When I was a pig-tailed little girl my parents brought me and my 2 flowered suitcases home, my only doll in hand, but they bought me a grey music dog that day. I am their daughter, but I always knew that I was daughter to someone else too; this was scary, cool and way too interesting for my mind. When I hit my teens it was in the forefront of my mind, and my mom told me as much as she knew, even let me read all the documentation she had and things remembered. Fast forwarding, I am doing an internship for grad school, and I meet a guy who knows my birth family, how could this be. He found my parents; they now knew I was fine, happy and asking about them. At the end of that year, I sent a card, pictures and my address, and the letters started...starting with a my first ever birthday card from her....but now there are no more birthday cards, parcels at Christmas, letters in the mail, telling me about her painting her house, baking, pickling, the car breaking down, what is going on with the locals, her sister, her brother, my brother..nothing.....I know that I am luckier than most, I have lost a Mother, but still have my mom and dad....but I can help but be sad as I re-read these letters that I just happened to save....I miss not having something friendly in my mailbox. The scroll of her writing, the misspellings of words, but always asking how my kids are doing, commenting on how they are growing and her awaiting of pictures in the mail....a year of an empty mailbox, but lucky to have had the 14 years that I had.
I can picture you with your two suitcases and one doll. What a resiliant child, adolescent and woman you have become. It would seem that both of your Mothers have given you gifts, one roots and the other wings. However, I am not sure which gift came from whom. A touching tribute. Sending you love and light.
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