I am a love child born in the sixties, when the parents of us made babies in wild ways not governed by the church doctrines. Back then I would be known as a bastard. And I grew up with that label that lay under my new label, ADOPTED. But I was born from a passionate two who came together, and parted ways.
But within me, is love. For them for making me. Even when the church said it was wrong and filled my Mamas head with lies that over shadowed who I was, to her. I am from love. Even though my Mama did not like that I was within her and wanted me gone, I love her. I don’t like that idea, but back then, it was a crazy time for babies. It was dangerous to create babies like my Mama did.
But as I experience the rush of energy each day that drives me to write about this and her, I see it’s meant to be. A child always wants their flesh and blood. Adoption has caused me to cleave to another and defy the natural pull we babies feel. And it’s intense, this feeling I feel towards my Mama. And I am trying to manage it as best I can.
But I am beyond patience these days. I’ve waited forever for this day. The day when I could, would, profess my love for my Mama. And it takes a lot to work up that kind of courage. There are so many involved I. Your life now. And you want all to know you appreciate them deeply. And that they will never be forgotten or cut off. Those who showed up to be what your Mama could not. They count.
But I came from another. And her reckless act got me here folks. She gave me away. But she allowed me to live. Shall I just forget her without expressing my gratitude for that one thing. The rest was hard to do. But I did it. And all I want is my Mama to understand the extent of my faithfulness to her. And that because I could not forget her, I mourned not sharing the life she allowed me to live without her.
However I came to be. Whether harsh, drunken, drugged up, or sober. I am a gift filled with love for the world. But for my Mama that I came from. That’s as natural as the day is long. Some support in clearing this up with my Mama would be amazing. Telling her this has been hard on us both. And I will not go down living a lie like I only have one Mama.
They both matter. And I do make that clear.
I shout it from the mountains. Even if she hates my guts for blogging about her. Even if she never talks to me again. I love her. Adoption made that look crazy. Babies love their Mamas. We may not always like them. But we forgive when we know she tried her best and own her shit.
Thanks for diving deep.