I don't wan't the One's I got
I have two mothers, they are both sisters. Barbara handed me to Margaret when I was only a day old, then she drove back to Carolina where she could stay my Aunt. I was raised in Texas, the youngest of four, the one to pity, the soon to be spoiled one. Dark hair and eyes, covered in freckles, the family secret. Funny that I was the only one who the secret was kept from.
As usual, even after many years the secret surfaced. Anger, questions, midunderstandings, have woven their way in and out my life, regarding my adoption and still on quiet nights I lay awake and try and muddle through it all.
Two Mom's are better than one- REally? REally? One can't even call to wish me happy birthday. All she knows how to do is send me email forwards. The other one wants to convert me to her folk religion. One has 6 other kids but doesn't really care for any of them, except for one, and that aint me. The other is so up tight, she doesn't know the meaning of passion.
So, I have two mothers, both sisters, two women in my life who I soo want to connect with, who I long to be close to and for reason they won't let me.