Her daughter died. A long time ago. And what does that mean to me the character she cast for the play?
Well? She’s blind for one. She’s hurt for two. She’s scared for three. She’s just saying what my Mama said for four. Fit in. Or your out.
Well? I’ve been out a long time. If I’ve been dead so long? I’ve actually been me the whole way watching both woman deluding themselves about who I really am at the end of her day?
She raised me as her own? Seems kind of a dumb thing. Because it does not appear she like herself much if she can, after years of faithful service to this cause just say something so vile and hateful when all I wish and have ever wished was to be the better she needed.
- And my own Mama supplied the supposed remedy? Why is she not feeling better?
Who’s only wish was to love both her Mamas with equality and furrier? How can both these woman see so much of their own darkness and call it mine? When my lights shine brightly for them both and always did?
Adoption robed is all of this is how it ends. She wants me to leave. And to take my son with me. And I know why. Because he’s like me.
And where do I go now? Now that she’s through with me? Tossed into the wind? Thrown away at the end of her undoing? What the hell was the point? If this is what folks say?
She was not my Mama. How can that be hurtful? When it’s the truth. But she doesn’t want to remember that she became My Mama and what she’s done is her work not Linda’s.
My Mamas orchestrated this on my behalf.
And I’ve been swimming in a sea of illusions for them? And now that it’s my turn? They are just acting like bad sports to expect me to stay in character even though? I’ve been dead for years according to the woman who raised me?
All because? I’ve told my truth at the end of their truth which tells a whole other truth.
My Mamas don’t like their truths added up. At the dead end sign we stand and I point to another way, they, stand and cry no. And stand still at the dead end called Adoption and choose to see failure instead if success.
Because in my heart. I wanted them both to win. What is a win when someone must loose? What is a win when the child must keep loosing? Stuffing. Silenced and given no true lines to speak?
I am a human being for goodness sake. I’ve always had feelings of my own. I’ve just been run over and scribbled on by some narrative that proposes to know what’s good for me and does not know what is truly good for me.
Science even back me up? Do my Mamas even understand science? It does not appear that they give a shit about science. They want me gone. Both of them reject me now.
And I want the world to see this. Look hard. Cuz this is what happens when an adoptee speaks up and tells the unedited truth, and not some pretties up version to make us all feel better. No one gave a shit or even though I had feelings about this?
And I do. I have deep feelings about family and strangers.
She can’t seems to see? As I stand by still loving and caring for her? Wanting her to see I love her? Even if she wasn’t my Mama? Why. Must I lie to be seen or loved? Or even accepted as I am.
I accept that my Mamas are like this. I accept that we don’t have to stay like this.
Anne of green gables always says.
Today is fresh with no mistakes in it. Each day. We can choose different than yesterday. But if we hold onto our ideas of each other that are steeped in our past experiences, how will we make this happen? Why would we want to stay like this?
Go back in the box little girl. No one wants to see you is how I feel. Go away. You’re making me look bad. But my Mamas can’t see? They always looked bad? And good. It depended on who was looking? But it seems they believe and see the worst in themselves in me? And not the bravery it’s taken to speak up so that others can have better and so we can have better too?
It’s 2019, not 1963 anymore. It’s time we got up to speed with change. I’ve had to change? So did they? And we can change again.
As woman? What the hell are we saying to woman to stay old and outdated? Is not the sisterhood of any concern?
This is a mess. And I’m the only one cleaning. I’d like to submit this to my record. I’m still here standing up for us all. Cleaning. Stitching. Alone. On a quilt of heritage I’ve had to piece together from the torn pieces of life and self.
I wonder? Did my father have to give letters of recommendation to my Mama too? Who hired a nanny without meeting them? Who hires a family to love your child? And never looks them in the face? To read their intent?
- To have a strange child in her corner.
Cuz at the end of the day? I was used.