Raising a child while neglecting to actually Mother said child: Unmothering. Growing up, the moments of my adoptive mother acting like a Mother were scant. Mother and Mommy are similar but different; truthfully, I'm not recalling anything outstanding for the Mommy category, either. There were moments she acted like a Mother. Dependable, positive, pleasant and … Continue reading Unmothered Mother & Child
October 1963, born. Immediately admitted into hospital; stay for three months until I am well enough to be relinquished.January 15, 1964, relinquished.January 1964, relocated to address Upper East Side, possible foster home.March 1964, admitted back into hospital.May 1964, out of hospital. Relocated to foster home in New Hyde Park, Long Island, N. Y.November 1964, adopted.February 1985, move into … Continue reading Some of the Pieces: A timeline.
New Dorp, Staten Island. 1986. My first apartment, the entire second floor of a small two-family house. Bedroom with alcove closet, full bath, large kitchen/dining area, sunny living room with small private terrace overlooking the neighborhood. At $450 a month, it was a gem. I felt safe if a tad remote. The commute was cool: Walk … Continue reading Wading.
These are the things she told me from a very early age. They are, in no particular order, the foundations of how, when and why I arrived. (You'll note I was never born in any of these well-meaning bon mots.) Whether true at the time they were shared matters not; it's what was told to … Continue reading Opening Lines.
The last couple weeks, on the way to and from work, I've been soaking up a lot of Adoptees On podcasts; and, while I am a writer, the one topic I have neatly avoided is my adoption/search/reunion and that I decided reunion wasn't what I thought. Or, rather, I wasn't sure what reunion was supposed … Continue reading The part where she begins to write about being adopted.
Gimme... Yeah,...I want... Umgonnahaf... Lemmeget... . Tell you what I want. Are ya' listenin'?? Not a single please nor thank you. Not. One. And her daughter-in-puffy-jacket walked directly in front of me several times while carting coffee mugs to and fro, deciding a teacher gift. Not once did that 11- or 13-year-old child make eye … Continue reading Christmas Coffee in Syosset, Lawn Guyland 2015