When I was a little girl, I went through a stage where I was convinced I was adopted. I had two older brothers who were nothing like me; how could I possibly be related to them? In fact, they were so different from each other, I was convinced they were adopted as well. At the same time, my best friend Margaret was adopted and so was her brother, and they looked identical to each other. That confused me, because I didn't look anything like my brothers -- or so I thought. Years later I discovered that Margaret and her brother did indeed have the same biological parents.
The idea of adoption has always fascinated me. I have several friends who are adopted, and as much as they are curious about their biological families, they feel very much a part of their adoptive or "real" families. One friend of mine tells me how much she loved her grandmother, and the smell of her perfume, and they way they used to dance around the room together. She adored her grandmother and still has fond memories of her, and yet in the sense of biology and genetics, they are not related. In the sense of love, however, the bond is strong and unbreakable. What a wonderful concept that is.
Another of my friends who was adopted, finally located her birth family. She discovered she had nine biological brothers and sisters. She is curious to meet them only because she wants to see if she bears any physical resemblance to any of them. Other than that, they are complete strangers to her and she has no interest or desire in establishing a relationship with them. Her adoptive family is her true family.
Rules regarding adoption have relaxed so much in recent years. At one time only a child who "fit" with the adoptive family would be placed there. Now there are interracial and intercultural adoptions, open adoptions, gay family adoptions, single parent family adoptions -- it's amazing. I believe there is enough love to go around, and certainly enough children to be adopted. At one time parents waited until a child was "old enough" to be told he or she was adopted. It would be whispered, "She is adopted, but they haven't told her yet..."
My friend, who adored her adoptive grandmother, loved her as much as any child can love a grandmother. She was her family. When it comes to love, does DNA really matter?