Note: I have to refer to my birthmother as E from now on because it’s getting on my nerves to type, say, think, the word birthmother any longer.
Valentines Day being synonomous with love, kind of got me to thinking about what it really means to love someone. OK, more specifically what my love for E means and how it has changed it’s face through the years.
When I was a child my love for this faceless, nameless person called first mother was pure, un-adult-erated. She was love in its most primal and uncomplicated form, like a white light shining in the distance. A presence I could conjure up when life became complicated or unnatural.
Later, as I matured I was able to form more complex visions, simply meaning I was able to create a fantasy character to suit the needs of my soul. I visualized this maternal figure always standing with open arms, faceless in a foggy haze.
Older still she became a comfortable stranger, not accounted for but always present.
When she was found by my intermediary and it was relayed to me that she was very excited that I had contacted her I was so grateful. I could hardly contain my excitement.
One week later when she told the intermediary she had changed her mind and wanted nothing to do with me I was confused, devastated, ripped in two.
When, after many twists and turns of fates journey we finally met I was in a daze, emotional overload, FAR too much to process during one lunch. Not Reunion Bliss on the Oprah Show Love, that’s just way too much to expect from anyone.
Shell Shocked Love
An entire year passed without a word and all I could do was sit and wonder.
When she showed up out of the blue the day we were moving to say good-bye I was grateful but also a little put off.
When another year passed and she graced me with a gift in the mail for my newborn child signed, Congratulations, E……………. I was blown away.
When two more years passed I sat down to write a note. Let her know; I’m doing alright, have pictures of the children for her if she wants them, the weather’s good and my garden is pretty.
Running to the mailbox every day like that pure love kid from way back when. Empty mailbox made me sad.
Today, soooooo many unanswered questions, soooooo much time just pissed away like it was worth nothing.
Now I’m torn.
Angry or Wasted……………………………………………….. Love.