said he showed our father my picture so he would know what I looked like.
I am now a part of a bigger and more profound lesson unfolding before my eyes. As I learn this lesson I promise to teach it to you.
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My grandfather was Rabbi Matloub Abadi. Born 1889 in Halab (Aleppo), Syria. Died 1970. To this day, his sefarim and personal writings are kept safely in a special “Rabbi Matloub Abadi Library” in Shaare Zion. I am asking for anyone’s help to obtain an English copy of his scholarly book, Magen Ba’adi, in any form that I can read.
Thank you.
