I went to the store the next day and purchased a sympathy card. I addressed it when I got home and inside the card; I wrote a small letter, explaining who I was. The very next day I mailed it.
I waited each day and each day I received nothing in the mail. Then about a week later I received a phone call. It was Mama. My heart jumped out of my skin. Excitement built up inside of me until I thought I would burst.
The mama who I had not seen for so many years, the mama who truly loved me, the mama I craved to be with once again, had called. Oh how I had waited for so many years for this moment.
I should go back a step or two before continuing on because I bet you are wondering about my step-mother. We got along alright but I never felt that bond that usually is there between a mother and her daughter.
In fact, I remember life with her growing up was pretty quiet,until my baby sister was born. I didn’t realize it then, but when I grew up and went through some adult therapy; I learned that I was a normal, jealous kid.
I didn’t see myself as a normal, jealous kid though. I saw the differences. Mother smiled so big when she was taking care of baby J. I didn’t remember her smiling at me like that. She spoke to everyone about the new baby. The baby taking a bath, her bottle, getting up with her through the night. I never heard mother talking about me to others.
She spent lots of time when she was home from work with her little girl. I never really thought I was ever her little girl. I really didn’t understand what the distinct difference was but I knew there was a difference, a feeling I carried within my heart. A kid, even at ten years old, knows certain things or at least feels from her heart.
When mother called out my name, it was to set the table or to remind me to take my bath or check on brother and see what he was doing or telling me to go outside and ride my bike. I don’t ever remember mother sitting down with me in her spare time. She didn’t read books to me. We didn’t play tea parties together. This was the difference between sister and me. I felt like the out cast and I felt that way as I got older and saw the way mother treated her compared to me.
I did things that once grown-up, I realized I did it for attention. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff a ten-year old, quiet kid like me could think up.
To be continued…