Saturday, July 8, 2017

A Little Truth a Little Lie

I have a question for you. Do you know that your sister lies to you? I mean, she likes to twist words and sit back and watch the drama. It's her thing. You, of all people, know she loves the drama.

I learned recently that she told you I thought you were lying about your illness. That wasn't completely true. What was said, which she heard first hand since she was standing in the kitchen next to me, was:

"I think her stomach issue is her anxiety. If I thought it was serious, I would make her go to the doctor."

I didn't say you were faking it. I just didn't think your illness was anything other than the usual issue you have. You never intimated it was more serious.

Thankfully, your issue wasn't life threatening.

Unfortunately, there could be other issue down the road, but you are not interested in my two cents, so I keep my thoughts to myself.

Every time I think that you and I have made headway, I learn that it's a lie. We haven't made any progress. It's frustrating.

You do not think of us as your parents and certainly not as friends. Where does that put us? I don't know how to fix us.

People ask about you and I lie.

"She's doing great!"

How would I know?

Just another little lie.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

The Slow Learner

There are moments when I feel like we are making progress. Fleeting, whispy seconds when our words are sweet and promise floats between us. It dissipates rather quickly and the familiar stench of distrust returns.

You have been unwell, but didn't want me involved. Another reminder of my place in your life. Always the outsider looking in. Peering through a lock, searching for the entrance to your heart.

Failure is bitter to swallow.

I prayed you would be okay, that the doctors would figure out what was wrong. I prayed you weren't pregnant, that your appendix was healthy, that cancer would never be mentioned. I was relieved to hear that you are going to be fine.

What if your illness had been more serious? Would you have wanted me then?

Stupid, isn't it? My desperate desire to be needed. It's sick really. I'm disgusted with myself, but I am learning.

Learning to stay away, to forget. I'm a slow learner, but you and your sister remind me constantly to let go.

Let go. Just let go.

Thursday, June 15, 2017

The Road Hard Traveled

One thing I want you to know is that we didn't really understand all the ins and outs of adoption. We weren't told that you and your sister would never really like us, much less think of us as family. No one bothered to tell us we were fighting a losing battle.

It's a shame, really. I like to think if I'd known we couldn't win, that we couldn't truly be your 'parents', that maybe we would have looked at our relationship with you differently.

What if we hadn't adopted you, but instead were your guardians until you turned 18? Would it have been different.

What if we had turned a blind eye to your bad behavior and just let you be. What if we'd told you the plan was for you to move out on your 18th birthday and helped you save money from the job you would have worked from 16 years old.

What if...

I think about these things. They ramble around in my head both day and night.

Sometimes, I dream that things were different and in that perfect world you and I are friends.

It's silly, isn't it? My longing to be a part of your life.

Adoption is NOT an easy road. It's a lie. Forever families are a lie too.

And no one told us.

This hard road gives me a headache. It's too long, too bumpy and around every corner is a new scar.

If I could shut off my heart and wipe my brain clean, then maybe thoughts of you wouldn't darken my life any more.

You are my greatest achievement and my largest disappointment. Not because you don't love me, but because my love wasn't enough for you.

The heart is a funny thing. It loves who it loves. You can't shut it off, even after someone throws your heart back at you, it rebounds like a boom-a-rang.

I hate this hard road.

This road doesn't allow for U-turns. There are no exits to Happy Land. The road is just bumps and detours and pot holes. You drive and drive, but never reach your destination.

I hate this hard road. So.Much.

Sunday, April 30, 2017


I sat across from you today. Sunshine streamed down, a breeze caressed your blond hair, your smile soft, unsure.

Your text, the night before, surprised me. You gave me your new number. You didn't have to, but there it was. An invitation to communicate.

A new phone, a new job, a new family. Your boyfriend and his parents take good care of you. New clothes and a sparkly new drivers permit.

There you are, taking care of your own business. Your anxiety controlled. A fact the new growth of your finger tells.

You are better...without me.

I wish I'd been wiser and let you go when you were squirming for your freedom. Would it be different now?

I pray for you. I pray for protection, for wisdom. I pray for our relationship.

I'm so proud of you. I hope that's okay. To be proud in a parent kind of way.

I can't wait to see you again.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Word on the Street

Things aren't going well for you.

We heard you've moved out of your friends house. It didn't end well. The word is, you've moved in with your boyfriend's family. You're spiraling out of control, sick all the time. Your coach said you were a mess....

Oh baby

I wish I could scoop you up and carry you home. Give you a shower and a bowl of ice cream.

I wish I could help you to see other options.

I wish I could heal your brokenness.

I don't know what to do. I've emailed you, but you don't respond. Your sister isn't helpful.

So, day after day, I wonder and pray. I worry about how far you'll have to fall and if you do fall, will you be able to get back up.

I want to remind you that you have healthcare and it's just a call away. I long to tell you that I do love you. I do. Through the yelling and the anger and the frustration, I love you.

There's still time, I know there is. We could come up with a plan, get you back on track, get you to your therapist & your doctor.

The future is still yours and there are so many people who would be willing to help you get there. Don't give up.

Don't ever give up.

Monday, April 3, 2017


I saw you yesterday. We had arranged for you to spend some time with your sister. She needed it more than you.

You were all sassy with your new gauges. You, who look about 12 years old, trying to look bad ass. It's your thing. Whatever.

The only disturbing thing about seeing you was seeing your bruises. Why? Why was your arm covered in bruises shaped like a hand and fingers? Why was there a bruise on your neck. What are you doing?

I didn't ask. Its clearly none of my business, but I can't help but wonder.

Your sister has been strangely quiet. What did you say? The mall was probably a bad idea. Time alone, just the two of you. God, I'm an idiot.

I don't know what to do with you. There is no best place to put you and I. We don't fit. Its a push and a pull. Your sister is in the middle. How do we avoid destroying her, while we try to figure out us?

My friends say, you shouldn't have contact with her. That doesn't seem right and we both know you would sneak around and see her anyway.

What do I do with you?

Thursday, March 16, 2017

The First Game

I saw you tonight. I watched you with hungry mom eyes. Just devouring the sight of you.

You're such a great goalie. Its always fun to watch you, but it was more so this time.

Your sister was so excited to see you. She could hardly contain herself.

I was scared, not sure what to expect, but you smiled so big! You can't know how that smile made me feel. Thank you.

It was just a few minutes, some awkward conversation, both being careful. When I hugged you goodbye, kissed your head and said I love you, you didn't pull away.

You said I love you too.

Its the first time in our relationship that you've said that. I will never forget that moment. Not as long as I live,