Sunday, May 9, 2010


I can't remember a time when I didn't know that I was adopted. I was picked out special so I'd heard. I never had an issue about the adoption; curiosity, yes but not trauma. I've always wanted to know my medical history and I would love to know what she looks like. In knowing what she looks like I find out who I am.  I heard stories about my homecoming and how I was in a shoe box because I was so tiny and also a dresser drawer. I really don't remember a lot  about my childhood. I remember random memories and a few that seem just beyond my reach. For some reason I never felt protected by my mother. I don't know why but I didn't. 

Odd, isn't it?

There's something that I can't quite put my finger on and it affected my relationship with my mother until her death.  My mom had the habit of believing everyone but her children. We could tell her something but she wouldn't validate it until one of her friends backed us up. It was absolutely infuriating. She trusted everyone and didn't believe that they could do any harm to her or her children for that matter. Even when it was right in front of her face.

I had a hard time forgiving her when her boyfriend tried to molest me and then she didn't believe me. That one was hard to get over. I knew that I would have to eventually but it took a LONG while to get over that betrayal. 

Why do I think that it wasn't the first time? Another thing I can't quite put my finger on.

My mother's shortcomings were something to work through however there were so many attributes that I've inherited by environment. She was so funny and loved to cook. She had an absolute green thumb and created the most beautiful terrariums that I've ever seen. She was a consummate hostess and loved animals. She was a bit of a goof ball and was an endearing woman; people loved her. 

As much as I fought with her, I didn't want to lose her. The loss of my mother was not only my loss but my daughters loss as well. I would have loved for her to know her grandmother. My mother would have absolutely flipped over Danielle. I spoiled my daughter? Well, that is nothing compared to what my mother would have done.

The loss of my mother cemented the knowledge that nothing is permanent. 

That knowledge started with my birth mother giving me away and continued on with losses of my family, friends and marriage.

So in honor of Mother's Day I want to honor my mom. Not blindly because issues are still out there but I will honor her memory. I know that she did the best that she could. I don't know why she did what she did. I don't know her reasoning so I've come to the point in my life where I realize that I can't judge her anymore. 

I know that she loved me and, for now, that's enough.

**To my reader from Elgin, birth record says my mother's name was Mary Martin. If that name means something to you please feel free to email me.


  1. There can't be a better honoring than your honesty.
    Lovely post.
    Judith Westerfield

  2. Thanks Judith.....I agonized over this post. I wasn't sure how much I wanted to reveal but I still wanted to be honest. Mom issues are never easy......

  3. All I can say is WOW, great post!!!!


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