Mommy

Oh the things that I would say to you if I could.



I was at an Epicure party when I got the call that said you were gone. Dad offered to come get me, but I declined and continued with the party for some time before politely excusing myself. Replaying it in my mind now, I do see it as a bit disturbing. Just calmly telling people that you just found out that your biological mother has died, and you really should be going now. But bad foster homes had gifted me with an emotional shield that few have been able to penetrate. And I’ll be the first to admit that my mask does come in handy. So I was able to tuck this bit of information away, as I do with so many other things, and save it for later. I held it together while speaking with other members of my family. And even to myself I appeared okay (as awful as that may sound). It’s not that I disliked or hated you. It was just that for me, the relationship was not there. Having you absent for most of my childhood definitely did some of that. My Mom and Dad were part of it. I too was part of it. I know you had your struggles, mentally and physically. I don’t judge you for that, as I share in some of those same struggles as well. I had thought that you were okay with Dad and Stacy raising us. And I initially thought that you passing was indeed quite sad, but I also felt that I should be extremely grateful that it was not someone whom I was closer to that was now gone. I genuinely believed that I was going to be just fine. But then I started going through your possessions alongside my siblings. Finding the kind of knickknacks that I myself would have collected, the little things you kept and cherished, the paperwork showing just how hard you tried to get us back. I had no idea. And I admit that I did eventually crumble. Not at my sisters house where we went through what was left of your life, but later on at home, in my bed. I cried, and hurt so much, realizing what I had lost, what I had not even known was there to lose. And realizing the pain you must have endured all of these years. In the Bible they speak of a weeping, wailing, and knashing of teeth. That is what I felt. Pain and anger at things which are lost and can not be returned. And guilt. Oh the guilt. I should have tried to reach out. I thought that there was time. I didn’t give any thought to the fact that people can be gone in the blink of an eye, and that you won’t see it coming, and that there is nothing you can do to change things after the fact. All you’re left with is the pain and the meager hope that you can do better next time.

I cannot change it. But I would if I could. The little girl that once was cries for you. But also for herself. I guess I just want you to know that I love you and I forgive you for everything. Please know that I was never mad at you. And now I just hope that you can forgive me too. I should have done things differently, and maybe that would have changed how things turned out, maybe it wouldn’t have. I’ll just have to choose to believe that you’ve now found the peace you deserve, and that there is no more pain for you where you are. And I truly wish that you were still here.