I joined Facebook a couple months ago. It's turned out to be a terrific way to keep in touch with my nieces and nephews, as well as former students. I found my first new, non-work friend in the area there, and some long-lost childhood friends as well, including one girl (yeah, she's over 40, but to me she's still the weird kid in my Girl Scout troop ;-)) I've known since 3rd grade but haven't seen since high school.

Devra and I have taken semi-different paths in life, although we still have a fair bit in common, and as we've reconnected we've chatted about kids and stuff (she has FIVE!! Never saw that one coming, either, LOL). I sent her some pictures of my son over the weekend and she said if I were comfortable with it, she would like to hear my story, so I told her.

I don't want to get into it here and many of you know it already anyway. It's just that the telling of even the bare-bones of the story has stirred up so much in me! I am ecstatic I have even the tiny part in his life that I have now, but I didn't realize how much I am still grieving not having gotten to watch him grow up. He is a wonderful young adult, with a charming sense of humor and a deep sense of gratitude for his blessings, and I love who he has become. I"m just feeling sorry for myself because I missed the path to getting there.

I didn't post this in Grief because I wanted to hear experiences others have had with stuff like Facebook and Myspace and running into old friends, etc. The older I get, the more I realize how important the people who know the most of your history are. The Internet has been a blessing that way for me, as almost none of my childhood friends remained in the place we grew up. I feel like it's dishonest not to talk about something that caused the better part of my trauma and mental health issues -- I just didn't expect it to hurt so much after all this time.

One more thing? Please don't tell me how fortunate I am. I KNOW that. I am eternally grateful that my son's adoptive mom decided to seek me out. But he is my only child and like it or not, not having raised him, although it was the right decision for him, hurts me.

Candy