- forget me nots -
i think of her each year.
the days leading up to and after my birthday.
and as i grow older,
instead of forgetting
understanding what must have been unimaginable heartbreak
a bit better.
as i experience my own mother heartache
and remember my babies birth stories
and celebrate in the birth of a new family member today
i feel raw for her.
all these years later.
raw and achey and all jumbled up inside.
my birth mother was just a child really.
sixteen and sent to a maternity home in a different province
to spend her last few months of carrying me
in the company of strangers.
shamed. alone. oh so young
taught to knit but not how to grieve.
taught how to repent but not how to forgive herself i bet
facing the thought, the inevitability of childbirth
without any familiar love and support.
my heart breaks for her.
not for me.
i was chosen by a beloved family whom i call my own through and through
but i, as a mother,
know that one does not forget the child they bore.
one does not forget.
time fades. yes. but forget?
and i grieve for a young girl.
alone and vulnerable and scared
asked or told to do what i can't image every having the courage to face.
to give up her child whom she carried so bravely for nine months.
so for this week and next
my thoughts turn to her
and i am grateful.