Friday, February 26, 2010
I'll never be able to write,
though everything I write
is a poem to my mother.
I've been trying to write this post for about a week - trying to figure out what to write, what words to use, what photos to use.
Tomorrow would have been my birth mother's 53rd birthday. She died on April 14, 2007. Even though I was adopted, from the moment I found her, it's like we started up right where we left off back in 1979.
Our bond was unbreakable. I was her firstborn daughter, the one she had to give away, the one she was hoping would find her.
And I did.
And I loved her unconditionally. I still do. I will never stop loving her.
She was the only one I could talk to about ANYTHING and not have backlash or be judged. We were truly honest with each other. I miss her so much.
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts. ~Washington Irving
Above is a photo of my mom when she was a teenager. I looked so much like her when I was a teen, it's uncanny. Too bad I don't have any photos to share here.
Here's my favorite photo of her:
There's not many photos of her floating around... I have to cherish what I have.
In Loving Memory
Carol Susan James 2-27-57 to 4-14-07