I really don’t get it. Why is it so strange for a woman to talk about her Moms? When it’s done Honestly, and candidly. I admit, I push the envelope a bit. And I admit I have a flare for expressing myself. And I am unable to apologize for that. It’s part of me.
Talking about my Mama openly is like a breath of fresh air. And its like taking the old rug out to beat the dust out and let the sun and breeze blow new life into it. Ive waited so long to speak. I waited for permission, and no one wanted me to speak about it. And as much as I wanted to keep the status quo, I didn’t. It was like a tug of war, stay the same? or change? And change won. Except that some of my family think its stay the same. And they are partly right. I am not gonna stop talking about Mama. I mean if she doesn’t want to work this out? Then I will work it out here. I guess folks can learn my process.
Why is it so strange I talk over and over about my Mama? I am a blessed girl to have her ear. I am sure she has wondered many things, and if not, she should have. I certainly hope she thought of me more than on holidays? but if that is the case? I guess I’ll have to accept that place in her life. Small. And as much as I would like to stay small and obedient or whatever her deal is, I am more. And Mama Jean has a lot to do with that more. She poured her broken heart into to me. I knew she lost two children before me. And I know how much it hurt me loosing Mama, that I got where she was. And I brought the salve and the wine, to mend her broken heart. She wasn’t open about her grief, and yet I could feel it every now and again, when she would look at me a certain way. I knew she was thinking about them. Hoping maybe that they were ok, and that they liked me. Maybe that was me thinking that. And maybe she was just thinking about bills and my Dad wanting another car.
Being adopted has made me fascinated with mothers. Each Mother is different. And many are called mean, or course, sluts, bitches, broads, and the list goes on. But each has a job to do, and from what they were taught they draw from. And if they are strong, they keep learning and growing. I push the envelope to grow. I tap, and tap, until I get an answer. I seek answers about the woman I call Mom. And they fascinate me, anger me, love me, each in their own way. And its complicated, true. But that is all I know. Two Moms, that is like to wives. Both yelling at you about some such thing, this way they yell! that way they wave their hands! What is a girl to do with two woman? Talk.
I am not ashamed of talking about my Mama. And am blessed to have known her at all. And I am blessed to have been lead back to her door, or ex-husband. I am blessed to have my mirror to look into, and ground my body in this life. Looking at her helps me see traits in myself that I may not be aware of, she mirrors to me myself. We share many mannerism. And I love it. I love lookin into a mirror that may not see my like I truly am and I like watching as they wake up to it. I love to watch people wake up to who I am to them. And my story is just getting started.
So what I like to talk about my Mama. All she has been showing me is her back side l lately? What else do you want me to talk about? The garden maybe? or maybe cooking? Like my Mama blocks me? In what world is that normal? In what world is it ok that a Mama keeps doing me the same way? I mean what I have been saying must be true. Or why would Mama be so upset? And I say, so what if tis true? Own that shit. I do.
I mean girls look to their mama’s for everything, and mine was gone. And Mama Jean did her best, but, it was not the same. And I struggled to get her way. And so I just was a tom boy, at least then I did not have to deal with failing all the time, even thought Mama Jean was kind. I hate sucking. And I was not like her, she is so elegant, and poised.
I would love for Mama to tell me some other things about her. I would love for her to show me something new as well. I would love to see some love come my way, instead of all her hate and anger. And her pity and patronizing. And her neglectfulness. now thAT I am back, what is she doing? Busy, she’s busy doing what? Like a daughter is a Mothes first charge and yet she’s not here? How would you feel if your own Mother was a no show? Not a good things, Angela, my daughter knows how that feels. Now she knows how I felt my whole life. Just wishing my mama would show up and come get me, and how embarrassed I was for us growing up. I had to listen to it all. You know, what folks say?
And yet, I never gave up on us; which includes Me, Mama Jean, Mama, my children, and the rest of the family. I just have a dream. Like, and its a huge undertaking for a woman to take on. Its like a millions pieces of fabric that you have to sew together, so the world can see the beauty from the joined fragments. Except it mental, and emotional quilting. I snip at Mama’s loose ends, and stitch Mama Jean into a square with Mama. I tie a bow and smile. I snip at my Big sister, nope, sister, not like that. We have gotten rusty. Its ok. Dont give up, look at me, I’ve been working at this for years. Prayers are great tools for spiritual stitching. I am glad Gran Gran was a sewer. That ability has helped me so much, thank you Gran Gran for giving your gift of creating with fabric, and helping me to use it to stitch this family back together. You are MY ANGEL. I love you.
I love typing about my Mama’s. And I know that many portions are emotional charged, which shows intense emotions, that for lack of a narrative got trapped in me. I apologize for the intense expulsion. It was not my wish to project, but to expel. I held it in so long, that I am rusty at speaking. I had not processed my feelings, and got stuck in stuff mode, I guess? I also guess that now was the time for me to let it all out, just like it went in, which was very intensely, and extreme. It defiantly left a mark. That is what I am saying. Adoption left its mark on me, and I work each day to overcome all that I have spoken and shown you here. I have stood in front of the world naked, vulnerable, and exposed, and I am still alive. And that shows that I have endured, because I am just now crying uncle under the weight of it all, and showing you the wound, so love can heal it.
And when you don’t feel good, you want you Mama. I am blessed to know where she is now. For years I could not reach her, and so I work to transform our relationship into what God always intends for Mother And Daughters, friendship. My questions is this:
What better friend is there than a person that could withstand a blow, and yet still comes back to take the damn bat away from you, and to hold you as you crumble into my arms. Now, that is what this is about. And I don’t give up on my Mama, to my dying breath! I DONT CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS ABOUT HER! SHE IS WHERE I CAME FROM! AND MY LIFE IS PROOF THAT WE MAY COME FROM ONE PLACE, BUT WE DONT NEED TO STAY THERE. My life is proof that people can change and grow beyond their Mama’s wildest dreams. And as I crack that safe of a heart of hers, I storm the gates with flowers and chocolate, and wine and love beating within my body.
I may get down, yes. But I don’t stay there long. I am showing you how I overcome. I speak the truth I hold, like cards that you lay down, so I can grab another card, or truth. I see what I have been handed and I let go of the cards that no longer serve me. This work I do is hard. Storming the gates of Mama’s heart has proved to be my biggest challenge. She is always in my heart. But I need to show her what I really see, beyond what others have tried to cram down my throat. She’s all huge up on what folks said, and she thinks that is what I ultimately think of her? Hell No. PFFFF.
How can any daughter hold onto such a thing? And the only one to sort it out with is Mama. And now I stitch it all together to show the beauty, that is our next chapter. At the end of this year, Mama and I have gone through it. I don’t like this anymore than she, but it needs to get done. I hate loose ends!!! Hate! I like it neat. Oh, Mama’s gonna be so proud when its done. 2018 is the year….. I proclaim it over us all. Unity, forgiveness, tears of healing, hugs, restoration, revelation, revival, love prevails over it all and grace covers each missed mark for us all. Just because I point it out? You think its stuck that way? Pray, forgive, talk, ask, knock, love is a great tool to show people the missed mark and then cover it with grace. That is why we love the Lord so much. God shows us our missed marks, picks us up, and helps us shoot again.
This whole process has been hard on us all. That is why I am speaking up about it. We all must see what we do, and not be like those that crucified Christ. They did not see what they did to him. The killed him instead of changing their ways, they wanted him dead because he spoke the truth many elude themselves in seeing. I see my cards are stacked, and I see why in my story. That is why I am changing the story. That is why I am calling it all out of the darkness, so that the air can vaporize the past energies that haunt us all, especially me, the one its around. But I see the affect it has had on everyone. Mama Jean taught me how to look and watch. And I want everyone to adjust to this and not give up.
I know its hard and our hearts are all upset and our heads don’t like change. We get used to the way it is. But I am a sister, and since 1963, I have been a sister. And my sisters did not get to welcomed me home, and I missed them. I remember hearing them, and I felt empty without them. You can ask my friend Susan, I used to talk about sisters all t he time. No offense brothers! I love my brothers, but my memories were with my Mama, Dad wasn’t around while I grew. And my memories are feelings, and emotions that I now put words to. And I so dreamed of them growing up, and imagined with it might be like. Fighting, and pranks, and talks after dates, and the list goes on. But that they would not want me or understand me? Well, I get it, that is why I am explaining myself.
The way my family has been treating me lately, I feel like some kind of handicapped person. Like I am some kind of freak. Not a nice feeling, and yet I keep going. I pray, and ask God for the words like Moses who’s struggled himself. Same pattern, speech issue, and he’s adopted too. I feel like the Lord is showing me that Adoption affects the left side of the brain that is over language. And many adoptees have fragmented speaking habits. We shoot this way and then that. And I can do that quite well, which makes me very adapt at keeping up with many conversation. It is a good skill to have. It’s like swinging in the trees like vocal monkeys. But coming out with it is hard for everyone.
Why can’t we just accept that I am like this? Why can’t we come together and forgive one another? Why has no one helped me with my baby? Why have you left us like this? Is this what our family is about? Where is christ? Nothing changes is we all don’t change. Fact. Why is everyone dragging around and that is not a question for you to give me excuse after excuse. Actions is what is needed. This is insanity to stay like this.
Everyone want me to leave you alone Mama, is that what you really want? Or would you like to understand your gift? Would you like the family to be more supportive of a change? That includes me and Mama Jean and my kids? This old shits got to go and I am not backing down. I said, I don’t back down, I may back off, but God always give me a fresh burst of energy to continue and fight my own fears of failing us all in this completion. 2018 is our year for family and its time we did some work on the garden of this family and dig up the soil and plants some good seeds of faith.
That is my wish, each year. This year I want to see it, taste it, I want us to all get the hell over it! That tis why I just hit you all with it, fast and hard and over. Like a shot. Bam! My truth is a hard one, and I got it like a shot, so I am just hitting you with it like I got it, not trying to be mean? And if it feels mean? Well, it felt mean to me too, I apologize, there is no way to dress it up, I tried for my whole life. I practiced with people and talking to them about it and you all. Practice, Practice, Practice. Mama left me, I need to explain myself if she was ever gonna change her mind, I needed to change her mind about it!
It just totally amazes me that she is not at my door? I mean a girl that has been obsessed with her, a fan for life, and she treats me like a stalker? And I hardly go to see her because of it. One visit she was freaked out because I was walking around the place and taking in my Mama’s house. She acted creeped out that I looked in her cookbook room. She doesn’t know how many people I tell about my Mama’s cookbook collections. The room needs some love. And I would love to help her with that, but I got to get up to bat first. It has really been interesting, because my adopted family thought I was amazing, we had our struggles, and we overcame despite our differences. And my own family seems to struggle to see the blessing in me? I see many blessing in them, when they get over it, and accept that I am back and start acting accordingly. But they act like they have an option to tap out? And they do. But I am public, so, they might want to think about that going down in history? What part do you wish to play in the new chapter sisters and Family?
I have been raised by a woman that worshiped me. She has done her best, to be the best Mama she could. I have shared our struggles, but we are not there anymore. I see her worth. And I see Mamas worth. Do you see mine? Why should I have to take this abuse? So I am giving it back to you. Neglect is abusive. Mama Jean does not neglect me. You all could learn some things from that woman and need to! Get with it! Chelsie Lynn! Call me. I am so done with this shit. I am praying for you, but I can not keep karma from you. Look at what I am doing. Do that. Lets get with it January is coming. You have had time to do what the hell ever you are doing. But you need to come see me, Grama should bring you. Lets heal. And face to face. But to hear you voice would be nice.
This is what you get from making grow up with such a secret that no one wanted to hear. It comes out like this, all jumbled and crazy sounding, because we lack content. If we dot face the bad parts how can we create new parts? Its really not that bad, I lived through it.
Anyway, Thanks for diving deep with me today