I was always sent away for the summer. Mom and Dad had to work. There was no one to take care of me, so I had to go. It was so scary living with other families. I never knew what to expect.
I was 6 the first time, sent to Mom’s sister’s house. I remember the fear. What would my cousins do to me? Why was I alone, with no one to love me? What did I do to deserve this?
I never said a word. Next year, back to Aunties. I guess i finally said something, because the next years, off to Dad’s sister’s. That was better. The cousins there were not cruel. Still living with a strange family, but a lot less fear.
Eventually I was sent to summer camp, for 4 summers. I know summer camp is supposed to be fun, but I hated it. Hated sports. It was a kosher camp, with Friday night services, and I wasn’t Jewish. I had trouble fitting in.
It was 50 years ago, but I still feel for that little girl. I don’t know why they bothered to adopt.
So much big stuff has happened. It took me awhile to sort it all out.
First, the pandemic. Everyone is all scared and upset, but for me, it’s been like a little slice of heaven. Best of all, I didn’t have to go to work, for 73 days. I got my full pay for all of them. I work for the state. My husband worked from home for much of that time. I deep cleaned the entire house. I planted a garden. I loved being home so much. I’ve had the deep blues since I’ve had to go back.
My adult daughters, who live at home have been getting unemployment. It’s more than they’ve ever made in their lives.
I had a granddaughter. My first. It’s so powerful to see my line carrying on. This little girl will be alive long after I’m gone. It’s a very comforting thing for me to know this.
The bad part of the pandemic, for me, was not being able to be with my daughter during her labor and delivery, and not being allowed to visit my granddaughter in the hospital at all. My DD suffered a great deal. She had a long and hard labor, and maybe I could have made it a bit easier for her. My knowledge could have helped her.
But, mother and baby are home, and doing well. I haven’t told anyone in my father’s family, because, why should I? They never share anything with me. It’s pretty clear to me they do not care at all about me, or my children, or grandchildren. I’m tired of trying to matter. It’s never going to work. Dad’s going to be 80 this month. Maybe he’ll have a party. Who knows?
A-mom fell. She lives with us, and we heard a crash. We went in and Hubby found her lying on the floor. She had been walking around holding onto the furniture for awhile. We told her, over and over again that it wasn’t safe. We begged her to use her walker, but she wouldn’t listen. She tried to get up from the sofa using a rickety folding table, and it toppled over. SHe was dazed and bleeding on her arm. Hubby got her up, and gave her her walker and she toddled off to the bathroom.
She didn’t come out for awhile, and I finally went in and saw she had soiled herself, and the whole room. It was very bad. I cleaned her, and we let her lie down for awhile, hoping she was just in shock, and would feel better with some rest.
She woke up a few hours later, and couldn’t get out of bed, so we called the ambulance. She didn’t want to go with them, but the EMT talked her into it. As they were wheeling her away she said, “I guess you want to get rid of me”, and “I guess I won’t be seeing any of you again”.
It’s all true. I’m very happy that she’s gone. I haven’t seen her again. There is no visiting in the hospital, or the nursing home where she’s gone to recover from her fractured shoulder. When she fell, her walker and other assistive devices were only a few feet away, but she choose not to use them.
We cleaned her whole apartment, and it was very dirty. I’m so happy that she’s not here, and dread the day she comes back. I even think of moving away, and not telling the home. I feel guilty for these thoughts.
I was adopted to do a job. I am supposed to be a loving daughter. If I’m not, there is something wrong with me. It is not supposed to matter that she’s not really my mother. I’m not supposed to even notice that.
I hope she never comes back, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep her away. I know I’ll cave in and take her back, and I’ll hate every minute of it. Non adopted people don’t understand. They tell me she’s my mother, but I know she’s not. I’ve been trying to escape for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never been able to.
My oldest daughter is due to have a baby girl in 2 months. I’m very, very happy. I love babies, and can’t wait to meet my little granddaughter.
Of course, this wonderful news brings up feelings about my birth, and adoption. I’m estranged from my father’s family. I don’t think they know anything about my daughter’s pregnancy, unless they somehow heard through social media, or from someone in the neighborhood. My half brother, Mom’s son lives in the same area as many of my father’s relatives. He owns a house with his half brother (same dad, different mom). My cousin E rents an apartment in that house. E is my late mother’s half sisters son. I invited E’s preteen daughter to my daughter K’s baby shower, and she said she will attend. She will be the only blood relative of mine that will be there, aside from my 3 daughters. The only member of my adoptive family that will be there is my adoptive mother.
Luckily, my husband has a big family, so my daughter will have blood cousins and aunts there. Only my side will be lacking. I have a sister, sister in law and many female cousins and aunts, but they are not part of my life, and I don’t think they ever will be. My father will be a great grandfather, but I have no idea if he would care about that. My mother did not live to see her great granddaughter. My half brother will be a great uncle. My Dad’s kids, will also be a great aunt and uncle. They are 31 and 24 years old.
I don’t know if my cousin, who lives in the house my brother owns told my brother about the baby.
I want to tell everyone, so much. I want them to all come to the shower. I want my granddaughter to be marveled over. I want my family to say who she looks like. I want us all to be part of their lives. I don’t want to be treated like a monster. I don’t want to be hated and feared.
But, what I want doesn’t matter. I’ll love my granddaughter. I love my children.
I still wish we could be part of my family, though.