Morgue

It is an image that is painted so brightly in my memory it screams at me. I'll never forget the day that my mother died, but the image of her lying there on that metal table at the morgue is something that will haunt me forever. She died when I was 11 years old and the wound has never healed, I feel like a string with frayed end. When she passed away I didn't fully understand the impact it would have on my life, it's amazing how sheltered we are from death until it comes knocking at your door. My father asked me if I wanted to go to the morgue to dress my mother in her burial clothes, of course I agreed. I remember the light slowly fading as we walked back to the room that they prepared the bodies. You walked into the morgue and there were windows everywhere and as you continued there was a chapel off to the left with windows. Than we entered the room where they displayed all the coffins that they had for sale, than there was one last hallway and two white double swing doors. As I walked through the doors holding my fathers hand I immediately went into shock when I realized that was my mother lying there on the table. I was horrified, the only thing I could do was cling onto my father and cry uncontrollably. In that moment I fully understood death and how brutal and unforgiving it can be. The only thing I wanted to do was get out of that room, I convinced myself while we were there it wasn't my mother. She didn't look how I had seen her last, and while she laid there in the morgue is definitely not how I wanted to remember her.  

Baby of An Addict

How can you love someone that you had no connection with in the first place?
My biological mother was a crack addict and prostitute. The whole time she was pregnant with me she was getting high and doing god knows what else. When I was born she was high on crack and left me at the hospital. I was in foster care for two months and than was adopted by the amazing family I have today. 20 years later I decided to pursue my biological mother. At the time I decided to find her, I didn't really know what would happen if I did find her, I just wanted to know if she was alive or not. I ended up finding her on Google! When I did find her number and address I didn't even call her for another three months. When we first started talking everything was so surreal, I believed every word that came out of her mouth. Than I slowly began to realize that it wasn't what I wanted. My adoptive mom, whom I consider my real and only Mother, passed away from cancer when I was 11. By no means at all was I trying to replace her, but I was curious about my birth mother. I think what awoke my curiosity was the fact that she just left me there. How can people just leave their own flesh and blood? It didn't matter to me how many times she said she was sorry or when she said she loved me. How can you love someone you didn't care about in the first place? She said I freed her from her guilt of giving me up all those years ago. I hold nothing against her at all, I thank god that she left me there because my life would've been hell.  She doesn't seem to be able to grasp the idea that I will never see her as a parent or someone I hold close to my heart. Am I wrong for not having any feelings for her? I don't see her even as a person I see her as an object. I know that may sound sick and twisted but I just don't have compassion towards her at all. Our so called relationship, if you can even call it that, ended quickly. She was very manipulative and possessive, she saw me as a little girl. I am grown now with my own family and my own set of values. She doesn't care about my life now, she wanted me to create a life without the family I have now. This whole experience has taught me to be so very thankful for the family I have now. Everyone at some point in their life takes something they have for granted. I've learned to be thankful and cherish everything. Every once in awhile she'll try and creep back into my life, I regret the day I met her. I honestly do. I'll be damned though if she gets a hold on me.

Passion for Writing

I love to write!

I am trying to get back into writing again. The passion for writing has never left me, it will never leave me. Writing is like the blood running through my veins, it just flows naturally.

I am married and we have one beautiful, wild two year old boy. No two days are the same at our house! My husband and I both work outside of the home, and go to school full time. "Is it difficult?" Is a regular question we get when we tell people what we do. At times yes it is, but at the same time we are working towards something better.

I will be writing everyday! I hope you enjoy reading my upcoming post! Much Love and Take Care!


-MadHatterMaMa