When I was 11, I loved to look through the documents, postcards, diplomas, certificates kept in a big case filled with other stuff so incredibly interesting to identify and study. And the specific smell that came from that case was so familiar and … sweet. I was not really interested in the content of the documents, the most exciting thing was the process.

Once I pulled out a paper and started to read. “Mommy, what is this?” – I handed the paper to my mother and saw her face change. She looked at me in fear and confusion. I’d read just the first two lines: It was a certificate of adoption, and it stated my previous middle name.

Not a single word or pause or glance or whatever from my mother, step-father, brother, grandparents or other relatives was ever caught by me to get that small (or big) family secret revealed. They all pretended as if nothing was wrong. They somehow implicitly agreed to expel my father from reality, life, memories, history, the family story …

And I was deprived of my right to be the daughter of my father for so many years. Why did they do that? Why didn’t they tell me the truth? The simple and at the same time so important truth? Why did my father not fight to remain my father? Why didn’t he try to come and see me, to be my beloved father, to support me, to share my joys and blues, my smiles and tears? Why did he give up on being my father? I needed him so desperately. Why couldn’t my mom and dad get along as a man and a woman and keep on being my parents? I have no answers.

Anyway, I was raised without his love, his presence. I do not know what it is like to be a little girl and sit on his shoulders. I will never ever feel what it is like, and it makes me sad. I will never see the way he looks at me with admiration. I will never know what it is like to look into my father’s eyes full of admiration and love for his daughter. And it makes me sad. I wish I had it. You know, I do not even know what he looked like – he died six months before I managed to find him. I will never ever hear his voice, the way he speaks. And that enormous pain will always follow me. I will never be able to tell him how much I needed his protection going through hard times. I do not have memories of him, although I think of him very often. And my sadness is endless. I am sad about not having him, not knowing him, not feeling his love. I am so angry at him for so many things we missed together, for so many things he did not give me to help me become a woman, to teach me to act and choose and many, many more. But I would forgive him for sure, because he is mine, because I love him. And one day I will.

I still wonder how many people do not understand and do not have any idea about what parenthood is. If my parents and I and my son’s father knew how much we were all responsible for the health and well-being of our children, the choices they would make in the future, the strategies and psychological games they would use to adopt in society, the way they would make decisions, we would be more tuned in to the core needs of our children, we would be happier and raise our children in a more receptive environment while giving them more chances to be themselves, to be happy and free.

I am so mad about my mother. Although she is so close to me, she is simultaneously unreachable, but I will forgive her one day for sure too. I love them both.

(…to be continued…)

2021: Conceived – Volume 2 of a Contemporary Transadaptation 

January: The Pack – Alejandra Baccino (Uruguay)

February: The Pink Shirt – Talia Stotts (America)

March: Dragging the Past out into the Light – Kate Korneeva (Russia)

April: Looking Forward to Spring – Marilin Guerrero Casas (Cuba)

May: Every Little Thing – Gennady Bondarenko (Ukraine)

June: The Girl Who Chased the Rainbow – Toni Wallis (Sarah-Leah Pimentel) (South Africa)

July: Another World – Jonay Quintero Hernandez (Spain)

August: Life after Nare – Nane Sevunts (Armine Asryan) (Armenia)

September: Meeting My Homeland – Rayan Harake (Lebanon)

October: Catching Water (Part Two) – Javier Gomez (Argentina)

November: Remember – Seyit Ali Dastan (Turkey)

December: I Can’t Breathe – Veronica Cordido (Venezuela)

Background – Context

In the Middle – Prelude to a Contemporary Transadaptation, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2020)

Peripatetic Alterity: A Philosophical Treatise on the Spectrum of Being – Romantics and Pragmatists by Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)

La Syncrétion of Polarization and Extremes Transposée, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)

The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2018)

L’anthologie of Global Instability Transpuesta, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2017)

From Wahnsinnig to the Loony Bin: German and Russian Stories Transposed to Modern-day America, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2013)

Emblems and stories on the international community

Perception by country – Transposing emblems, articles, short stories and reports from around the world

Credits

Cover photo: Moscow, Russia – The extremes – Alexander Popov (Unsplash)
Source: The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed