Funny how you don’t think about some of the things going on in your own life. I knew that I have been drowning the last several months. To be honest – (don’t you hate when people say that? It’s like the next thing they say is not going to be the truth at all?) Well – to be honest I wasn’t being honest with myself – I really thought it was all “ADOPTION STUFF” coming out. Coming out of the fog as they say. Only thing is – I had thought I had already taken that painful walk out of the fog almost 25 years ago. Perhaps I was still stuck in there somewhere. So what’s the point?
Most people don’t realize that when babies are relinquished from their mothers they do their own type of grieving. When you tell people your adopted they don’t usually understand how much it messes with you. I’d venture to say that most Adoptees have no idea how much it’s affected them. Until they come out of the fog; that God can be really thick sometimes.
If I told you that my mother died when I was 14 how would that make you feel? Would you catch your breath for a minute and think about how awful it was. A girl needs her mom, especially when you’re a young teen or twelve like my youngest sister was. Horribly sad, isn’t it?
My sister talks about all the things she never learned – how to put on makeup, do her hair, etc. You know – the things that moms teach you.
My mom died the first time when I was four months old.
She died again when I was 24. I was a mom myself, with two small children. She had no idea at all she was a grandmother when she died.
And December 2017 my mom died. Again.
This time for real.
And my heart is broken.
I had hoped beyond all hope that I would find my mother alive. I knew it was possible that she might have passed on, but I honestly believed that my mom, MY MOM, would be alive.
But she wasn’t. She was dead.
I didn’t even realize that what I’ve been doing the past several months is grieving. Grieving in the dark. Sure, some of the “stuff” has been adoptee related. If you’re an adoptee you know exactly what I’m talking about and if you’re not, well, you don’t. Plain and simple. Well – you might have some clue if you’re like my family who has been dealing with the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on the last year and a half. It’s been brutal for everyone.
I attended a writing retreat this last weekend. I had no idea what to expect from it. What I found was a ton of bottled up grief. As Author Ann Heffron said to me- “it’s going to kill you if you don’t get it out.”
So this site is taking a turn. Not what I expected when I started it. At all. Funny thing is I had only posted a few posts and then I had a good two weeks where I didn’t cry every day!!
I pronounced myself cured!
I was no longer in the fog. Life was good. Amazing really.
Until I found myself sobbing as I was driving down the freeway and then crying in a waiting room. Never a good thing. I’m sure it was some song or thought about my mom that set me off. Suddenly I was no longer okay anymore.
I wasn’t cured at all.
It’s hard to admit that I have a lifetime of grief bottled up. No wonder I’ve lived in chronic pain and have autoimmune issues. Nothing wants to live a fortress of grief. No wonder I had a heart attack a month after my 50th birthday. I dare not have another one.
But good Lord – if I don’t get rid of this horrible soul crushing grief it’s going to kill me.
And I don’t want that. At all.
So I’ve made a commitment to myself that I am going to write every day for the next 100 days – to save my life and finally do the grieving I should have done 56 years ago.
I’m Writing for Life!
I hope you’ll visit periodically. Just imagine the things I’ll be writing about – loss, despair and some really funny stuff in between. Life stuff that we all struggle with. If there is one thing I really learned this weekend it’s that we are all much more the same than we aren’t. Maybe you need to do a little grieving yourself? Either way – I’ll be here pounding it out.
Blessings to you for reading this far. I would love to have a little encouragement and heck, maybe even a hug or two. I’m feeling a bit fragile most of the time.
See you tomorrow.