There are a few things that have been preying on my mind tonight.
I’m a member of a facebook group called, “You Know You Grew Up in T*****”. It’s the town my parents grew up in, where I was conceived. There’s a picture on the site, a lovely painting of a large farm house. It’s painted red with white trim. A wonderful place, that any child would love to call home. Someone asks if anyone in the group recognizes this house, and remembers the owners and where it was located. Many group members chime up, saying they knew the owners, many saying it was their second home, because they spent so much time there as young folks.
That is my grandparents house. I was never allowed to see it. My parents did not bring me home. They brought me to the agency instead. Seeing that picture broke my heart, again. How much breaking can one heat take? Is there a limit?
I wonder why my father didn’t ask his wonderful parents to help raise me. I wonder if my wonderful grandfather encouraged his son to give me away. Maybe because Momma was half black. No one will tell me.
Then I think of my Auntie. Dad is one of 5 children. His twin sisters were only 8 when I was born. They remember crying when they were told that I died. I asked my Auntie if she could give me any family heirlooms. Something that belonged to my grandmother. She told me that all family heirlooms were divided 5 ways, and if I wanted anything I could ask my father, if I had a better relationship with him.
Why do people have to be so cruel? I have nothing from my fathers family. The wonderful family who lived in the big red farmhouse aren’t very nice to their cast off niece. Maybe they’re not so wonderful after all. Maybe there were some dark secrets in that little town, and maybe I’m one of them.
I read something tonight about chosen children. It asked how do you choose a child to adopt. It made me think of my adopter. She was offered a little boy, about one year before she got me. She turned him down, because he was already 1 year old, and she wanted a womb fresh baby that she could pass off as her own. So she waited for her order to be filled, a newborn girl. Lucky me.