mother

All posts tagged mother

Warts and All

Published June 5, 2018 by maryleesdream

warts

 

Another early morning.  I couldn’t sleep again.  This time it’s OK, because I’m on vacation this week!  I can catch up on my sleep anytime this week.

I have been upset about something bio Aunt S said to me recently.  It really steamed my clams, and I’m trying to analyze my feelings, as usual.  I always wonder, why does it hurt so much?  Am I being unreasonable?

Bio Aunt S and I made contact when she did 23 and me DNA, and we connected as relatives.  I reached out to her, and we had a brief email exchange.  I have not had much communication with my bio family.  It’s been years since I spoke to Aunt S.

Aunt S said this in her email “I do see your dad a couple of times per year.  I love him, “warts and all”, and I cannot speak for him or comment on his choices.”.  This is what has been bothering me.

I have not seen my father since Christmas 2012.  He has chosen to have no contact with me, or my 4 children.  His kept daughter recently had a baby, who I think lives with him.  The fact that Aunt S, dad’s sister loves and accepts my father’s decision to exile me hurts me deeply.

I do not feel any love, kindness or acceptance towards me in the statement my aunt made.  I know siblings love each other, and are loyal, but is putting family members on a pedestal doing the right thing?  Dad is loved, “warts and all”, but I am still shunned.  It hurts so much.  I will shove it down into my psyche, and get over it, but it will never stop hurting.  The pain will just subside over time to a dull ache, which will flare up from time to time, when I am reminded of my losses.

Advertisements

DNA

Published April 17, 2018 by maryleesdream

dna

 

 

My father’s sister did 23 and me, and guess who popped up on her DNA family page, little ole me!

She was listed as my half sister, which would either mean her father,  is my father too, or my father, her brother is her father too.  I don’t think either is the case, with DNA relatives, they come close, but the exact relationship isn’t always certain.  But I kinda liked the idea that my dad slept with his mother.  Then finally his family would see he wasn’t a great guy.  I thought it was kinda funny.

So, I contacted her, on the 23 and me website.  We shared our DNA profiles.  It was nice.  Then we started emailing.  I shared my huge Ancestry.com tree with her.  She asked if I wanted to meet for dinner sometime, me and hubby with her and her hubby.

I did not want to do that.  I told her about the shunning, and she said my cousin, the one who told me about the shunning had it wrong.  There was no decision to shun me.  I guess it was not official, but everyone did it anyway?

Strangely, I have no desire to see my Aunt.  She does not mean much to me.  She told me that she loves my father, “warts and all” and cannot speak about his decisions.  Fair enough.  I can, and his decisions hurt a lot of people.  He’s a scumbag.  As long as I feel this way, I don’t think I can ever get along well with my aunt.  We can’t have a casual going out to dinner kind of relationship.  Especially after all those years of silence.

And…still no word about my mother.  No acknowledgement of her death.  No I’m sorry, nothing.  why would I want to be near this woman?  Well, I don’t.

Auntie said she’d be there if I ever wanted to get to know her.  Does that sound like a loving invitation?  It does not to me.  I know enough to stay away from this one…

 

 

Maybe I’ve Got it All Wrong

Published January 14, 2018 by maryleesdream

 

Family-gallery-for-clip-art-pictures-of-families-clipartcow

 

I think my birth parents are my parents, not my adoptive parents.

I do not think I’m related to my adoptive parents at all.  I can’t understand how I can be expected to believe unrelated strangers are my family.  I was raised by, and around my adoptive family, but I never,ever thought, or wished that I was related to any of them.

They’re OK people.  Not too bright, actually.  My mother was much smarter.  More damaged, for sure, but quick, in a way the adopters are not.  Mom & I both have large vocabularies.  A-mom, not so much.

It’s not a popular point of view, but it’s one I just cannot shake.

No one likes it.  My adoptive family think it’s wrong, because my A-parents raised me, and I should see them as my parents.  My birth family doesn’t like it.  I’m not sure how they feel about it, but it seems they don’t consider me a relative, and wish I would just vanish.  Which I have.  I have little contact with my natural family, 7 years after reunion.

We may have no contact, but they are still my relatives.  No matter what everyone else believes.

Are there any others out there like me, who do not understand how we’re supposed to believe strangers are our families?  Please let me know how it is for you.

She Should Have Been Proud

Published November 16, 2017 by maryleesdream

Mothers_and_children_II

 

My dear departed mother should have been proud of me.

I’m getting ready to go to work this morning.  I’m a supervisor in a busy government office.  I’ve raised 4 wonderful people into adulthood.  I own my own home and have been married to my sweetie for 34 years.

But she hated me.  My family shuns me.  It breaks my heart.  No matter what I do, it is never good enough.  I am tainted.  I am tainted by their rejection.

I’m 55 now

Published November 14, 2017 by maryleesdream

 

father

 

I can hardly believe how old I am.  I was young yesterday, now I’m middle aged.  Oh well, what choice do we have?  I still feel good.  My kids are grown, and life is a bit easier.  I’m enjoying this time of life, but still fearing the end.

My father did not wish me Happy Birthday.  He sent me a card once, and a check for $100.  This was when I turned 49.  Since then, nothing at all.  So, in total, he gave me $100, and bought me 2 glasses of wine, and a BLT sandwich.  And he gave me a ride to the adoption agency in his car.  That is all I got from my father.

Can I really have done something so bad to deserve this treatment?  I don’t think it’s possible.  I’m sure Dad would not shun his kept children.  But I was not kept, so I am not his child?  I guess that’s how it’s supposed to go.

The only problem is, I am his child.  He is my father.  His siblings are my aunts and uncles, their children my cousins.  His parents my grandparents, and so on.  Everyone can agree that this is not the case, but I cannot be convinced.  I have DNA proof.

Another birthday goes by.  A very hard day for some of us adoptees.  I felt, and still feel that my birthday is something to be ashamed of.  I should not have been born.  It was a mistake.  My adoptive mother was not there.  My birthday reminds her that she could never give birth.  My birthday ties me to another woman, and that’s painful for A-mom.  So, my birthday is bad.

It’s also the day my sorrow began.  The day I met my mother.  We were together for 5 days in the hospital.  Then we were discharged, and Dear old Dad picked us up and drove us to Spence-Chapin adoption agency, where they left me forever.

And, that’s why he’s not my father anymore.  Get it?  Well, I never will……

 

Another Letter

Published September 30, 2017 by maryleesdream

writing-letter-586d7bbe5f9b584db320f6c5

 

I like the letter format.  It helps me organize my thoughts.  This one I probably will not send, but you never know.

Dear Dad,

 

I should say I hope this letter finds you well, but I really don’t.  Your health means nothing to me.  Let’s start again then.

Hi Dad.  How are you?

I don’t even know if you’re still alive, or if you can speak or read.  I don’t know if you still live in your own home, or are in an institution.  I know nothing about your day to day life.  Do you still drive?  The last communication I got from you, I think 4 years or more ago said that you were ill and not able to leave the house much.  I don’t know if you have recovered, or if the illness has gotten worse.  I hope it’s not a heredity illness, but you have chosen to keep that a secret.  Maybe it’s a result of your past drug use, like the liver disease that killed my mother.

Our little family is well. A’s 20 now and in Copenhagen, doing a semester abroad.  I can’t imagine living her life.  I did not go to college, and have never been to Europe.  I’m proud that I can provide this experience for my child.

C is 25, and in graduate school, getting her teaching degree.  She lives at home with us.  K is 30, and a practicing court reporter.  She travels around with her machine, taking depositions for several court reporting agencies.  She goes all over, Brooklyn, Queens and Manhattan.  She’s living at home for now too, but saving up to get her own place.

Your oldest grandchild, P is 31 and still working for the county.  He’s been there for 10 years, and is a supervisor.  He has his own place a few miles away.

I just got promoted to supervisor at the DMV!  It’s scary and exciting.

I write letters to you all the time in my head, so I decided to write one down.  There is so much I must say, but no one really wants to hear it.

Being an adopted adult is a very strange experience.  There are not that many of us out there.  Closed infant adoption is rare.  Everyone knows someone who is adopted, but not many people know how it feels to be one of us.

We are told how to feel, by everyone.  Our bio and adopted families both see us as “different”.  We do not fit anywhere.  We face things every day, that most people have no idea about.  We seem normal on the outside, but we suffer on the inside.

I am part of a dying breed.  Infant adoption is not as popular as it used to be.  Women are keeping their babies.  It’s not as shameful as it was in the old days.  Closed adoption is rare now.  Society has seen the pain and problems that it caused, and the trend is for more openness in infant adoption.

I, personally think all types of adoption are abusive to children.  Babies need their mothers, not strangers, and every effort should be made to keep children and their mothers together.  If that’s not possible, family care should always be considered next.  Stranger adoption should be an absolute last resort.

Growing up with strangers is a bewildering experience.  I knew that I was adopted from before I could speak or understand.  I cannot remember the terrible moment when I learned the truth about my sad beginnings.  It was always there.  I always knew that my own mother gave me away, and I could never understand why.  Even after we met, her reasons were never clear.

She blamed you, but she had to sign those papers too.  I know she wanted me to have a better life than she did, but why she thought giving me to random strangers was the way to do that confuses me.  How can you be sure your child has a good life, if you have no idea where they are, or what’s happening to them?

I faced many harsh realities as a child.  I could never be the biological child my adoptive parents wanted, and I could never go back to my real family.  I was stuck in a nightmare world, with no way out.

When I found my family, I was dismayed to find that you had a stable upbringing.  I was upset, because it went against what the agency told my adoptive parents, that you were too poor to take care of me.  You were not.

I quickly realized that there was a reason that you did not want your family to help raise me.  I’m still not sure what that reason is.  I can only suspect that it had to do with my mother’s race.  I feel strongly that your father knew what was going on, and he was aware of the adoption.  I think other family members knew too.

When my mother had her third pregnancy, she called my brother’s grandmother, and told her that she had my brother.  My brother’s father’s family helped my mother raise her son.  She finally got to keep one of her children.

So, why couldn’t your family do the same?  Why did I have to be given to strangers?  I don’t think there is an answer that will make sense to me.

 

Well, that’s it for now.

 

Sincerely,

 

/Marylee

A Letter to My Father

Published September 14, 2017 by maryleesdream

 

writing-letter-586d7bbe5f9b584db320f6c5

September 13, 2017

 

Dear Dad,

 

I can’t believe it’s almost 7 years since I found my family.  It hurts so much to know that you are all out there, and I am so alone.

It’s been over 2 years since my mother died, and I haven’t heard a word from my family.  I don’t think anyone can imagine how bad that feels.  It’s a terrible curse to have a family, but not be part of it.

The last family member I heard from was my cousin W.  She told me that the entire family decided that it was best not to have any contact with me.  Best for who? I asked, but there was no answer.  It’s not best for me, so I guess it must be best for the rest of you.

It was best to give me away as a newborn, and best to shun me as an adult.  But, never, ever best for me.  Best for me would have been to live and grow up with my family, and best for me would have my family accept and love me as I am.  I will never get that.  What’s best for me is not very important to my family.

I still live with the pain of being cast out.  It does not get better.

I did not attend my mother’s memorial.  My brother kicked me out of hospice on her last day.  He asked when he got to be alone with his mother.  I guess his whole life was not enough for him.

My mother and her friends hated me, so I thought it best to stay away from the memorial.  I never saw my brother, John after he kicked me out of hospice.

You are the one with the mystery illness, but my mother was the one who died.  Life’s funny like that.

Anyway, just wanted to let you know how much being abandoned, and shunned hurts.  I’m pretty sure you don’t care, since you always do what’s best for you.  And never, ever what’s best for me.

 

Marylee