Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Steve Rapata

Who is Steve Rapata? Well, me originally. That was the name I was given when I was born. However, as the people that gave me that name quickly put me up for adoption, it wasn't destined to stick. I wonder what they called me the first 11 months of my life? Steve, Little Steven, Stevie, Baby #145, Shitbucket? Who knows? While I'm sure that it's pretty common not to remember your 1st year of life, I wonder how common it is (at least in America) not to know anyone else who does.

I was always under the assumption that when I was born they took me immediately away from my mother and put me in a, a, umm, I have no idea what you would call it. Orphanage? Geez. That wasn't what happened at all. That was what my Mom told me. She probably didn't want my feelings to get hurt.

I found out the truth after my Dad passed last November. It seems as if my birth parents were actually married and had taken me home with them. I don't know what happened exactly but about a month and a half later they brought me to the catholic social service agency that took me in and put me up for adoption.

It really doesn't matter and yet it totally matters. I'm up at 4 in the morning writing about it. Not that it's abnormal for me to be up this late since I work nights but it's my night off. I just noticed the date also. August 6th. The date when my parents finally got to take me home from the adoption agency. 1966. Just looking at that number makes me feel oooold.

What could I have possibly done as a newborn infant to make my birth parents give me up for adoption? Did I snore too loudly? Those that know me intimately know that I snore like a fiend, that could have been it. What, was changing my diaper inconvenient? Did I cry too much? My Mom said I was a very quiet kid, maybe I learned my lesson. Did I get in the way of their extravagant swinger lifestyle? I don't know if they had one, but knowing me and the way I am it's not out of the realm of possibility.

Enough of this then. Early morning introspection about why I'm so fucked up in the head and seemingly emotionally stunted are all made moot by the fact that I have a loving Father that has been watching over me the whole time. Through Him I've been made whole again. Because of His sacrifice I've been given Grace. Not just my baby girl Gracie but the true uncut 100% S-H-I-T. I'm sure that is pretty sacrilegious, but if you are a dope fiend you understand what I'm talking about. Maybe even if your aren't.

Mom and Dad Rapata, thank you. I'm sure that you did what you did for my welfare. Paul and Suzanne Stevens, thank you. Out of all the people in this world that God could have chosen to raise me, he chose you. He chose well. I miss you. Happy adoption day.


KenP said...

Sounds a bit like the angst kids have when their parents split. They seem to think it their fault. That's seldom if ever the case.

It sounds like you had responsible parents going through a life crisis of financial or family nature.

Look at it as them wanting the best for you and obviously succeeding!

daphne said...

So, I have no idea what it means to not be able to add me to google reader or whatever you said on my blog but I heart you for seeing the glass half full.

There is a speaker that comes to my church often that found out she was adopted at like age 30 or something ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous if you will. Any way, her name is Christine Cane and she is based in Hillsong in Austraila. I think she is brilliant and I think she says the f word too but I can not varify that. If you have never heard of her, maybe you should look for her stuff. Like I said, brilliant and possibly a curser. I lift my half full glass to you. Grace & Peace, daphne

M. Steve Heartsill said...

You have certainly learned much over your be able to put that stuff in perspective as you have!

I'm not sure I could have done that!

I think my parents did want to give me up for adoption many times! Usually when I was a teenager!