Identity, Connection, Sense of Self

I have to admit that I do feel a little cheated. Living my whole life and only recently becoming aware that I’ve had no real concept of who I am. All inclusive.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day, May 11, 2014. That makes writing what will follow just a little easier and relevant.

In a nutshell, I’ve had 3 moms. My biological mom, Mildred. My adoptive mom, Mildred. And my “discovered by a fortunate mistake” as an adult pseudo-mom, Millie. My biological and adoptive mom have been deceased for some years, but Millie is still here.

For Mother’s Day…

To my biological mom, God bless you. Thank you for giving birth to me, and not getting an abortion like you mentioned was discussed.

To my adoptive mom, God bless you. Thank you for doing your best and raising me, even though we were both big disappointments for each other.

To my Millie mom, God bless you most of all. I wrote a letter, talked with you on the phone, and met you, during my search for my biological family. You’re one of those rare “Everybody’s Mom”, and I quickly became another one of your extended children. As it turned out, you already had a son, about a month older than me, plus several other children around my age. Still, you welcomed myself and my family in to your life, and we all became a part of yours. Let’s not forget your husband Willie too, even though this is about mothers and Mother’s Day. Over next the several years, visiting, stopping by the roadside produce stand when the ground was firm enough to park a semi on the shoulder of the road in front of it, and spending so many of the holidays together, Christmas Eve’s at your house. We had a connection, a bond, and still do. We haven’t seen each other in too long, but we still talk on the phone at least a few times a year. When ever I think of “mother”, the first and only person that comes to my mind is my Millie Mom.

One day, Millie first reminded me that it would be physically impossible for me to ever have been her kid, since she had another son born just about a month before me. Then she told me, that if it were possible for me to have been her son by birth, she would have been proud to have me as a son of hers. Then, she told me I’d always be “one of her kids” no matter what. Mothers are like that. I’m proud and fortunate to be s son of hers.

Millie Mom, Happy Mother’s Day. From one of your kids always, Mike.

 

About offworldengineer

Still alone. Still Alive. Still Unbroken.
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