Hi Everyone

Well today is the day before my son’s birthday.  So many years ago I was contemplating my motives and listening to my heart. Not knowing the next day would be labor and he would come into the world.  That he was healthy was all that mattered to me.  I took good care of myself while pregnant.  Lots of woman had children, I would be OK.  Never knew how sadness could destroy a soul,  hell I was young,  so very young.  This is a photo of me 2 years before. My High School Year Book photo with  wet hair and clothes as it poured when me and Mom were walking in Lowell,   a rain cloud opened up no big deal I didn’t want a photo or to be in the book.

 

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Grandma had given me the pretty silver spoon.  It was a pin meant to be worn and I adored her,  so I did.  Who knew in the 80′s things such as this were used for drugs.  In fact since I was never into drugs,  cocaine never entered my thoughts as I gave my copy of this photo to Mike.  He saw the spoon and guess it took on a different meaning never knowing who I was or for that matter who I really am now.  Do not know how he was raised but they were older than me so maybe they were wild in the 60′s  I still pray they were not.

So this is a story on us the we that never was to be.    I do not know anything really about Mike except he grew up not to far from me.  He could have been a wild child.  I was so young I never thought they would tell him he was not theirs.  Why would they he was 3 days old.  Then for him to turn 18 and get angry I was not at the door asking for him.  See heartache was not mine and mine alone.  I know I would never take the life of a child through abortion unless it could not live but I am here to say that must be a hard decision to make,  same as the one I did.  I wanted him to have two loving parents and I trusted this older woman at the adoption agency to only allow good people to come through that door and fill out applications swearing they would be.  I chose the couple from a book full of smiling faces who all said they wanted a baby of their own.  Well I hand-picked his,  if she told me the truth.  I have grown a lot since then and know too much.  I know one thing for certain they paid a lot to get a blonde haired blue-eyed,  white male baby in 1977,  that was healthy and weighed  8  lbs  9 oz.  I doubt he ever went a day in his life without being given every opportunity possible for a young man. Life was good!  I made that life he had possible.  With God watching over me all these years I know I did right by him , they were not me but they had to love him.  Then they had a child of their own,  a daughter not sure how that came to be I really don’t care I am just glad he was not an only child,  he had a little sister.  Sure the dynamics of his life must have changed for him , he was only 2 or 3 but he had a family.

 

Now to the part where we meet by phone.  I emailed the agency and asked if they knew if he was OK,  I had just lost my Dad and had the need to know.  She called right back when I hit send, asking me “Where have you been your son has been looking for you?”  First thought was WHY?  Come on he was 32 years old.  They had my parents contact information all those years and never a word.  Maybe the time was not right.  Maybe he never cared to know who I was or who his birth family was.  Remember he had EVERYTHING.   So I take down the information she said he left for me and I hang up the phone.  She gave me his and his parents information so I wrote to them.  I asked if he was OK and if they were OK with him wanting me to call or write him.  They never bothered to write to me so of course I had the story worked out in my head already,  I knew all the answers. Funny how we can do that.  Next thing I did was make the call to the numbers he left and just said “Hi it’s Eunice I got a message from agency to call you.”  Pretty short and sweet   Scared to death all he wanted to do was scream at me for giving him to them.  When he did not call back that day yes I was expecting he would,  he is the one who said if she shows up please have her contact me, so I sat and wrote a letter , really too long and gut wrenching with too much family information included for him  as I now look back on it.  I figured if he had changed his mind about wanting to speak to me at least he would know who I was and who his uncles and grandparents were.  Medical stuff too.  I have spent many days since then wishing I had never called the agency.  No one needs to visit deep pain over and over it doesn’t do any good and for me it has been horrible.  Had they just said he had a wonderful life and I should be so proud,  it would have been so much better.

 

So finally Mike, that is what they named him, called me.  He was happy from doing some wild things while on skis out on his mountain range.  He said he had been scared to call me.  WHY?  This has been my question since learning about him from agency.  Remember he is 32 always knew or from age 2 or 3 that he was adopted so why now at 32 was he still so worried about ME?

We talked for hours and hours and learned what anyone could through a phone.   That was in March of 2008.   Then in May that year for Mother’s Day he sent me a beautiful email with photos of him and his dog.  Then a few more calls,  then nothing.  So he was all set but I wasn’t.

I finally was hurt enough to leave a message or email can’t really remember now saying when he grew up to come see me.  Get the answers face to face.  See who I really was.

He showed up that October days before Halloween and we spent the afternoon together at the beach him and I and the two dogs while Ron detected and gave me my space.  We had a lunch together,  seafood like this is not really the same out west.

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I told him to go back to his family in Maine they would be worried sick about him,  he didn’t want to leave but my heart was hurting and I just wanted to go home.  We hugged each other goodbye. We have not spoken since.  Emails yes but no calls.  His parents went off the deep end when he got back to their summer home on the island.  It destroyed him and his joy that day.  So he shuts me off to not hurt them.

That following Feb. 19th a woman calls me asking how to get to my home she has a delivery for me I laughed and told her not me I didn’t order anything.  She assured me I would welcome her.  She arrived and she was the driver for a florist.  She delivered a bouquet of long stem Red Roses in a tall Red glass vase with a beautiful card from Mike thanking me for having him.   I sent an email thanking him.

Years passed by and still no calls .  Only word from him was an occasional  email. Maybe I am just not the make believe Mother he had made up in his head too bad as actually I am so much better than an imaginary one.

 

Then he joined Facebook and I could see his artwork that he did with spray paint.  He is very talented.  Hard on himself yes.  All artists are deep and troubled aren’t they .

 

Here is something he sent me, made by him just two Christmases ago or was it three.

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I love the artwork he shares  where he lives,  as well as opening up finally on his  own  Artist Facebook page.  I know it is not easy for him to share.

He doesn’t understand when I say I want no more art for my home.  I can’t take anymore pain from loss.  I know I was a strong trucker for so many years but with wreck  I had in 2000 and all that has taken place since I am just happy to be alive and know he is as well.

So tomorrow it is his birthday and I will not wish him a happy birthday as it is their day.  He is theirs.  So yes it has always been a horrible day for me to get through and usually I walk the local beach as I did so long ago, well 36 years ago.  Happy Birthday to Mike.  I do wish him the very best.

So now you know the story and why I will welcome the retreat he went to and wants the love for me.  Hell I want the LOVE FOR ME it has been too long!

Sorry for such a heavy post but every action has a reaction doesn’t it.

Love you all.
Thanks for all the support you always show me.

 

 

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