Most of you know that I am adopted. I generally never speak of it and it hasn’t been particularly important in my life. I am not one of those people who obsess about the situation. The only thing being adopted has left me with is a feeling of mild debt. I often feel like I owe the girl who decided first to give birth to me and then to put me up for adoption a thank you. The only thing I know about her was she was 16ish, unmarried, lived in Portland and kept me for a week before giving me up. I have known some complete idiots who resent their birth mother. How stupid is that, she realized she couldn’t provide any good outs for me so instead of dooming us both or killing me she gave me the best possible chance for some sort of success. At any rate that’s all I know about her. I have come to a point where I just wish there was a way that I could let her know that I appreciate not being killed, and give her a very brief account of myself. I wish I had a name and picture or something about her. I don’t want to really have a second family; I don’t even really want to do anything more than just a brief interaction. But there it is. I have no way of doing any of this of course and I suppose it isn’t so bad as I don’t want the complications of having to treat anyone else as family.
The only reason I bring this up is that a few days ago while doing some mercenary birthday shopping for a friend at borders something odd happened.

I was in the CD section cruising along and this guy who worked there glanced over and saw me and acted like he recognized me. Not a “he looks familiar” reaction but a full “it’s my favorite cousin I haven’t seen in years” look. So he comes over and says that I look exactly like a friend of his he used to know in Illinois. In fact I had a striking resemblance according to him to the gentleman in questions whole family. He tells me the guys name is Brandon and asks if I have family in Illinois. I still recovering say that I don’t know if I do. And he mentions that the family has ties in Chicago and do I have relatives there which of course I don’t know. I mean this guy is near convinced that I must be related to the family and after a few minutes of conversation he shakes my hand and walks away bemused at my similarity in appearance to Brandon.

Do I have blood relatives in Illinois? Do I have a brother, a clone, or possible a visible match in a man named Brandon? Could there be some town in another state over-run with Jeff look a likes? Is the lady who birthed my still alive and did she pass through Chicago?
I have no clue.
Coincidence, design, or simply a guy who wasn’t that good with faces making an error.
That is the weirdest thing for me about being adopted.