Adopted kids have bad blood....

So, my sister texts me and asks if I wanted to "catch up."   We met late afternoon, had a glass of wine and a little bite of food.  We talked about what's currently happening in our lives.  She shared about the recent trip she took with her son and his wife who is pregnant.  I discussed our grandchildren and our plans for upcoming travel. 

I found myself feeling teary eyed as I confided in my sister that I had often wished that I could pick up the phone, and call mom.  I often pick up the phone to call mom,  and then I remember, that she has passed away.   I am somewhat falling apart as I tell my sister how I feel, now tears are running down my face.  

My sister, the woman who rarely shares anything of importance or "real" about her own life, her feelings, and her family, tells me, as I brush the tears from my eyes,  and as I am trying  to keep my composure, that mom would not be able to help you with your problems.  She stated that mom could never solve the problems between you and dad, what makes you think she could ever help you.     

It was like time had stood still as these words came out of my sisters mouth.  Again I told my sister  about often wanting to hear my mother's voice on the telephone, maybe she did not understand what I said, I thought?  Her facial expressions quickly changed, her tone of voice was telling  me how annoyed and angry she was truly  feeling, as though she was thinking,  "How dare you want my mother." As though I have no rights to call her my mother is what she could have been thinking?       Bam!   I hit the wall!   I was jolted back into reality again.   Just like that...the tears stopped, I woke up,  and quickly remembered who I was talking to!  

This woman sitting next to me,  I call my sister,  who "Pretends" that abuse was not served up  on a silver platter in our household, apparently it was only on my menu, is not a happy person!!  She wants to permanently sweep any evidence of abuse, both physical and emotional right into the large pile of dirt she has accumulated for the past 60 years.  My  God,  she's pretty much buried the truth of my life, the reality of our parents lives, six feet deep,  into its own grave!  

Just like that....just like that....ta-da....it's all gone!  Our parents have both passed away, and I guess shes lied about the reality of our parents her entire life, that she truthfully believes the lies she told herself and her own family and probably everyone else shes ever talked to over the years.   Those lies have become reality, for my sister and her children.  As time goes on, her grandchildren and great grandchildren will be fed these same lies I can only assume.  

When I said  that I wish I could talk to mom, have a conversation with her,  my sister feels threatened.  She quickly claims our mother as her own, and declares that our mother could not "Help me"  with any of "My problems" , as she could not help the "FANTASY" abuse that took place at the hands of both of my parents.   She did not say that, but what she did say was that our mother could not have helped me with the issues between dad and I.  See the difference, in her mind, I was the problem, and I am still the problem.  It was MY  problem with my dad, and it's  an unsolved problem between mom and I.  See how my sister has magically changed the reality of OUR family.  Oh, thats right, its not my family...ITS HERS!  Her mother was a saint, a person so kind and perfect, that God only knows shes been canonized a Saint.  Saint Mary, the woman who took part in the physical and emotional abuse of her adopted child.  Thats pretty neat, isn't it?  Such a kind thing to do, very saint like isn't it?  The child her husband did not want to adopt.  The husband  (and his mother) that felt adopting someone else's child, would not be "Their Blood" therefore I suppose this  meant  to all of them that the adopted child could be a monster, a thief, not trustworthy?   I really dont know what it meant to all of them , but that is what my own mother told me when I was a child, that my blood was an issue for my dad.  The words that came out of her mouth, the meaning was for me to figure out at age 9.  Gosh, I dont think it was a compliment, if dad did not want to adopt someone else's child that was not his blood, could only mean something negative?  Right?   The added bonus of abuse, being terrorized I actually call it, mixed with my bad blood, did not seem to be a winning combination for me?  Who would I go to and ask about this bad blood?      One could only come to the conclusion that adopted kids are bad, possibly hatched from an egg.  I was an ugly, dirty, bad girl...which is what I thought I was as a kid.  I dont think of myself  as bad, ugly, or dirty now, but the reality is, our family was 100% different than my sister pretends it was.  

So, my sister had to rear her ugliness at our "Catch up" get together.  That is not a surprise, not to me or my husband.  She always dishes out some sort of thinly veiled, backward jab with a smile on her face,  just barely showing just a little bit of her teeth.  A passive aggressive statement to somehow completely dismiss me as the daughter of her  mother, claiming our mother as her own.  

I have decided that I no longer need to catch up with my sister...I have already caught up.  I realize that adoption really  is a four letter word, a life sentence, even when ones adopted parents have gone up to heaven.  Leaving the fragmented remains of two women, one daughter  who feels she has all the rights to "Her"  parents and family, and the other woman, who has been left behind as some discarded piece of trash that is not even worthy of being able to long for her own mothers voice in a simple telephone conversation, stripped of the title of daughter in my sisters little, shallow cruel mind.   

Can you see now what you've done mom?

Can you see how much pain you have caused me ?  Can you now see that your  silence and  sweeping all the abuse and dysfunction under the carpet did not work out in the long run for your family?  By never standing up for what you believe to be right,  has permanently divided your family.  You wanted your daughters to be best friends after you are gone from this earth, however what you did while alive, made that absolutely impossible.  Never telling your birth daughter she is wrong and asking her to behave or at least be decent , by giving her the power to continue to be a controlling and miserable person has absolutley backfired   Can you see that favoring your birth daughters children has forever damaged my family?   At your funeral I had someone say they could feel the divide  and actually see it in the photographs.  

My sister and I got together to make a collage of our photos for moms funeral.  I brought about 20 photos, and my sister must have had at least 100.  As we laid the phtos out on the table, I was  in shock, seeing the actual proof, the evidence was hard to deny.  Photographs prove the lack of involvement my mom had with my family.  She never showed up for my daughters college granduations, she had 2.  She never made the trip up to Northern California to even see her college.  She did however travel to Arizona and Northern California to see both my sisters children graduate college.  My dad was so sick for my nieces graduation but they made the trip anyhow.   Last year mom didnt come to my daughters wedding either.  I guess it was too much work for my sister to travel with her.  I can somewhat understand that, however going back in time, and seeing the photos strewn all over the dining room table as we assembled the photo collage and hearing my niece and nephews eulogy at moms funeral just about stuck me in the heart with an arrow, I could feel the piercing of that arrow as they spoke their truth.  And I was in a trance as I pasted photos on this giant poster board I bought to make this collage for everyone to see at moms funeral.   

Because I am older now and have learned that being quiet and saying absolutely nothing is much more productive than speaking my truth to these people I call my family, I went through the motions, helped my sister as she froze not being able to cut up the photos for the collage, I did the job, but I did not enjoy this project as I found it heartbreaking to see how involved my mother was with my sisters children.  I was there but my heart was broken, seeing the undenyable proof in front of me.  

Adoption, in my case, is a four letter word.  The gift that keeps giving exclusion.  

Lets face it...

 Let's face it...."My Son" was mom's favorite,  my sister tells me.    My sister and her x husband came to see our newly remodeled home, we took them  for an early dinner and we had a good time. We both had a small drink,  and I chose each and every word that came out of my mouth, very, very....carefully.  I listened more than I spoke.  I am always cautious about what I share with my own sister.  She still, to this day, shares pretty much nothing of importance with me.  I guess I always find that to be an untrustworthy trait, for a sister at least?  I used to share way too much with her, and got tired of her sharing absolutely nothing with me about her life.  My husband, for years, urged me to stop telling her about our life, it took me many years to finally stop.   She waited six months to tell me that she and her husband divorced and he had already moved out before I was told.  We live 19 miles from each other, not 19 hours, and we've always lived very close to one another our entire lives.  Our families shared almost all Holidays together, mom & dads birthdays , anniversaries, you name it we were all together.  

My sister, feeling brave after having a drink,  goes on to list all of the things her son did for our mother.  A list of reasons in her mind, that made her son, our mother's favorite grandchild.    

I was at such a loss of words , I stood there, almost frozen by her coldness and listened as we walked to our cars.  As the words were coming out of her mouth, she was speaking it seemed, in slow motion.  At one point I couldn't hear her any longer, I could hear my heart beating in my chest, and I felt myself floating away, thinking I couldn't wait to get into the car and leave, and what seemed like an eternity as she told her story about her angelic son.  I was bargaining with myself, very quickly...do I shout at her and tell her to shut up, or maybe just punch her right in the nose?  Instead I stood there, with my mind contemplating all of the horrific things she's said and done  to me while our mother was slowly slipping away as she tries to prove to me that she and her son did more for our Mother than it seems, anyone else.  I chose to say nothing, and to be honest...after her first few sentences, I have absolutely no idea what she said to me as we said goodbye.

Let's face it, I was nobody's favorite, how could my children be "Our Mothers" favorite I thought?  How can she say such ridiculous things to me?  After all that has been said and done, she still feels the need to "One up me" or to hit me below the belt.  She still, after both of our parents being gone now for years, feels the need to flaunt her superiority,  proving that "She" is the important birth child and that her children still are our mothers favorite, and how she feels about our Mother is much more meaningful than how I feel about her.

Lets face it,  my sister feels that because she is our Mothers "Blood Relative" that her feelings, her regrets, her sorrow and grief are more meaningful and more important, than mine.  With her cunning words, she downplays anything and everything that I shared with our mother,  the time and precious moments we shared together.  

Lets face it, my sister still feels threatened by me,  as I wipe the tears running down my face as we drive home, I will always be my Mothers daughter and as much as she hates that idea, she can never change it.  Adoption, is a four letter word, it is the invisible abuse, the life altering decision nobody wants to talk about.  The others want to pretend that it's "My fault" - never wanting to own their part in the dysfunction and feelings they have about the fact that I was not born to my mother.  But trust me, at age 59, I can hear that pain in my sisters voice  and her lack of really saying to me..."She was MY mother not yours" and telling me that her pain, the loss of our Mother is much more meaningful to her than it is me.  If she could, I think she would say I have no right to anything that belongs to her.  

Let's face it, adoption doesn't always work, and I have to find a way to live with this reality.  

I miss Mom

With all the exclusion, the dysfunction, heartache and sadness, I still miss mom.  

Im sad she never got to meet my granddaughters, her great granddaughters.  

She never got to tell me how she felt inside,  for the rest of my life I have to sit and guess how she really felt about me and a lot of other unresovled feelings I still have.  I have to investigate every moment we had together.  Maybe the truth is waiting for me to be found, somewhere?  Some days I can feel the burning inside of my chest, the tears well up in my eyes, and I have  the deepest, most unbearable ache I have ever felt, knowing I will never see her again.  

I did find voicemails mom  left on my old cell phone.  When I accidentally stumbled upon them I felt absolutey sick to my stomach, I felt hysterical inside.  She left me a lot of voicemails as her memory became much worse.  She would call me when I was on my way to see her as she  would forget that I was even coming.  I played the voicemails, I heard her voice,  and it was the most painful thing I've done since watching her take her last breath.   I listened to all of them, one by one, hoping to find the answers, maybe she said something of importance?   When alive, I kept waiting, day after day, for her to say something special to me, hoping she would give me the anecdote for the years of abuse I endured.   A secret I never knew, or something so earthshattering that I would be able to say, "I understand" and not feel this way another moment in my life.  

What did my life mean to mom?  Did she  find it hard to feel the same way for me as she did her own birth child?  It sure felt that way to me, and I was like a  little child, waiting on each and every word that came out of moms mouth.... up until she passsed away.   My heart wants to believe that she loves me, but the reality of it all was that she struggled to have those feelings for me, I felt it, my husband felt it, as well as our grown children.   They feel as though they grew up without a grandmother, and feel mom had no voice, no opinion,  and sadly...she did not.  She sat and allowed a lot of unfavorable things to happen,  to be honest there was a lot of things she did not do that hurt just as much.  These unfavorable things continued to happen up until she couldnt remeber much due to dementia.    

My sister had said to me before mom passed, that I had the issues regarding adoption, insinuating that I had the problem.  I stopped her in her tracks, I told her very bodly, that NO...I did not have the issues, it was moms and the rest of the family that had the issues.   Why else did all this ugliness  happen over the years, up until our niece got married recently?  After her weddding,  I checked out, I distanced myself from all of them both physically and emotionally as best as I could.  I had to see mom at my sisters house until she passed away,  so I had to keep things somewhat mellow.   I have to say here, that regardless if other family members refuse to recognize what they are saying and doing , exclusion stinks, its paralyzing, its past devastating.

I see what it's done to our grown children, they have endured more than their fair share of disappointents with this family.  They have all become so used to behaving this way, that it's normal to them.  And sadly I blame my parents for this.  Mom never had an opinion about anything and would say, everyone is different.  That was her way of saying she refused to step up to the plate and make things right within our family.  I still cant believe my nephews eulogy stated that my mom never did a wrong thing in her life.  It was then that I fully understood he, my niece and sister  did have a different grandmother/mother .  How do I continue within this family when I feel so deeply different than the rest of them?  I cant speak the truth around any of them.  I have to listen and keep quiet and have little to no words from my mouth.  I feel like this adoption sentence may last a lifetime if I don't find a way to unbury myself from the emotional wreckage I have been left with since mom has left this earth.  

Am I still your daughter?

I had this thought pop into my head.  I wonder if I am still her daughter now that she is gone?   Does she still consider me her daughter in the afterlife?  Or now that she is gone and Im without a mother, am I still a sister and an aunt?  While she was alive my sister had to deal with me, have me around because mom wanted me to be there for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries and Holidays.  However now that mom is gone, I wonder,  am I still part of this family and do I still hold the title of daughter, sister and aunt?  

I felt the separation years ago, when my niece was married.  We were excluded from a lot of the festivites with regards to her wedding.   Our family took photos together, with the exception of me and my immediate family.  I am the only sibling and person that was excluded from this.  As well as our daughter was not invited to her only female cousins bachelorette party.  Even though they spent ever Holiday, birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas together their entire lives and they are so close in age.  They even went to high school together.  

Going back years when our kids were young, I accidentally ran into my sister and her family with my parents .  Shocked to find out they had been in town to visit "My sister and her kids" -but not me, I figured out...the hard way.  The moment I got out of the car at the grocery store,  to find my parents getting out of my sisters car, all dressed up.  That awkward and embarrasing moment when they realized they got caught.   My mom not sure what to say to me, and I felt sick to my stomach.   I got into my car, drove home in tears.    Why didnt they tell me they were coming out to our town, I speak to mom almost every day.  

 The college graduations for our daughter my parents never atteneded, yet they went to another state to see my sisters son graduate.  And yes they did attend my sisters daughters college graduation.  So many years of this heartbreaking exclusion and so many exclusions its hard to even process.  

So many people take for granted the gift of being included.  Inclusion is one of the most important things you can give someone.   I often wonder how my life could have been  if my parents would have included me in so many things throughout my life.  How my childrens lives could have been with grandparents, the type of grandparents my sisters kids had.  

Probably one of the saddest realizations since mom has passed away is that my grown adult children feel the loss of not having grandparents, even though they had them.  My sisters grown children got tatoos in memory of my mother, and when I told my daughter about it, she said..."Makes sense, she was their grandmother."  I felt as though I had been kicked in the stomach, and kind of literally shaken up.  I really question if she was ever my mother or my childrens grandmother.  Time keeps passing by, without you mom.  And each day I find it harder to believe that I will never have closure, and have to find a way to accept that I will never have the answers to these heartbreaking issues.  I have to somehow find a way to be OK with the fact that I may have been a child you could never truly love but just tolerate.   Love Cathy

Im the stranger

 Im 57 years old, and here I sit blogging about my feelings now that my mom has died.  I write about this to somehow free my mind of the thoughts that plague me daily.  The thought that I am still the stranger within my family.  At least that is how it feels to me.  I have felt this way as far back as I can remember having memories.  I would say before turning 2 years old I can remember feeling alone.  Feeling like I had been left at someone elses house, and was waiting to be picked up.  I spent most of my childhood hiding, in the closet, under furniture, and looking back now, I truly was hiding from the sadness of feeling like I was amongst strangers.  Analyzing this now, knowing what I now know, since moms death,  I have confirmed this because nothing earth shattering happened to make me feel differently about my position in this family before mom died.  What I felt as a baby is real,  I am the stranger and I have never really belonged to this family is how it feels to me.  

My parents were known in the community and they cared what their peers thought about them .  I truly believe that was the reason why I have been given half of my parents estate.  The lack of bond between my parents and I, and how I was treated, should have resulted in me being written out of their estate.  I am thankful for being included in this part of their lives, it will make our lives easier, but I often wonder how it would feel to be loved, truly adored and cared about by my own parents.   To look like them, to be like them, to be part of their family, and to be able to say that our children look like dad, grandpa or anyone in thier family would be amazing.  To never feel the pain of being treated differently because I was not born into the family.  

We went to dinner after moms funeral, my entire family and this was discussed, about how my sisters son looks like dad.  And other similarities in the family.  Here I sat with my husband, and 3 grown children, our daughter has a baby girl, our son is expecting a baby in December.  Do they not see or understand that we cannot really participate in this discussion?  Dont they wonder who my kids look like?  Wouldnt that be amazing for them to be even a bit conscious of how left out we all feel when they talk like this and how strange they become if I do mention who looks like whom in my family?  Why are they NOT interested to know who we all look like, and why would they be so selfish to think we only care about who they look like?  I didnt hatch from an egg, I am not some alien that fell from the sky.  I do have birth parents and many sets of grandparents.  This adoption was not my choice, and I did not choose to be excluded or treated like a stranger.  A stranger is someone who is not familiar, an outsider.  Trust me when I tell you that no adoptee ever wants to feel this way.  I just dont know if it is possible to change this within my family, as my efforts and hard work have not proven to be successful in these 57 years.  I have to admit failure and realize I cannot force others to love and accept me as their own.  

Its over...

Its been a lifetime of trying to win her over, a fight for her affection, attention and love.  Since I can remember, I have been holidng her hand, sitting in her lap,  practically begging for love.  I didnt know I was doing it at the time, it wasnt until much later in life, after I had children and they were grown, I realized I was fighting for something I could never attain.  I kept trying, for the majority of my life, I really believed if I was a good girl and keep trying, that I'd somehow be like her real daughter, right up until the moment she died I believed she would give me a sign.   A sign that let me know my efforts, love, affection, loyalty and devotion to her were not in vain.  I never got that sign from mom, and I cannot explain to you how deeply sad I am about this now.  I will never have another chance to make her mine.  

A few years ago I was scanning old photos for my nieces wedding present, you know making a huge photo album of our family photos and not wanting to use originals.  Since mom has died, family wants access to all the thousands of family photos I've scanned.  Digging deep in my cloud I added thousands of photos to Dropbox, one by one.   

One by one,  I noticed something I had never noticed before.  I’m holding moms hand , sometimes with one hand , sometimes with both of my hands, leaning into her body .  Clearly I was an affectionate small child.  The look on my face in between mom and dad in Christmas photos , I look proud .  I even lean into dad , appearing very affectionate, which I’m sure I was until I reached about 3rd grade and realized what was going on.  And of course I guess I wasn’t as cute by 3rd grade and the novelty of being the baby wore off .  By 3rd grade I must have found my own personality and started to have my own opinions.  Looking back now I realize dad must have not liked who I was even in 3rd grade  or  maybe I wasn’t as cute or maybe it was just because he never wanted to adopt and was forced into it by mom?  Probably a combination of all of these things but I’m guessing my looks and personality were drastically different than my sisters who was his biological child .  

I realized last night while cooking dinner that it’s over , this struggle, this fight to somehow prove to my mom that I am worthy of her love , affection and trust .  This deep desire to belong to this family , is over .  No more trying so hard to be perfect, to cook the perfect dish for birthdays and holidays.  No more trying to sell myself to a family who clearly has never truly accepted me as one of them .  As I cook my creamy potato cheese soup I think of mom , how she loved this soup and how I will never again cook her another meal .  I will never again try to prove my worth to any of them again .  Sacrifice my health and well being to somehow get a smile or the reaction that only in my mind means I am accepted as one them.  Every visit with them results in a score , we rate the visits like the Olympics . Score cards showing how this visit rates and I’m usually saying , oh they seem nicer or kinder this time . Hoping that somehow , someway,  I have managed to convince them that I am worthy of their love and trust . 

A GIANT burden has been lifted off my shoulders since mom has died.  The game is over , nobody won. Truthfully I am the biggest loser .  It is now clear,  they really just don’t trust me as they do their own blood related family .  If you were here and could see the way they acted and looked at me while my own mom was dying you’d understand why I felt I was intruding on their private and personal journey of watching mom die .  I was a stranger amongst them , not even appreciated like the paid caretakers were.  I have never felt so alone and lost in my life as I did in the hours before mom died.   At one point we were all standing around mom and I let my niece find a spot around her bed.  She looked at me and said no, you can stand here...shes your mother.  I paused, and had no answer or reaction to that.  I thought, oh...you really had to say that out loud, that she is my mother too?  Did you just realize that after 32 years of life?   

I realized as I wiped away my tears and served moms favorite soup ( from scratch ) last night, that the fight is over.  My dearest husband said to me "Dear" you have been married to me for 35 years, longer than you lived with your parents.  I am your family and so are our children.  We debated the issue, and it was clear to me last night for the first time, that mom really never was able to bond with me, or have the same feelings about me as she did her own birth child.  She wanted to have those feelings about me, but never could force herself to feel it. Its over now, the fight to try and win her over, to force her to have the same feelings about me, is absolutely over.  I will never be put in that situation again.  I will never feel like an intruder again with their family, the odd man out.   I realized last night that I dont have the same love for my own mom as the others do, not becusae I didnt try, and not because I didnt want that wonderful feeling of belonging to my mom,  but because she has failed me her entire life.  It is my moms fault and no fault of mine, and somehow I have to accept this hearbreaking reality and keep breathing and living each day.  Some mornings I wake up and cant believe I will never get another chance to make it right with mom, but I also have found comfort in knowing the fight to belong to her and the rest of my family is over.  

Belonging

I never belonged, not really.  If I had been a birth child I wouldn’t have experienced such heartbreaking circumstances as my mother died .  Belonging means your always included in everything .  Your opinion and feelings matter .  Nobody can tell me this is not true , I stood and watched it happen as my mom died .  I saw with my own two eyes what it means to really belong .  It’s a club I have never been part of , never belonged to ,  they all have this language they speak with one another , it’s a foreign language to me.  They have received unconditional love from my mom , all of them .  They have all been adored , accepted , tolerated when behaving badly or when they've made a mistake, forgiven .  They look at mom and see themselves in her eyes.   They have a connection I’ve never been able to achieve with my own mom.   I can guarantee this exists , when you are brutally honest with yourself and when you can actually be quiet long enough  and can openly observe the interactions between the blood related family , it’s very obvious.  I felt like I was in another universe as I watched this happen, and I have never felt so alone in my entire life .  

I reflected on the times I felt alone , going back to childhood I was alone , I can recall being 2 years old and knowing I was alone and I always felt lost.   As though any minute my family would be driving up to come get me . As my mother died , I have never felt so alone , so absolutely broken , and at that moment I felt like an intruder , disrupting another families loss of their mother and grandmother.  It almost felt like my sister was wanting me to leave , that was confirmed when the hired caretaker approached me and with this threatening tone of voice asked me if I needed to leave. I said , uh ….no & walked away from her as fast as I could .  This same woman asked me why I have never been involved with my mothers life ?  The same woman who was clearly fed a lot of lies one can only assume from my sister.  Not only was I alone , I was being threatened by this woman who had no idea what has happened within my family my entire life. 

I tolerated the most excruciating pain watching mom die , and the most cruel behavior via my sister .  I do not think what she has done to me can ever be forgiven. Some things are not forgivable .   This is one of those things, where she altered the experience I had with mom as she passed away .  I was ignored , silenced and was not free to give advice or my opinion about moms struggle in the end . My sister trusted these strangers she hired more than she did me .  Let me tell you some of these women were absolutely crazy , and my sister put more trust and faith in them then me ,  I honestly don’t even know how much this has damaged me yet as I am still trying to wrap my head around what a horrible person my sister really is . By definition I’d say she’s a monster.  . To befriend strangers and make them believe she’s taken care of mom alone all of these years as though I never existed .  To take credit for years of caring and time I spent with mom , she literally re wrote history and made these caretakers believe #1 that she was married , she’s been divorced for many years & her husband had to come back to live with her due to finances , #2 that she’s been taking care of mom alone, without my help .  I was literally written out of my family, poof…..I am gone as though I never existed. 

As my mom reached the end , I was told by my sister that she got to make all the decisions about mom , and that nobody would force her to change her mind .  Mom was clearly suffering , and I suggested she take off the oxygen , at that point I had already argued with my sister as she had refused to follow moms wishes , to give pain relief if she was nearing death. The hospice nurse had told her the oxygen was not necessary.  Of course drama Queen sister insinuated she was pulling the plug by removing the oxygen.  Again I had no voice and decided to keep quiet , luckily her son stepped up and said that’s ridiculous, taking off oxygen is far from pulling the plug mom !  My sister made it very clear this was her mother & I had no place in this family and I wasn’t free to give my opinion.  Trust me I have never felt the “difference” so clearly as I did when my mom was dying .  

What my sister has done can never be undone.  She has forever changed how I feel about her.  Where I used to give her the benefit of the doubt , I no longer do and I can barely tolerate to see her face or hear her voice .  I don’t think she even deserves to be called my sister.  To me she is the most hateful and jealous people I have ever met.  The sick part is , how she could lie to complete strangers to get false sympathy during the time mom was sick and dying .  These women believed her and to lie to people like she’s done is a form of serious  mental illness in my opinion.  The one caretaker came to moms funeral with roses for my sister , I said nothing but inside I was thinking ; this woman has no idea what a horrible person my sister is .  I have to walk away , and know my life is happy and accept that my family is the one I made with my husband of 35 years and counting .  

Saint mom

At moms funeral my niece and nephew referred to mom as "The Saint."  My sister made sure the priest who did not know my family , heard the story about dad calling mom "The Saint."  The joke is on them.  My dad called mom a saint for another reason, it was not an endearing term.  I had heard it throughought the years growing up when my sister had already left the house.   This was a derogatory term,  insinuating that mom was not interested in sex.  I was quite shocked my sister didnt understand this and used this at moms funeral for the priests opening words, cannonizing my mom, "The Saint" so to speak.   I was mortified, yes dad called mom a saint, but not for the reasons my sister thinks.  

I cannot tell you how hard it was to listen to my niece and nephews eulogy.  My mom was referred to as the perfect person, one who never did anything wrong in her life.  Saint mom, the one who allowed such horrific abuse to take place right in front of her own two eyes, as blood was drawn, for years.  The same woman who went to work and saved peoples lives as a nurse.  Only to come home and allow her bully husband to do the unthinkable to me  The same woman who suggested I take my children to a homeless shelter when we needed a place to stay when the kids were little and we had lost our rental. Yeah, what a saint.  

The woman who refused to allow my daughter in laws family into her kitchen because she didnt want dark skinned people touching her belongings.  I will blog about this later, but this is not the life of a saint.  

In my opinion, when you decide to not have an opinion about something and take no action, that is a decision.  Doing nothing is a decision.  My mom spent her entire life making very few decisions and taking little to no action regarding anything.  Her usual resonse to something terribly wrong was, "Everyone is different."  This woman never had much of an opinion when it came to serious subjects such as abandonment or exlucsion, abuse, and other life alterning issues.  Her excuse, we are all different.   That is how she got out of making things right within her family, the cop out, the never ending excuse that allowed her and her partner in cime, her husband,  and my father to continue abusing those they should have loved.  If I ever hear how wonderful their marriage was again, I may not be able to keep quiet.  

Mom was not a horrible person, but lets make this clear, mom was far from a saint.  

Broken at both ends

There is nothing I want more than to have peace, at both ends.  You ask, what is both ends?  No, its not what your thinking.  For an adoptee in reunion, its the balancing of both families.  You try to keep everyone happy, to avoid conflict or hurt feelings.  That is how I have felt about my adoption over the years.   I have failed miserably, and I realize I cannot and will not have peace with both families in this lifetime.  

Birth woman never spent  Holidays with my adoptive family.  No relationship was built between my mom and my birth woman. Birth dad wouldnt even acknowledge I am his child.  My full brother is mentally ill and a non functioning person.    Adoptees (me) have no idea how to handle both ends.  Do I insist birth woman comes for hoidays with  my adoptive family and suffer the consequences?  Do I continue to send birth family members a Christmas card even though I have got little to nothing in return ?  Do I try to have some sort of relationship with my birth mom who is a complete stranger to my family?  What are the boundaries for an adoptee in reunion, do you know?   

Then there is the issue that I have not been included in the birth families.   There is so much guilt that the birth families cannot  have a meaningful relationship with me.    Who is the better family?  Who has the least amount of issues and dysfunction? This has been the debate for over 30 years.   There is also a lot of comparison going on, behind the scenes.  Years of discussion about this parent having problems and is not any better than the birth parent.   Constant defending the family one has grown up with.  As though I can have deep feelings and attachment to the mother I did not grow up with.  Trust me, I cant, and I have tried.  This is not exactly my fault, its also a birth mom who keeps me at an arms length distance.  Feels uncomfortable hugging me or holding me in a way a mother does.  I honestly do not ever remember her ever telling me, "I Love you" - because I don't think she has.  How does a person cope with this, and survive it?   

This is the brokenness I speak of,  broken relationships that cannot ever be fixed.  I am not the daughter to her, I am the baby she lost.  She kept my brother, and even though he is mentally ill, not functioning and she has made a career out of enabling him, she still sees him as her only child.  She can lie to me, and the entire world, but I know and feel the truth.  She does not have two children, she has one.

Its difficult when you get to the point where you realize there is no hope.   I am nearing the end of this journey and I can clearly see there is no way to make things right.  

Lost but not found

When I was found, I was almost 20 years old.    I blindly walked into reunion, expecting rainbows, ice cream cones, hugs and kisses.  I expected them all to love me, adore me, to want to know my entire life, play by play.  I was convinced they would want my precious keepsakes, like baby teeth I left out for the tooth fairy.  My blonde curls my mom cut and preserved in the family bible.  I thought reunion was going to be like "going home."  They would all understand me, think like me, and would teach me how to cook all the special secret family recipes I missed all those years. 

Meeting the families, I quickly realized something was just not quite right.    Why was everyone staring at me with confusion?  One grandma looked horrified and the other was scanning through my baby pictures to see if there was a resemblance.  That is what it looked like to me.  Then my one grandma asks for a nitro glycerin.  OK, I thought to myself, something is definitely not right, and now that grandma is popping a pill while looking at my baby pictures, its a confirmation!  

She starts to cry, something to the effect of, oh my baby, while looking at my baby pictures.   That is what I remember, I could be wrong, but it was for sure a distressed situation.  Looking back, I can now see the unspoken debate that was going on between all the adults.  My birth mom was somewhat amused, and everyone else seemed frantic, and the chaos of everyones emotions was very apparant to me.   My birth mom walked me to my car and I asked her, what is going on?  She gave me some ridiculous story that left me even more confused.   That was a long drive home, alone, with my thoughts.  For 20 years I had waited for this moment, my heart felt heavy, and I knew I wasn't getting ice cream, or cooking lessons,  the hugs and kisses didn't seem too promising.

I didnt know the truth behind my adoption, but I figured it was not going to be the truth I was told by my parents.    I heard a couple different stories, your birth  parents loved you so much but couldnt care for you.  My dad told the story of how I was picked out in the store, he'd  point to the imaginary wall and say, "This baby, no this baby" like they were shopping for a new toaster.   

I was pretty shocked when my birth mom sent me photos of herself and family,  in the mail.  I was expecting her to be a blonde, I had no idea she was part Lebanese.  She now likes to say I knew, but I did not know. I had a paper with non identifying information that really equaled nothing.

I did not receive anything from my birth dad in the mail, but I later spoke to him and we met alone.  I cannot deny the fact that I was so nervous, I was just a kid. 

The truth as I now see it, is a variation of different stories I have heard from different family members throughout the years.  My birth mom became pregnant with me.  She was dating (now confirmed) birth dad.  At some point in time, she wrote a letter to another boy she liked.  Saying something like, she didnt think his parents would allow him to marry her, so shes going to have now confirmed birth dad marry her.  But in this letter she tells this other boy, she cant wait for "Their" bundle of joy.   Probably the most disturbing story I have heard in all these years is the one my birth mom told me after we met.  She tells me her best friend came over,  she sat in boiling hot baths and used a coca cola douche, let your imagination decide what they were trying to do.

So at one point early in reunion, I went out to dinner with my birth dad, his mom and the family.  I was asked what blood type I was, at this point I really was not sure what was going on.  My birth mom has not been the most trusted source, in all these years, but she was very crafty and cunning throughout this whole ordeal.   She was smart, did not tell me the story, instead let me suffer and it took years for me to really understand completely what was going on. 

It wasn't until 2016 when my daughter somewhat forced me into doing Ancestry DNA.   She ordered the test and had it shipped to me.  Weeks went by, and I stared at that test, and finally after weeks of my daughter calling and asking me if I spit in that darn thing, I had the nerve to actually do it.  I sealed the box and dropped it off at the post office.  Then I started wondering to myself, what if my birth dad is not oneof the two men that I was told about ?  What if he's someone else, what then?  Weeks went by  and I was so anxious waiting for the results.  My daughter had already done the Ancestry DNA test and had her results.  I was driving to the grocery store and it hit me,  I can figure out the answer via her DNA results.  I went home and searched through her DNA results.  TA-DAA!    There it was, the answer to the question I have wondered about for 35 years.  

I decided to wait until my own DNA results to come in to tell anyone, even though I knew the man I had met was 100% my dad. 

Let me tell you, getting my DNA results was a  liberating moment for me.  Not knowing who fathered you for 52 years is a big deal.   I beg to differ with all those people who think I did it for revenge or some other stupid reason.  I did it for myself, I wanted to know my heritage and  I think every person should know this basic information, its their birth given right. 

OK, off my soap box!  But seriously, if it were not for modern science and DNA testing linking me to DNA matches who have extensive family trees, I would still not know the answer today. 

Divorced my birth mom

I started back to therapy, for a short time and decided to go back to Al-Anon.  I've been MIA for 16 years and decided it was time seeing the new challenges in my life.  I feel like I am in a better place now to process and make permanent decisions on a lot of  issues I have struggled with for 34 years.  One of them being my birth mom. 

I have made a difficult and permanent decision, and that was one of the reason for therapy.  I have decided, with the help of my therapist, to divorce my birth mom.  It is necessary and long overdue.  I have continued over the years to keep this "Fantasy" alive.  I have kept up the charade that my birth mom will somehow miraculously change and be my fantasy mom.

Its an awakening for me,  I feel like I have just woke up from a long sleep.  I've looked around and realized I have been punishing myself, and practically begging this woman to love me.  To accept me, and maybe even give me a hug and say, "I love you, unconditionally, no matter what."   I've compromised, Ive given more than I have received, and truthfully, I do not like what I have been offered.  I have been cheating myself, pretending that it doesn't matter, because she gave birth to me and I have to accept her the way she is.  I have even tried to convince her to love my children, her grandchildren, based on Ancestry rules.   She doesnt know my kids, and has never been interested in them since they were born. 

NO WAY!  Another BAM, smack in the face moment.  A punch in the gut for me, literally!  Hey, guess what, NO, I do NOT have to continue to speak to you because you gave birth to me.  I get to decide who is in my life,  and I have made the decision that I am a pretty good gal, and I am worthy of being loved, adored, appreciated and respected, unconditionally!  

I have raised with my husband, three wonderful humans.  Somehow, this woman I call my birth mom thinks her absence all these years is not a big deal.  She feels she can reap the benefits of calling our children "Her grandchildren" even if she has been absent most of their lives.  She feels it makes her look good, to have these three wonderful people as her grandchildren.   She would like to turn these wonderful humans against my husband and I, if possible....which it is not possible. 

The child she kept, is an addict, mentally ill and is a non functioning person.  My full birth brother is a sad person.  But he is also a dangerous person at the same time from what we have experienced.  Our grown kids do not trust him.    Another BAM, in my face moment.  I do not want him in my life either, and my family does not want him in their lives .  And guess what Cathy, you can say "NO."  I have said NO! 

I was knee deep in making a family tree on Ancestry.  I drove down and borrowed my birth moms family pictures to scan them.  I did a lot of work, put them all in new scrap books, organized everything.  I have found all the missing families in Lebanon, not an easy task.

Then the reality of it all sunk in.  Jealousy can be a dangerous emotion, dangerous and ugly and I believe this emotion is the catalyst for her behavior.   I had actually spoke to my brother on private messenger for the first time in about 13 years.  He asked about our grown kids, their jobs & lives.  I told him they are all happy, successful and in jobs that support them and we couldn't be happier for them all.   My birth mom stated she did not want to know what my brother and I talk about and not to even hint about our conversations.  OK, no big deal.    Next thing I know I am receiving a private message from her asking me not to tell my brother that our kids are successful and rich!  Yes, I quote "Rich."  Well, I have never stated anyone in my family are rich, its just not true!  hahaha!  She stated that by telling my brother that my kids have good jobs and are successful , will discourage him from seeking mental help!  OMG!  Seriously?   He has been unstable and non functioning since his early 20's and he's now pushing 44 years old! 

I guess that rule of not telling about my conversations with my brother only applies to me!  He must have told her half truths about our conversation!  Birth mom tells me that he feels bad that "The kids" are doing so well, he feels like a failure, etc.   I reminded her that our kids are grown adults now, does my brother realize the oldest is 29 and should be in jobs to support themselves now!  Hmmmm....well birth mom, your constant enabling of this grown man may be a big reason why he is almost 44 and still repeating the same mistakes and not seeking help and not able to take care of himself!     She clearly does not see what she is doing, and it is NOT my place or job to make her see.   Sad, but true, I just cant exert another ounce of energy on these two.   They are not my problem! 

Seriously, who does she think she is?   She then has the nerve to elude to the fact that my brother has never done anything to our kids over the past 20 years.  And has no idea why they have no interest in having a relationship with him!    WOW!   One can only guess that she has conveniently stuffed all the craziness that me, my husband and three grown adult children have experienced with my brother over the past 20 plus years.  Like its all erased, never existed and we are made out to be the liars, the mentally ill ones.   She has done this before, given me my brothers life and my life to my brother.  What is even more frightening, she is believable, and she is convincing, and charming and I feel she is also a person one cannot trust. I finally had a voice and spoke up and said, OK birth mom, what do you think would happen if my grown kids saw him now?  Do you think he is fit and mentally OK to see them?  She answered NO!  I said you are correct, if they saw him now, they'd never give him another chance!  My brother has sent me the most bizarre and crazy messages, my oldest son has said that he is "Tweaking" on drugs or is in some sort of psychosis.  Either could be true, he's done  hard core drugs over the years, and I truly believe he is still doing them now.  He was recently in jail I heard, and from what I understand was detoxing while in jail.  Yeah, I know, I made this up too, its all a lie, he really was not in jail, and if you spoke to birth mom, she'd convince you I made it all up and I was the one in jail!  HAHAHAHA! 

She has absolutely nothing to offer me.  No love, loyalty,  time, kindness, truth, stability, absolutely nothing.  Her morals, ideals, way of living and even her mother skills are completely and utterly opposite than mine. If she had not given birth to me, I would never even consider her as a friend.  Her title is no longer important to me, and truthfully she is nothing more than an egg donor.

I had a revelation that I wish I had never met her, just found out the ancestry information I dearly wanted.  Looking back I realize it was a mistake to waste so much time and energy on a woman who clearly has no plans on loving me, adoring me and my kids,  and a person who without batting an eyelash, is capable of betraying me! 

Adoption and exclusion

I'd like to say I was not adopted, that I was born to my mom and dad. It really would be wonderful, so much easier and less heartbreaking for me.    Time ticks away, the days pass by, I wake up, go to bed and another year has passed and nothing has changed.  It has been said for many years, oh there is no difference if your adopted,  we feel the same about you as the child [we gave birth to].  I sometimes can keep up the charade and pretend there is no difference.  Until there is a difference and those differences are practically shoved down my throat by those telling me there is no difference!

How can I continue to pretend there is no difference ?   My only sister, who's only daughter excludes my daughter from her wedding activities, they have grown up together.  They have spent every important moment together over the past 27 years, I video taped her birth, .  The exclusion is so overwhelming to me, I cannot breathe.  I am questioning the relationships within my family,  and I finally spoke up and told my sister it is dreadfully wrong and mean what her daughter has done.  Nothing will ever be the same, and unfortunately that is the truth.  I told my mom how I felt, she has no opinion, she doesnt want to take sides.  There are no sides!  She seems sad, but not sad enough to have a voice and speak up!    My niece has made comments over the years, probably without my sisters knowledge but nonetheless, it happened.  "Who is your mom anyhow" when discussing who looks like whom within our family . Does not take a brain surgeon to realize my children cannot look like my parents or their relatives, however my niece and nephew do look like them. DUH!   Its just a fact of life.  No fault of mine, or my children, yet I cant help but think this has been discussed within their family which is why she has said these things to me over the years and excluded my daughter.   Now she is getting married, and I did believe things were OK , the kids are all grown and I really thought my niece was different!!!

I realized I was wrong, my beliefs about how the others in my family feel for me and my family are brutally wrong.  Its a harsh and ugly reality, the most ugly feeling I have felt.  I planned my nieces engagement party last Thanksgiving, spent weeks hand painting signs and making custom napkin rings with their photo, along with a custom engagement photo book.  I was so excited, the first kid to get married in our family.

Turns out it is not exactly my family.  Its their family, and that is exactly how we all feel.  We debated about attending the wedding shower, but we went because as my daughter said, we do whats right.  Walking into the wedding shower I quickly realized most these women did not know my sister even had a sister.  I was not introduced, and went to the hostess and introduced myself.  She said, and I quote, "Oh my God, I didnt know {my sister} had a sister."  She went on to say that she did not see a photo of me anywhere,  I took the time to have many pictures printed for my sister to frame and place around the wedding shower.  The hostess was correct, not a single picture of me, anywhere.

BAM!  Slug in the gut, slap in the face, I am falling off a cliff, down down down down I go, spiraling out of control.  I hold it together long enough to make it through the shower.  However I know the maid of honor, the hostess' daughter.  I picked that girl up the next morning after many high school parties.  When my daughter and I arrived at the shower, rang the doorbell, another birdesmaid we know answered the door.  She pretended not to know us, did not recognize us!  The rude bridesmaids and maid of honor could not bring themselves to speak to us, I know we must seem like some other species, not human. That is how we felt.  My kids know many of these bridesmaids as they all went to the same schools throughout their lives. 

The difference is huge, so big that it has divided our families.  My sister has told me that it does not matter what I wear to the wedding when I discussed wanting to blend with her and mom.  Said I can wear a cocktail dress if I want to, I'm not part of the family so it doesnt matter.   I have realized throughout all of this, I am just a guest.  I cannot tell you how badly this has broken me, my heart, my soul, and to be honest it has blown me away so badly I dont even know how much damage this has done yet!   And I am still trying to sort out how I could have been so wrong, how I could have believed that my sister and her family loved me and considered me their family.

All I know is that if adoption did not exist, I would not be blogging and going to therapy.  They go about their day, as though nothing is wrong, and they really have no desire to apologize or make things right, if they even know there is a problem?????.  My daughter and I did receive a long text from my niece, she sounded like she was writing a letter to one of her clients, trying to win an account.  As I have said many times, your actions speak louder than your words.

The lost bond of adoption

As time goes by and my birthday candles keep increasing, I realize there is one thing I cannot escape.   There is no anger or resentment, only a bit of sadness left as I realize there is nothing I can do to change "what is."  

Its a life sentence I have been given, a lesson to learn, again and again,  and at times I feel I have mastered the whole mess!   But some days, like today,  it seems too large of a cross to bear,  and I feel the strength I've built up, to escape the anger...weakening.  I feel weak today.   Something happens, a look in my moms eyes , a touch, a gesture,  a small sentence spoken that makes my heart skip a beat.  Time stands still,  its like an out of body experience,  everything is moving in slow motion, and I want to  take a picture, and show them "this right here" is what I am missing.  I don't get that same look, I don't get the same touch or gesture, or the deep love in that small sentence.    So many people overlook, don't appreciate, or even recognize that "Belonging" is such a gift.  The bond created when a mother gives birth, gets the privilege of keeping her baby is overwhelmingly different.   Different than that bond  of an adopted child.  There really is a language they speak to one another, when the bond is not broken.  

Nobody can tell me differently, if I could capture the moment, I would.  I could show you, prove to the world I have been cheated.  I deserve to allow myself to grieve, but I also deserve to never feel like this again.  I don't want this feeling another day, another minute or even second of my life.  But I also cannot deny the existence of what I see.  I know that touch, I know that gesture, and the secret language that is spoken between a mother and her children.  I experience that with my own children.  

In time I will learn to accept what I cannot change. 

Taking a break

I have decided to take a break.  After losing my dad and now my mom is ill, I think it best if I take a break from blogging for now. 

Its amazing how much adoption affects a persons life, when family members pass away the issues of adoption are alive and painful.  It also amazes me how many people involved just brush it all off, sweep it under the carpet.  There is nothing to be done, for now.   Its heartbreaking, realizing what I will never have, the things I've wanted for so many years are so far away, just out of reach.  Debilitating to a point, the desires and wants I have, that I now realize I can never attain in this lifetime. 

Grown babies are not the same...

My birth mom had been texting me, nothing really earth shattering, just common things like she's working a lot, its hot outside, can't wait for the weather to change.  I was telling about my dad dying.  We were not talking about my (brother) but she did bring him up a bit, and the way she talked about him you'd think he was fine.  In the past she spoke about my (brothers) girlfriend, as though the situation was,  in my mind, normal.

Being the searcher that I am, and the information at everyone's fingertips via internet, I looked for myself.  If people do not make their social media "Private" it is open for the world to see. What I saw of my (brother) I did not like,  I don't think I am being cruel, just brutally honest.     I have to be honest, with myself about "What Is."  I went my entire life before getting married in fantasy land, even years after getting married.  Pretending that what was happening was not happening.  It still goes on to a point now, within my family.  But I cannot pretend that a person is wonderful when in reality they are not.  I searched and found that my (brothers) girlfriend is my youngest sons age.

Anyhow, back on topic.  My birth mom and I do not agree.  She feels other men are pigs  for dating super young women.  However she feels her son dating inappropriately  young women is perfectly fine.  We will never agree.

I started blogging years ago after dealing with my birth moms betrayal and years of her ignoring me, and a lot of wounds dealing with adoption and just life.   I really thought she'd want to know me, get another chance with me by being part of my children's lives, but in reality that was not the case.  She searched for me, paid someone to find me, and once she did, it was like she disappeared so to speak.  I have to be honest and say she did change, the woman I met in 1984 is not the woman in year 2015.   I really don't know her, she changed back around 1993, a lot of years lost.   I'd like things to be different, but they can't be changed, and unfortunately, she has no intention on changing.   She has chosen my (brother) and has decided to dig her heels in the sand and ignore me, my family, my children and I am guessing my own grandchildren when the time comes.

So this accident, of texting another woman named (Cathy) with a "k" was when I realized this recent texting was just so she had something to gossip about.  Anything and everything I had to say she was turning around like a teenager and gossiping about it.   When I texted her back and told her that I realized she accidentally texted me, her response was ridiculous, and its embarrasing reading her text.  She told her best friend (Kathy) that I had told her about my dad dying, and that I had some nerve telling her this when I have a blog about "Her."   Her text messages got ridiculous, after realizing she had made a mistake and whoops, texted me!   Here's our dialogue:

ME:  I'm guessing that was for the other "Cathy"

HER:  What?  Don't know...I got phone back now, Linda was using it.  She's in fight with her mom, she's controlling her life, $$ etc...They fight like cats & dogs...guess its the heat?

HER:  I'm getting on freeway, can't wait to get home sweating like a pig!

ME:: I do have a blog-its not about you, its about me and my experience & life.  If everyone was honest and faced what has been done and what has happened, there wouldn't be a big surprise I write this blog.  Its what has saved me dealing with everything.

ME:  You and I have had a strained relationship and you know why.  I am not the bad guy in all this, not one person is to blame.

ME:  I was around when your mom died and after - it shouldn't be so hard listening to my experience now - Im guessing you talk to non related people about life.

ME:  I do too - I also question why we are talking - its unfortunate that (my brothers) life has changed ours because I have not had a firm solid relationship with anyone - I understand how you feel for me is different.  Its expected.  But I also remember the old you - how you used to be, even the old (brother) which always gives me hope that maybe it can be fixed, be how it used to be.

ME:  IF that is wrong, I am wrong.

ME:  I don't want anything from you but probably what Ive always wanted which never happened, without going into a long explanation.  You know.  The things you never got from YOUR mom.

ME: Im a double loser, I've lost out on 2 moms, that is my cross to carry

ME:  And no I don't really have strong ties to anyone except Steve, and our 3 kids and my sister.  I have accepted that.  I am loyal to my parents and sister-no they are not perfect, nobody is, but I have more history with them growing up than I do you and (brother)

ME:: I would have liked it to be different - but its not and probably cannot be.  I'd love to have you come rushing to me with open arms, saying you were wrong and that you love me.  Yep that is what Id like, not very realistic but that is the truth

ME:  The anger over time is disappointment and realization I will never have a mom.  That is why I blog.  Its about me.  not you per-se - just as I am not that baby you lost .  I am not mad, just greatly disappointed.  I had a lot of dreams and hope.

ME:  Anyhow you don't have to keep talking to me, I get it.

HER:  I don't have a problem with you voicing your opinions, feelings & thoughts.  Your entitled.  Its really hot today & Im working so I can't really say much right now.  My client yesterday was having similar issues with her mom & daughter.  They all write about their feelings, thats how this was brought up.  Its more common than u think.  will TTYL

Anyhow, the weather seemed to be more important than anything.  Forget about how I feel.  We had a little conversation, and we discussed her brother that went missing in action, so I accidentally found pics of her other brother and their son who is now in college.  She had not seen pics of him in probably 14 years, so I texted her pics of him now.  She never did respond again,  the last text was August 29, 2015.

So the bottom line is,  I  endured one death after another.  Her dads death, then her moms death, then her brothers death, birth dads mom.    I went to all of their funerals.  Not a single one had a picture of me in the pictures that were posted at the funeral, just my brother!   My uncle  was homeless and living in a shelter, a prior heroine addict when he died.  I bought the food for the funeral, which is not the important thing, but the fact that I was involved was the important fact.

Now she is bitching that I have told her about the misery surrounding my dad dying, and she has the audacity to mimic me, yet talk nice to me in text?  Seriously?  Her mom had said to me when alive,  in a nasty voice and with a bitter look on her face, that "She did not owe me nothin" - this somehow escaped from her mouth, although it shouldn't have!  This was when I stopped to say hello to her on my way home from somewhere, before she died.  I never asked anyone in my birth family for money, for material items....just love and attention.   I sat with my birth mom after her mom had died, in the hospital, for probably 8 hours.  It was not fun, they had to leave the ventilator in her mouth, so it was a very heartbreaking experience for me, and I had never seen someone die before.

I wish I could understand where she is coming from.  I have made it very clear how I feel.  My brother is bipolar, has permanent brain damage from drug use, has severe OCD, panic disorder, and lives his life on the edge and is an addict.  He dates a girl old enough to be his daughter, who incidentally looks like a pole dancer, and has naked pics of herself on the internet for the world to see.  I am dreadfully embarrassed to admit this man is related to me.  As my oldest  son has said, my (brother) is a pervert, none of my kids can believe he dates little girls, I'm included in this!   My birth mom does not even know my kids, I don't think she even knows me.  She has lied about me, written letter to a (now x friend ) of mine, words she wrote I don't know that I can ever undo.  She has never apologized, said she is sorry, that she is wrong, and probably worse of all she has never said I love you, that I can recall.

I feel I deserve more than this, and I am lovable, and I am trustworthy.  Having said this, I cannot change her and my (brothers) life choices, and again, this is even a good example of how the "Adoptee" looks like the crazy one.  In their little cuckoo circle and altered reality they live in, I am painted as the crazy daughter who lies, that tells stories, and I would bet my own life that this woman I call my birth mom has lied to her friend "Kathy" about what has happened, and anyone and everyone who will listen to her.  I can guarantee I am painted as the crazy daughter, as she wrote my X Friend,  made me appear to be the mentally ill person and gave my (brother) my life.  He is the one that is supposedly living a normal life, with a wife and kids!!!!!  Hahahaha!  Even though he's never been married and has no children.

THIS IS HOW ADOPTION HAS ROYALLY MESSED WITH MY LIFE.  Non-adoptee's don't deal with this sort of thing, and probably the most shocking thing is SHE KEPT him and not me, and even after all these years, even after I have honestly lived a very genuinely good life, she paints me as the CRAZY GIRL!  The dirty, disheveled, tossed away girl, left on the side of the road, or in the shopping cart, that nobody wanted.

There it is, another angle of adoption that not everyone out there understands.  No resolution.

Reluctant to speak

I've come to a point in my life where talking about how I feel and helping others understand what its like to be in my shoes, is not worth it.   I end up looking like the crazy woman, who obviously has a large chip on her shoulder.  I feel that talking about things and being up front about my own feelings is important and has been a vital part of my journey, but now that I have said what Ive said over the years, its not making a difference.

When I say these words, "Family Preservation" its like I have just said something very wrong, like threatening world peace, or insulting a religion.  People in general have this idea, that adoption automatically equals insane happiness,  and the adoptee should feel thankful, lucky and sometimes appreciative to even be alive.  

I wonder if our world will catch up ?  Will people ever understand what adoption means?  Will they admit and openly discuss the fact that adoptee's really do lose their ancestry with adoption.  Their constitutional right to their birth records, and in reality, they are expected to lose their rights to free speech.  IF we do speak, we look like the crazy ones, because the general public, it seems everywhere in this world is still back in 1950 somewhere, lost in space with the entire adoption reality.

So here I am, age 50, and I am still afraid, somewhat reluctant now that I'm a bit older, to even speak out loud to anyone about the reality of adoption, the good and the bad.  My adoption experience, even in a random conversation.  I stop, think very hard about what I am going to say, if it will spark controversy, or will offend someone.  We had gone into this store where they sell facial products, my sister allowed them to put the product on her face, I waited by the door talking to some of the kids working there.  The one guy said to me, you are sisters, you don't look anything alike, and jokingly said, maybe she's adopted.  I said, well no, I am adopted.  He thought I was joking, and I confirmed, that yes I am.  Mom was standing in the shade, it was a very hot day, and they realized that sister looks like mom,  and they started asking more questions.  I felt very uncomfortable talking about who I am, as though it was wrong to tell them my ethnicity.  I whispered to them quickly, not wanting to upset my mom, not that she would be mad, it just seems to come up when people we've met see my sister and I together.  Its obvious, especially when they see mom and dad.  Most of the nurses with hospice who come to help dad mention that I don't look like either parent.  Its not that its wrong, or that its bad, it just uncomfortable for others!  haha!

Until this world gets on track, and starts admitting that its got a BIG problem, there is no reason for me to continue to beat myself up, and end up looking like the disturbed woman, the adoptee that most people do not understand.

I don't need this mother

Lesson learned.  Cannot trust those that are not blood related, except my own husband.

My help, my opinion, not needed nor are they interested in knowing it.

I am not trustworthy, they feel.  I cannot be responsible for anything important, except for parent sitting when said relative decides to take our mother and her sister  to a play.   I then, can be responsible for 10 hours, and oh, don't forget that dinner I was reminded to plan in advance so when they arrive back from the play, they can eat!  Because this relative of mine stated she has to work the next day, so she does not want to be at our parents house all night long!  Oh, excuse me.  Oh, and don't forget to get the ingredients for whatever your cooking, although our aunt had mentioned she loves pizza, and maybe a salad, because you won't be able to leave dad alone while we are gone!   I guess I'm also an idiot, and have not raised 3 children, and somehow have forgotten how to cook...even though I am the one who usually does most of the cooking and baking at all our holidays over the years.    Maybe they should just kick me in the rump and slap me in the face too.   Gets better, I was also told to watch dad while my sister and mom took my aunt to the airport.

So this is how its going to be from this point forward.  I will not go back to moms house unless I am asked, very nicely.  I will never be anyone's maid, cook, or be used again.

The past year I have scrubbed pee off carpets, scrubbed floors, changed beds, cleaned house, laundry, windowsills all in the name of helping mom whiled dad  is dying.  Now, I see that my help, even though it was accepted, was not wanted.  Wow, do I feel like a fool.  I guess when I volunteered to put eye drops in my dads eyes and my mom would not trust me to do this, I should have gotten a clue!

My relatives forgot to let me know that a supposed important person in my life, my own mother, was going back to the cardiologist yesterday.   Mind you I took her to countless doctor appointments in prior months, kept my lovely sister in the loop every step of the way.   And my own mother is going in for an ultrasound on Monday for her carotid arteries, something that slipped their minds.  As usual, I get a call many hours later from my mother, she left a message, once she realized that I somehow was forgotten in her plans.  Oh, gee, I was not needed to baby sit my dad, or schlep her to the doctors, so I guess that is why I was forgotten.   If I had not asked my sister about something, I never would have known.   I am their last thought, and to be honest, I am sick of this.  I cannot and will not do this again to myself.

This same thing happened when my mom went in for the actual procedure a few months ago, I had spent days at her house, each week, taking her to tests, appointments, etc, and when it came time, my sister arrived,  and told me I was baby sitting my dad and she was taking mom.  The next day after moms procedure, they both got up, got dressed, said nothing to me and off they went, for 3 hours and left me with my dad.

What other conclusion can I come to?  Im important enough when I am taking care of dad all day and night and cook them dinner, so they can go see a play, but when my services are not needed, I am kicked to the curb, my feelings not important,  keeping me informed, not important to them.  I am the last person they think of.  Im just free maid service.  

Sad, heck yeah.  But as my dear husband said yesterday after work, "I don't mean to make you feel bad or mad, but you don't need a mother" - that really hit me between the eyes.  He is right, I do not need this mother, because she is not my mother.  She is a woman, that took someone else's baby, and does not have the same feelings for this baby as she does her own.  Nothing can be done about it, its not my fault, its just is.

Adoption continues to take

I hope by blogging I can explain what I'm feeling.  I am not even sure how to get these thoughts on paper or what words I will use to communicate my feelings.

Why is it that as an adoptee so many in the triad feel they can take things from me, or try to take from me, crack stupid jokes about adoption, and always belittle how I feel.  But there is this specific dynamic within  birth families that still remains a mystery to me.  I don't know where it comes from, but it does exist.  To date, my birth mom has deceived me, betrayed me, lied to me countless times, has chosen to have no relationship with my children, the list goes on, and NOT ONCE has she ever apologized, said she is sorry, or wrong.

My birth mom has always kept me at a distance.   I'm usually the one to track her down, for the most part. 

Why does she continue to act like she can say and do whatever she wants without any consequences to how I feel?  Apparently she feels there are no boundaries for her.  Same goes for my brother, her son.  He has always felt that he has the right to try and convince my children that my husband and I are bad parents, they have both talked bad about us.  They both paint this picture to the rest of the world, they are the best people, the best grandma and uncle to my children, and WE are the problem.   The frightening part is that she and my birth brother are believable, charming, convincing AND they believe their lies!   I have not trusted either of them for many years.

My brother over the years has continued to bully me, my kids and my husband.  Yet now, today, he claims my husbands brother as HIS family.  This is why I get upset when I see this is going on.  I am so sick of them bullying me, and the fact they feel they have the right to take anything they want from me, even things that are clearly not theirs.  My brother states on the internet to the old time skaters and surfers that knew my brother in law, that he was his uncle.  I blogged about this the other day.  How is it that you cannot stand ME, can't even talk to me, and have threatened to kill my entire family (which you later lied about doing & called my children liars) YET you are now, claiming MY HUSBANDS family as your own?  Pretending to be the nephew of my husbands brother?    You hate me, yet you manipulate my kids over the years, almost like a pedophile, luring children into their house.  My brother has always liked young girls, when my daughter was in middle school he started talking to girls on line, that were in her 7th grade class.  At the time he was about 28 years old, pretending to be MY KIDS COUSIN.  Sound familiar?  He had been talking to this little girl who ended up committing suicide.  He knew about it before it hit the newspaper, before we even knew about it.  HERES THE SICK PART...my birth mom and brother both lie about it now, make it seem like I have made this up, and I am the crazy one.  I have nothing better to do but sit around and make up stuff!   It did happen, my adult kids can attest to this.  My oldest has received several threats from my brother left on his cell phone, death threats.   According to my birth mom & brother, we are all the crazy ones, living lies, and none of this ever happened!

Its hard to explain in words, I don't even know why this has happened over the years.  The lies, the manipulation, the deceit.  WHY?  What do they want?  Sometimes it feels like they want to annihilate me, step in and take over my life.  Everything they have done, and trust me its not been a cake walk, they have lied about, stated that "Cathy is mentally ill"  --  I guess all 5 of us are crazy!  My daughter and youngest son will never even acknowledge them.  My oldest son has more memories of them, but he was really little and his judgment is not that great.  Now, he has realized that maybe Kelly my brother is not the greatest guy that walked earth.  Honestly, Kelly my brother is not a person you can even have small talk with, he's dangerous, cruel, manipulating, mentally ill, has brain damage from drugs, and hates all of us.  Not a good combination, its somewhat lethal.

So you ask, why would I talk to these people?  I always have hope, hope that they will change, make different life choices.   Well, I have not talked to my brother in many years.  I've had nothing to do with him.  I recently spoke via text with my birth mom, and of course she continues to lie about my brother.  She always paints a picture of this man (age 40 now) who is living this sedentary, normal life.  So I see all of his Instagram pictures, which just about made me sick.  I see his girlfriends pages and her pictures, which made me even more sick inside.  My birth mom slips and says the girlfriend is mentally ill as well.  Gee, doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out WHY a girl age 21 would be dating a man older than her parents.  My brother lives a wild and crazy life.  He's drinking, acting and dressing like he's a young kid, and I am sure this is taking its toll on him.  He looks awful, and these pictures prove that my birth mom is living in la-la land, lying to me about what he's doing and how he is doing.  If his Type 1 diabetes is out of control, its his choices that are making that happen.  This young girl that looks like a hooker/stripper, and their vulgar pictures and talk would make anyone feel sick.  I am ashamed to even admit this man is my brother, and why I have decided that I can no longer call him that.  This same behavior has been going on since he was much younger and to be honest, I'm exhausted.  I don't deserve this, and I have chosen not to be part of their lives and I supposed I have to give up hope they will ever get it together and live somewhat decent lives.

I realize my birth mom has betrayed me in the past, and it seems she is not capable of being truthful.  Which brings me full circle.  I feel she is always manipulating me, and lying and there is no logical reason why?   What does she want from me?  Why does she contact me when I really do believe she does not like me?

Adoptee's are the pit everyone dumps into.  Adoptee's micromanage the families, taking abuse at times,  forget an apology, or any sort of feelings that would show they have remorse.  Its because we don't have the spot in any family, really.  We were taken from our birth family, never to really connect and bond with any of them, and the adoptive family we were stuck in are not always a match, loss of fertility issues, a father not wanting a child that is not his blood.  We have to make our own family, however we choose to do this.

When someone comes into my family, like my brother and tries to take what I have made, for myself, and have worked so hard to attain, I pretty much go into battle mode.  Who does he think he is?  How and why does he feel he has the right to pretend to be my husbands nephew?  Pretend to be the cousin of MY children.   How does he have the gumption to say he is anything to me except being born of the same two people?   He has not done any work to say he is my chidrens uncle, he does not even deserve the label of acquaintance.  To me he is dirt, he has no class, he is a scum sucking bottom dweller.  And my birth mom is similar, lying for him, even though he is age 40, pretending he is the better child of the two, when in reality she is probably thinking wow, I gave away the better of the two children I had!

I am so angry they both still feel they have "Rights" to me and my family.  I cannot stand the fact that my brother has posted pictures of MY family on line, all over the place, claiming to be MY husbands brother, who passed away years ago.  Preying upon people, lying, manipulating.  Its like he still THINKS he has the right to dump on me!

Don't tell me I'm too emotional

I have to pull up my skirt, I have to stop this craziness.   My mom needs me to help her right now, and I have to step up and move into her house and be there for her, until my dad dies.

Can I do this?  Can I ?  Can I help her without feeling like I want to go running through the streets pulling my hair out?

I texted my sister, she is on a trip with her daughter.  As though this trip is so important, she tells me she cannot talk to me about (mom) she is "Trying to have fun."   Oh, wow, sorry.

Remind you, I have rheumatoid arthritis, I have zero pain relief and I somehow find the strength to spend countless days at moms.   She, on the other hand feels that when she is on a trip, a trip that has very little meaning , that she is not to be bothered by things like our mom not making sense, and firing my dads caretaker. (dad is at home in hospice)

This is where my feelings of being that dirty, unwanted kid come in.  My feelings, my opinion and concern for our parents is not of worth to her.   She gets to decide what happens to [her] parents.  Shut up Cathy, we don't want to hear your ideas, your worries, your concerns.  That is what she is saying when she tells me she cannot talk about this [now] because she is trying to have fun!  When she shuts me up and says that what I have experienced is not real, it did not happen!  This is why I have resorted to video taping things that happen at our parents house.

Sorry, but this is pure insanity in my opinion.  Your trying to have fun?  Give me a #&$(% break.

Yeah, I know this could happen in any family.  But this is not any family.

The question still remains, do I continue to push my way into this?  Do I help my mom & dad?  Or should I back off and allow my sister, their birth child to make all the decisions?  It seems I am looked at as being too emotional.  Even though my mom cannot remember what was discussed just 5 minutes ago, I guess I am over reacting. She is living alone, with my dad who is dying.  She has fired now her 2nd caretaker for my dad, who is blind, cannot do anything for himself, and mom is a train wreck.  She can barely take care of herself, and her health is not good.  She is not making wise choices, and telling me she does not have the money for a caretaker.  She does have the money!  Got so mean she basically hung up on me, and let me tell you her sister called me worried as well.  Saying that she was not making sense.

I think my sister wants to be in the drivers seat.  She wants to make the decisions, my opinion and feelings do not matter.   On the outside, everyone thinks that adoption is no big deal.  I am so lucky to have been adopted by this wonderful family.  Nobody really wanted you, so your lucky.  It amazes me at age 50, that I am still having this conversation.  That I feel like I'm still second guessing my position.  Are these really my parents?  Should I be able to step in and make decisions on my own regarding their well being?  The answer my friends, is NO.  My opinion, my feelings mean nothing.  I really am that unwanted, unloved kid found in the shopping cart, or found on the side of the road, left because I am too stupid, or not cute enough, or not clever enough to have any sense, not enough worth to make a reliable decision.

If adoption did not make a difference, if being the adopted daughter was not an issue,  why is this happening?  My sister would not be talking to me this way, and arguing about what our mother is doing.  Refusing to admit that our mother is not mentally well and needing a dementia screening.

I have not decided how to handle this, but maybe I will have to just push these awful feelings aside and do the right thing, and live with my parents and take care of them.  I really need to do this, to prove to myself that I can, that I CAN love unconditionally.    I should be able to do this, I could do it for a stranger, I can do it for my parents.  Regardless if they love me and adore me or not.