You are still my Mama.

I’ll love you anyway. Until we meet again and god give us a new start.

Lord. Help Mama see through the pin hole prick I poke in this veil. Help her go back in time and remember me. And no that nothing changed but where she put me.

Maybe that’s why my kids liked the trash? Some kind of sub conscious trying to dig valuables out of the trash? Like me, trying to take me Out of my Mamas circular file in her mind way before they really could.

I love my children. They are not only my children but they are my friends. That doesn’t mean we are always friendly. Chelsie is giving me rough live right now. Touch love she learned from me. And it’s me trying to learn the lessons she trying to help me learn. Alone.

The only diff is she didn’t have to learn her alone until she decided too do so. I walked along side and gave my children all that I had been given and a bunch of what was given to me was what trauma and a stranger I called mom and dad gave me.

It just was not a good fit. And I was forced to wear it anyway. How? Can anyone so did I’m bowled really help anyone? But I did get them to higher ground than me.

And no. I’m not ready to make nice Chelsie Lynn. Mamas going after this to make it right and not all left sweetie. So black call Mama all you want. But we both know? You love me. You just don’t know what to do. But. You’ve helped. And I know that. So thank you sweetie for getting out of Mamas way so she can deal with her Mamas and set them straight.

It does suck we can have tea. And that no one supports all of us? Just some. It sucks that my family is labeled Christian and yet I can’t seem to find Christ anywhere? Except on My own Mamas table in word form and not deeds to us.

I’d say if I’ve learned anything from Mama these days it’s about her giving practices and my own. Always giving away to a stranger still. Instead of herself and hers first.

That’s the weird affect I see in her.

She doesn’t like that I am pin ting at her.

Which seem right? She was raised in the age where pointing at someone was rude. She doesn’t realize that I’ve been pointed at my whole life? Look! The strange girl. The weirdo. It was so bad I began jumping people to the punch to take control of the teasing. Mama Jean didn’t have a clue. I was on my own.

And as far as Mama Jean was concerned I spoke pig Latin for all she cared and was a babbling fool because she’s not even like me. I’m like Linda. Or was until adoption swooped in thinking I needed saving. Being born with my own Mama treating me like an uninvited guest who needed to be sent to the funny farm. She sent me to the funny farm and it’s not funny there.

No one told Mama Jean about me. Cuz Mama didn’t even meet her. She couldn’t face her supposed replacement. There is no replacing her. End of story on that on. News at eleven. Belinda. Still. Wants and needs her Mom at 56 years old. She broke out of San Quentin and is heading home for a home cook meal or something like that.

Yes. My new family had to watch me and train me not to wander off and just take up with more strangers. I called my first daycare lady Mama. And that didn’t go well? But my first daycare lady was a dead ringer for Mama. Singing and all. She showed me I could do more than even Mama Jean could see and trusted me to help her with the children she watched.

I bonded to her too. Now I seem to bond to anyone but my own Mama? And family? So strange. I do feel like some player Mama through into the world to love all these woman. Like really? You want me to love them and not you? That’s? Sounds like her and Daddy’s shoe right there and yes. I’m all caught up in their cross fire still and he’s long gone people. Long gone. But still around trying to help my Mama see the ere of her ways?

She can’t hide behind Jesus all day.

Throwing her bible up to block me.

Hiding in her prayer closet regurgitating yesterday’s prayers and denying today’s answers all day.

And? I want people to see what adoption did to her despite her outrage. Welcome to the club Mama. I’ve been outraged for years. Hers your badge or honor. Join the others on our boat of honesty and have a drink of clean clear water. It’s time to sober up dear. Parties over.


Cleaning this up so we can go home and live in peace.

I’m tired of my Mother pulling me apart. Y’all gonna loose like this. I’m trying to show you what this is doing to me on my insides. It hurts us like this.

I know you’re better than this.

All of us are. But. It always takes one person to bang the gong to wake folks up for a new days work and I guess that’s me. Spoiling all the dreams to snap y’all back to the real world her on the planet.

I’m on target. Circling round and round. Like a helicopter trying to save lunatics on a roof in a flood telling me Gods gonna save them, when god sent me to save them?

This I know. God is long suffering for sure. I’ve tasted. Wanting so much better and being denied due to pride and ego. I’ll lay it down when you lay it down Mama.

But ya can’t can ya? Seems the trains out of control? Is it? Can’t turn around? Well? Run into me and it will stop and that’s a fact. But. You know that don’t you now? I imagine you might?

Try me says god. Prove me. Isn’t that what it says Mama? Faith. Without works is dead. No faith for me? Seems to be.

It’s like she’s holding on to a junky car cuz that’s all she got. And gods asking her to give it away. She can’t see the new car gods bringing? So she holds onto the junker.

All that’s reading and has nothing stuck?

I really have no beef with Mama even though I point at her. It’s what’s been loaded into her brain that’s causes her to behave this way that’s got me upset. That’s what I war to educate our of her with clean. Honest truth and reflections from her child that felt this knife adoption held in her hand and cut me with.

It’s that she was lead so astray. Lied to so cleverly. Only I could navigate her out of that. Not even my sister who were lead by a woman lead astray. She’s a lost sheep in Christian looking clothing reading to save her life. From me? No. From god who she’s really got beef with.

I’m just the mirror.

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