Tag Archives: Biological Kin

In the end, too many adoptees will leave this world alone

Rudy Owens self-portrait with the latest health challenge on full view

My current health situation, that has only started and won’t get better for a long time, reminds me of my years intervening to support my adoptive mom (who I call “mom”) and my adoptive sister. Mom died in February 2020 after a long bout with Alzheimer’s, and my adoptive sister, who is in a nursing home, is not well.

Maybe I could have done more to help both of them. I still do what I can to help my adoptive sister. My stepdad did more than seven years of heroic caregiving for my mom, and I appreciate what he did. Now that I find myself with serious health challenges, it’s sobering to realize how no one should go through life without someone to watch their back, particularly at the end of life.

In my case, there is no one in my adoptive family or stepfamily of 41 years who would step in to help me, even if we lived in the same community. Right now, I’m sure my three stepsisters know I’m injured by talking to my stepdad, and yet none have even sent an email. We live scattered, far from each other. This is the reality for all of these relations. If I am injured worse than I am now, I am entirely on my own. I continue to plan my life and the next chapter of my life with this as a daily priority to address.

I also think about being adopted and what compassion and care mean for the millions denied their biological relations by this oppressive system rooted in law, religious bias, politics, economics, social practices that have exploited many groups and single moms, racist practices that remove children of color from their kin networks, and corruption that has brought hundreds of thousands of persons to the United States to meet a “market demand.”

We adoptees are robbed of our many, many kin—parents, siblings, half-siblings, cousins, second cousins, aunts, uncles, second aunts, second uncles, third cousins, third aunts and uncles, nieces, nephews, and countless more. All of these relations are also those who naturally and logically would be there to help us through life’s challenges. This is because the nature of our biological kinship, the root to our survival as a species from a socio-evolutionary perspective that is documented clearly in scientific research.

Rudy Owens and his recently found bio-kin in Finland, photographed in September 2024–we are family at the most elemental level and especially by blood kinship.

In my case, I am entirely on my own. No one is there to “watch my back.” It is a situation I have to deal with.

The one positive note from this sobering reality is I at least know I have biological kin in Finland—found in 2023—who genuinely care about me because we are kin. We are not all aligned politically. We are connected by biology, blood kinship, and genetics. At least I have this reservoir of knowledge to draw upon understanding how kinship works at a biological level in how we treat each other.

My blood kin in the United States, many who have died, live far from me. For those on my biological mother’s family, I am not connected with many. Some never even knew about me until recently, and our close “proximity” to each other as blood kin also creates tension that they cannot accept. The real barrier is my status as the bastard—the dark and dirty secret who had to be abandoned to this system of adoption to preserve society’s needs and to remove the dark stigma that illegitimacy has always represented globally to society all the way down to the individuals in families.

I cannot change anyone, and I cannot make anyone want to know me. What I can do now is make a plan to be ready for this final chapter.

I accept what adoption has done to my natural biologically-rooted safety net—because that is reality. Finland is very much on my mind as place to consider my last chapters. At least there, it is a society that cares for everyone, unlike our country that is unable to achieve lasting change for the better of us all.

How the memories all come back with the cards and letters

Greenland postcard I bought in Qaqortoq in July 1999 and sent to my bio-mom. The postcard shows a work from B. Christensen, “Kajakman foran isfjeld.”

My bio-cousin, from my birth mother’s family, just sent me a large batch of letters I had sent to my now-departed bio-mom many, many years ago.

She passed away earlier this year, and he was still cleaning up the remaining items not thrown away. In this batch of past correspondence, all written by my hand, I saw lots of postcards. This postcard is from 25 years ago. She must have tossed what I had sent later, but I have no way to know this.

The stack of long-ago written cards and letters provides a fascinating look into my thoughts and my relationship with this person who was both a stranger and my closest biological relative I was able to get to know after I found my biological families and kin in 1989.

I still send postcards to people I care about. That part of my life and personality has not changed. A postcard provides just enough space to share a deeply personal note about your life and what you are observing and experiencing.

I particularly liked this postcard I had purchased in the Greenlandic city of Qaqortoq in 1999, on one of three trips I took to Greenland between 1998 and 2000.

It brings back a lot of memories.

Those are thoughts of a complex relationship with my late and closest biological kin I only found later in life as a 24-year old-man and what that means to me. They are also recollections of this time in my life when I had very little money. What I had was a lot more derring-do to live life to the fullest and learn first-hand from faraway places that had something to teach me.

A new tradition begins for ‘Rudy-setä’

In 2023, I immersed myself in my Finnish heritage and connected with my Finnish kin in Finland.

This marks the first Christmas in my life that I have contact with my biological relatives in Finland. This followed a wonderful trip I made in September 2023 to Finland, one of the ancestral countries of my birth mother. 

We had only known each other in the month before I flew to Helsinki, after my search combined with good fortune and the kindness of a stranger helped re-connect familial bonds that had thrived decades between relatives in my birth state of Michigan and Finland.

I published a long-form story about that in November 2023. I highlighted our shared family history and how the inequitable system of U.S. adoption and discriminatory laws in Michigan still deny such connections to likely tens of thousands of adoptees relinquished in Michigan.

In Finland, to my amazing surprising, one of my biological family relatives shared with me a stack of letters and photos sent and shared by our shared relatives in Michigan—my maternal grandmother’s extended family. That stack of documents included letters stretching over decades and family photos that showed my Michigan family—including my birth mother as a young child!

Since coming home, my relatives in Finland and I have stayed in touch. We’ve done a few video calls and have shared messages through WhatsApp, which many tech-savvy Finns love to use. It’s an easy way to reach them. It encourages communications that make me feel much closer to this land of a quarter of my biological kin and their ancestors. My search for my past also opened up a world of discovery for me about Finland, a country voted six times in a row as the world’s happiest country.

Because of Finland’s amazing successes promoting human happiness and health, population health, and the “greater good” for its people, I have also have become more than smitten by my genealogical ties to Suomi, as Finland is pronounced and spelled in its delightfully distinct Finno-Ugric language.

I received a new name this year, courtesy of my Finnish nieces I met for the first time in September 2023.

Soon after I came back from Finland, I received a delightful family video shared with me by some of my relatives. They gathered together to wish me well, calling me “Uncle Rudy.” I earned this loving moniker because I have four distant nieces in this family (and I have another niece with another distant cousin, who I met as well). I loved it.

I felt something I had felt before—a biological kinship to younger children who all shared my genes. I was their “Uncle Rudy,” which in Finnish translates to “Rudy-setä.” I have now fully embraced this title, given to me by the young ones. It turned out to be the unexpected gift of 2023 that I could never have predicted when the year started.

This Christmas card was sent by one of my U.S. biological relatives to their Finnish relatives in 1947. My extended in family in Finland returned this card, to me, when I found and met them in Finland in September 2023.

As Christmas arrived this December, I shared a photo of a Christmas card a Finnish-American relative of mine shared with relatives in Finland in 1947, written in Finnish of course, as the U.S. relatives were bilingual. I wrote: “What an amazing thing to discover that holiday greetings were shared between family through the 1940s, and later. So I wanted to renew the old tradition, one of those Christmas cards sent from U.S. family in 1947, and perhaps start a new tradition.”

My relatives in Finland replied with similar holiday wishes, family photos, and shots of their homes decked out for the Christmas holiday. It was nice to have this connection, from halfway across the world, in a place filled with snow.

It is richly empowering to everyone to know they have kin and relatives, in the United States and also in countries around the world. All of the millions of adoptees in the United States, born there and abroad, have an inherent human right to share this connection to their kin and relatives, if that is a mutually shared wish.

I received wonderful Christmas wishes from Finland on Christmas Eve this year, from my Finnish relatives in Finland (hyvää joulua).

Earlier today, on Christmas, Dec. 25, 2023, I used the special occasion to advocated with Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer to support the restoration of basic human rights to all Michigan-born adoptees. The best way that the fellowship and good will of the holiday can be shared, through the passage of possible legislative reform in Michigan, is to make it possible that all of us can know who our kin are and to feel the bonds of fellowship with those with whom we share a collective biological kinship. This is called being human. We all have a right to this condition by birth.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all, especially to those who may still not know their kin, their past, and their truth because of laws like those still enforced and in place in my birth state, Michigan.

We all have a right to know our origins

Finding myself and my kin in beautiful Finland

This month, I had the good fortune to have one of the most memorable trips I have ever had.

I visited Finland, or Suomi, in Finnish.

It is the ancestral home of my maternal great grandmother and great grandfather. I am a proud Finnish-American by birthright.

Using information shared with me by my biological family, along with the help of strangers as well as just good luck, I found my biological relatives before I Ieft for the country of some of my ancestral kin. We share a common ancestry to small villages in South Ostrobothnia, about 75 kilometers from the city of Vaasa. We are bound and connected by blood.

Over several days, I met many of my kin in different cities. I will be sharing more on that later. Those encounters reaffirmed for me, again, the basic human truth of the critical importance of kin relationships and biological family to our place in the universe. Deprived of that knowledge, we will forever feel adrift. With that knowledge, we feel a connection.

Many thousands of Michigan-born adoptees, like me, are denied this soul-enriching information by discriminatory state laws.

Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, a Democrat, has done nothing to try and fix this grave injustice after nearly six years in office, though her and her staff are well aware of his legal inequality to thousands of people. There is also indifference visible by public silence to this systemic denial of basic rights by the Democratically controlled state legislature as well.

The only solution to this problem is the passage of lasting legislative reform.

I have been working on this for years, and I’ve reached out repeatedly to lawmakers, the state vital records keepers, and to Gov. Whitmer’s senior staff. They know about the issue, and they will do nothing unless they are forced to do something by residents in Michigan impacted by these laws.

Here are some suggestions I shared earlier this year for lobbying for reform to end this harm. I hope you will support these efforts, even if you are not a Michigan-born adoptee. As my Finnish relatives would say, “Kiitos!”

My holiday card tradition on Thanksgiving day

Habits can be extremely rewarding.

One of mine is to write my holiday cards on Thanksgiving day. I have kept this tradition for more years than I can recall. No matter where I have lived or what happened on that day, I always found time to think about those in my life, including family and friends.

The act of writing and remembering reminds me of the bonds of connection I have with people far-flung across this country. Some of these connections help sustain me, good times and bad. Some have little impact in my life.

I went with an Oregon-themed card this year. In past years I have made my own. On each of the cards I create a personal message, written by hand and signed. A regular theme, if I can find one, is to share a positive wish of good fortune for the coming year. It is always preferable to be positive, even when we know some persons may be experiencing hard times, like some of my relations and friendships.

In my case, my card writing involves my circle of friends who seem to remain a part of my life as I age. They can be called my “chosen circle.” They are not family, for me at least. They matter a great deal in my life.

My “family card list” includes my step-family, my adoptive family, and my biological family. Because I am adoptee, and because that status is fraught with complexities about the meaning of “family,” my holiday card tradition has challenged me.

Having had a step-family since I was 18 years old, I can vouch first-hand that these relations are not easy. Step-family bonds are not blood-based or kinship-based.

Everyone in those dynamics knows the minefields, and to deny these tensions is to deny the critical role of genetic kinship in how all species, including humans, care for and help their close genetic relations succeed. This is equally if not truer of adoptive-family relationships.

I explore this in my greater detail in my adoptee memoir and critical exploration of the U.S. adoption system, in my chapter appropriately titled “Blood is thicker than water.”

Author and adoptee Rudy Owens gets ready to mail his 2022 holiday cards to his biological, step-, and adoptive family and friends on Thanksgiving day 2022.

In my book, You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are, I write about the meaning of relationships with non-biologically related step-family and other distal adoptive kin: “There simply is no bond that joins us, much the way I feel about my adoptive cousins, uncles, and aunts. For me, there is no blood that ties us, nor DNA to bind us. We are not true kin, both as I perceive it and as I have experienced this relation for decades now.”

Yet each year, on Thanksgiving I will still write letters of fellowship for the coming Christmas, or winter holidays if you prefer to call it that.

There is very little power I have to create relations where none are hardwired to exist by the determinant laws of biology and genetics. What I do control is my ability to offer a hopeful gesture. Whether that gesture is accepted or rejected, like so much in our lives, is not in our power to manage.

Because I was separated as a newborn baby from my biological family by laws and systems that erased my past and discriminated against me and millions of others by status of birth, I only began my biological family relations in my mid-20s. I explain all of this in my book for any reader seeking to understand what that means for me and other adoptees.

As someone who is now in my mid-50s and getting older, I remain clear-eyed how those relations will remain forever impacted by this system of separating families. And with my surviving biological family members who I do have contact with, again, I am not able to control how they respond. It has never been simple or easy to explain to anyone who is not adopted and separated from their biological family relations.

So with Thanksgiving now behind us, and my holiday cards on their way to my blended, adoptive, and biological family, I will celebrate what some may call our betters selves, to be the person I prefer to be.

Yes, adoption as a system forever made my holidays a mixed up time, but I have, for decades now, not let this define the meaning I give this time of year freely.