A Tale Of Two Mothers

 

This is a hard one to write. A bit of a challenge to contain but probably should be said in 500 words. However, this is a unique opportunity for me to write about a mother I never knew that somehow now, I feel like did know in the bizarre almost surreal kind of way. But I am one of the lucky ones. I have two moms. Two mom's who would would sacrifice everything for me I know this because they basically did I cannot believe this last year at finding my birth mother. I thought, really thought that would never happen. But, I did find my birth mother and most of my birth family! Which I thought was beyond all odds.

I think a piece of information that was withheld for me in my life was that my mother Maurine had to have known my birth mother Dubi since Dubi was living with my grandmother and grandfather until I was born. Not only did my mother no Dubi but I'm sure my my aunt Elaine as well. Yet, they never shared this information with me except for a few lines in one of my mothers are grandmothers journals with a talk of Dubi just in passing. Those two new a lot more than they let on. I don't know what difference it would've made and I certainly don't fault them for withholding this information. It's not like I would have gone searching. In fact I'm quite surprised that I'm finding that I am having some basic feelings toward my birth mother Dubi. The more I studied her image especially in preparation for this posting. I'm seeing things in her face that somehow relate to me or I to it. It's almost like I can understand the way she's holding her face in the minimal smile she's exhibiting.

My adoptive mom, who basically I still claim is my real mother “real” being relative (excuse the pun). Maurine worried over me with my many temperatures as a child, almost severed leg on Thanksgiving 1956, and perhaps most notably suffer through my broken neck and rehabilitation and on top of that dragged me across town to high school that was all on one floor because of my wheelchair. Marine wash my clothes, cooked my meals, shared by most intimate secrets as well as mistakes. She also endured my many marriages. She was always there. She never hid for me the information that I was adopted and she always seemed thankful that I “came” to her either by chance or by spiritual intervention. Either way I have two moms and that's fine with me, I love them both and him forever in their debts, happy Mother's Day…