Here. How did my Mama end up as Marilla?
I can never eat when I am the depths of despair?
My own Mama? Now treats me like a stranger? Was I supposed to be a boy?
This is what it feels like for me and my Mama does appear like Marilla? Well. Well have to put you up somewhere? Ugh. Come on. Wash up. I guess we will have to feed you.
Simply tragic really. 😩🤷♀️🤷♀️
Does Marilla even realize who’s come to dinner? Her parents dead. And now Marilla must teach this child or is this child teaching her a thing or two? This story is rich with wit and wisdom as this child teaches this woman so much she did not even know about kindness.
And Matthew was right except the other way around. They needed her. Who’s Mamas Matthew? If not god.
This is what comes of not doing instead of going yourself. What would have been had Mama done it herself or am I perfectly engineered by two woman?
This Anne is standing her falling watching my Mamas assessment herself as she looks over her own handiwork.
I am wickedly honest for living as a lie. But I am not wicked at all as I smile while my Mama relives it all before me inside my mind. I set me right and she’s got to adjust.
Who am I? I Be Linda’s and Jeans girl. Some kind of hybrid human. Raised by two woman very covertly. And for some reason I am called to reveal that at this time. My story. Trials and tribulations growing up as a supposed disposed of child. My own Mama acts like she’s disposed of me while all the while she’s holding onto me for her dear life as I drag her into her own spot light. Next to me and Mama Jean. Linda Marie, our Oz begins the curtain called adoption.
My Mama. Took a wife and never touched her and gave her a baby. She’s my father. She’s your Mama. Let me say that again. She’s my daddy. She’s your mama. Mama jeans like a mama. Mama is like a Daddy. A dead beat daddy right now. Even my own Daddy was a better Daddy then my Mamas being to me right now. He owned me. All of me. Even the parts of me like you. Especially the the parts of me like Linda Marie.
If my Daddy wasn’t viable then I would have been aborted by my own Mamas body. Like Mama Jeans body did. Nope. We ain’t having no more of this mans seeds growing here. A woman’s gonna give her a perfect baby. She’s gonna be the father while she’s the Mama. And that mans gonna rule the day he messed with either of those woman. Bye! Elmer! You didn’t make the grade a woman did better then you, Bo. Move yourself to the peto-file, you sick bastard.
And my Mama father is really innocent to these things. It’s ok. We doing fine. Now. We both made it cuz Father Linda prayed us through. I was raised by two woman, like lesbians, but not. And one provided the other a child and the freedom to raise her as her own all the while knowing it was there’s now in a holy matrimony called adoption.
Going home and calling Mama our on her bullshit. Cuz I’ve been calling mine out for years. Ask my children. If I don’t tell on myself. All day long. They can clock me like time going round and round in a cycle. Vicki. Cycles of life. Change. And it’s spring. Mama don’t wanna be a dead beat but we all win this time. I’m changing the adoption rules for our family unit. Toot sweet. So all are included now. I expect everyone to now act accordingly. To honor our Mamas. For what they both did for your sister. You think I’m talking for just me. That’s precious.
Anyone can clearly see when they’ve done the inner work when a plot twists making a change. If me coming home wasn’t a plot twist then what the hell was it? Seriously. Follow the story and we’re it will go. Y’all didn’t have the new linens until I came along. We are forever changed. Now.
And that’s a good thing. We could be unpacking it all and really getting to know one another. So much to share and experience now that one came home and Mamas got the best friend ever who tried and true. Seem evident to me where this goes. What a statement of loves resilience and the adaptability of two woman in the sixties. It’s not about one or the other for me. It’s about them both. I can’t divide myself up like that. I Be Linda’s and Jean’s. And Mama did that.
And my Mama needs to see it as a blessing. She’s not Marilla but she’s been a little? Well. Stuck without me there to brighten her days. I’m way better then a boy.