his First Words

This is just a post to let everyone know that I have received the first set of letters from my birth father! I have also discovered that he loves to write poetry--he sent a few poems along with the letters.

For those of you who know me well, I love to read and write poetry. The first poem I have record of, I wrote when I was ten...(I have some of my more "recent" poetry posted here on this blog in the section entitled "Poetry by Melissa").

Needless to say (but I feel the need to say it anyway), the discovery that my birth father loves to write poetry made my heart smile and jump. This journey never ceases to shock and amaze me.

I am waiting on the letters and poems to be translated...it could take weeks.

I am trying to embrace patience and gratitude in the mean time, although in all honesty the waiting makes me crazy. It is at times a sad reminder of what I have lost, and yet simultaneously a portal to new hope and healing.

I'll be posting excerpts from his letters and poems once I receive the translations...

But I look forward to learning their content. It is my understanding that he never had the chance to see me or meet me, but only knew that I had been born and relinquished before he could ever see my face or utter a word to me.

So when I set my eyes upon these written words, they are not only the first words I am receiving from him, but they are also the first words he is giving to me after a lifetime of never having had the chance to say a simple hello.

Here is the poem I wrote when I was ten:

Flowers make me think of peace because when the wind blows at them they don't try to fight back. When winter comes flowers wrinkle up and just disappear but they die happily because they know that another flower like it will come and take it's place and make everyone happy. When people come and take flowers away from their home they don't cry or try to do something bad. They just think of peace and say in their mind I'll make this person think of peace, love, and happiness.

Note: I did not edit or correct for grammatical errors to maintain authenticity :) I'd also like to note that in the original document, I drew along the margins a picture of a flower "Dieing in peace" and a picture of a flower "Alive again in Peace." I do not remember very well writing this poem, but on the back of the paper is written "Melissa Chatham Rm. #9 Mr. Rodgers." Anyhow, I just thought it was a fun document to dig up and read again...