#deadmother

[sircharlesthepoet]

Carry On

Mama, Help.Please. Get up. I need you.I can’t do it anymore. Mama, Come back to life.I’m trapped in living’s strife. Where are you? I want to get to knowYour eyes. Mama, It’s not fair Why do you get to move on?But I’m stuck, here, failing to stay strong? – If this piece impacted you in any ways, please consider reading more of my work here. Click to support my art on Ko-fi! Click to see…

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[wildcritterfarms]

It’s been awhile....

I haven’t posted in awhile.  I’ve been busy.  My mom passed away on April 19, 2017.  I went  months without touching my camera and years without being able to turn my phone off.  The phrase I created to describe the entire, god-awful experience was, “It was harder to watch my father mourn than it was to watch my mother die.”  It’s been over a month since her passing and we are all healing and moving forward.  I’ve returned to the garden, to taking pictures, and to loving the family I have.  I didn’t have a fabulous relationship with my mother, she wasn’t exactly the loving/affectionate type.  But my father loved her and I love my father.  The past few years I have been “on call”  24/7.  If he needed me he’d call.  If he needed me I’d go.  I’ve missed my children’s sporting events, work, sleep....  On April 21, 2017 I turned my phone off.  No bitterness or sadness - just relief.  It was time.  We all did everything we could to keep her happy and comfortable ‘till she took her last breath.  The rest of us are still breathing and we need to make that same effort to keep ourselves happy and and comfortable while we can.   Life goes on - but it goes quickly, so live now while you can.  

[saramackenzie1982]

You have to leave it to the character of Nora. Her sense of justice is balanced. She honors the dead who've helped her. But she is still learning tact. Get yourself wrapped in the scales. Most of the time, people want them balanced. How you see it fair is another story. 😉 #BalancedScales #JusticeIsServed #JudgeAndJury #Orphaned #DeadMother #AMothersLove #TheQueensGambit #OnTheChessboard #PlayOrDie #WatchYourPieces #ChessPlayer #ChessAndCoffee #CoffeeCurrentlyReading #AroundTheWorld #DiscoveringYou #Wrapped #InTheRays #OfTheSun #Klenard #LocalAuthor #NewBritain https://www.instagram.com/p/ChHquwPu8AD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[freesthers]

My #mother has got a new #ivyarum for her trunk. #death #deadmother #mothertree #trunk #tree #trees #epipremnumaureum #potplants #lasthonor #emotions #family #forest #papiermache #pappmache #papercrafts #papermachesculpture #papermache #sculptures #mask #artfromvienna #austrianartist #baum #wald #nature #mutter (hier: Vienna, Austria) https://www.instagram.com/p/CBY5O7dn7SF/?igshid=1va9hqwvmgxkd

[redersrepublic]

A Mother’s Life #bookchallenge - Day 6 - #deadmother • • “Jack Spintecătorul. Crimele din Whitechapel” de Kerri Maniscalco este un roman în care protagoniștii deși sunt orfani, au avut grijă să nu-și uite niciodată mamele. • @ledaedge a publicat acest roman în țara noastră și nu o dată mi-a amintit de pasiunea mea pentru mistere. Voi l-ați citit? • • #elitemothersbooks #motherinbooks #romanianbook #jackspintecatorul #crimeledinwhitechapel #jacktheripper #kerrimaniscalco #reader #bookworm #bookaholic #booktag #bestoftheday #photooftheday #lovetoread (at Bucharest, Romania) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu3KgVaH09U/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1jwyf1bt05ar0

[kaekiklasv]

shaking hands steady as a rock

Grief whispers 

it is the feet of your brother, glued to the brakes of his car

door open, widows unwound; her grave 20 feet away

he says his bones ache and he should not move 

it is your brother clutching 

exam results, the zero zero boy 

saying he’s a disappointment

when he asks you why it was not him dead in her place

what do you say

what can you say 

its her voice in the middle of the night

asking you why you didn’t see

instances when she said

her back ached, chest froze, pain that came and 

went as fast as 

you should have dragged her to the hospital 

how could you not know it was important

grief is dirty cups on cluttered tables, trash

piling up, cockroaches under the bed

a town that pulls at you 

her warmth in every corner you see

the cold in its place 

I thought I was grown

I didn’t know how hard it would be without you. 

[kaekiklasv]

2017

the shower is not as scalding as- my nails are too blunt for- 

I wake up. The bed is too soft. Perilous, uncut; youth

so 

     very 

             very young. 

You’re not here! Your family is here. I am- 

temper soft. This grief, familiar and yet- unconscionably new. 

lets go back to those days I couldn’t remember my name. Passed from skin to skin, holy communion of smoke and heartbreak. So exquisite it could shred- 

a cascade of bad decisions. 4 am pressed against the chain linked fence; warm rooms, wet clothes: your wrists are bruised and he’s- 

and then-

11pm; a new set of hands slipping through the next knock on the door. Incandescent light, tears crusted on your cheek- another strange face, a soft voice you don’t expect 

you don’t pick up your phone. 

he shows up anyways.

you are in an unfamiliar car, coasting on a roundabout. You don’t know his name, but you crawl into his sheets. You don’t know his name, but you think maybe you could, maybe this time you-

You do, and he is quiet and angry and your hands know the back of his neck as well as you know the fault lines of your body. 

Him become they-they becomes home. But first- you stop running away- tail tucked behind your legs. He’s waiting for you under the streetlights. 

Takes you back, bathes the salt wounds, receives the leftover bones and feeds you whole. Keeps his door open, his hands as soft on your throat as the beat of his breath.

Humid air, dinner on the table. Clouds of condensation pooling between your heads. Conversations you don’t pay attention to. Washing dishes- towelling your hair- then laughter. 

But then- between the pauses- those dark nights the threads of your mind slip through your fingers. That one night, deathly afraid- his name flashing on your screens- Sobbing, clumsy, wet. Silence like a sticky floor. Oily, Tacky, something to ignore. 

They hold each hand, tether your broken heart. Warm hands in yours. Hands in your hair, hands holding you to sleep. Steady. Walking between the streets to houses lit in the dark.

Lights on, doors slam open-shut. 

You came back. I always come back.

I always- 

I’m sorry I didn’t come back in time- I’m sorry you’re not here. I’m sorry I wasn’t- I couldn’t be- I was never good enough-  I didn’t have enough time to be 

I’m sorry 

Your grave is quiet and the concrete is unforgiving. I miss you. 

Please come back. 

[nadacreationofchaos]

Anyone missing a younger sister since 1966/67?

I Was Adopted And Thought I Found My Birth Mother

I got a call the other day from my birth mom. The DNA was wrong she stated. The director of VS told her "although I can not release any identifying info to you, I'm looking at your birth records and I can assure you without a doubt, this is not your daughter. So be it. I don't look a thing like this woman or her family but I'm used to that. It's just bad that we wasted all this time believing yet another lie. My search continues without a name to go on. My records are sealed and if my non id info is bogus than it is likely no one knows what to look for even if they were looking for me. I've never met anyone like me which is strange seeing as I was supposedly adopted in the same city I was born in. Supposedly (according to nonidinfo from the state) I'm in search of four older siblings. I was adopted through Onondaga county social services. (I remember an airport though) My adopted father told me social workers do that to throw off anyone like foster parents who may follow them trying to find where their baby is going. My birth mother was 36 at the time of my birth with 4 kids prior to me. She died of septicemia caused by strep origin unknown. She had a healthy full term uneventful pregnancy. (Yet died of blood poisoning from giving birth to me) Hell of a sadistic story to make up if it's made up. No siblings seem to know of me yet they are older. Perhaps I was already gone. Or they were in the system. Otherwise if I remember my adoption at 2 (and I do) they should at their older ages remember me. My birth date could be fabricated. Or town or state etc. My adopted parents were curious so they said and acted. I always suspected that I was related to my adopted Dad. I look a little like his family. Going through my mother's belongings though, maybe I'm related to her. They are both from PA and moved to Syracuse right before my adoption. Although I grew up knowing just my parents and my aunt and uncle on mother's side, When I was small some of their families still wrote to them on occasion. One letter showed a lot of interest in me. Stating "I think of susie often" could just be a great aunt through adoption. Could be a mother of an unwed mother (mine) too. Nothing's impossible. Or possible it seems. I'm redoing my search and this is part of it. But I refuse to get lost online searching like I did before. I spent many hours after work at home and outside of home going through registries and posts. Thousands of entries of people not sure who they were looking for. Not sure of who they were. I have no name to go on not even for myself. It makes it hard. I tried looking up females who died in Upstate NY of septicemia in 1967. Nothing. I guessed at her year of birth and found one grave that said 1930-1967. One. Maybe I could contact her family and say "hey, are you missing a little sister?" I was either adopted twice or in foster care for awhile. No records. I have a few memories. Maybe I was a test subject for the government and was non-compliant with there project deeming me non-programmable lol More exciting than reality I suppose. My birth mom is dead and my siblings don't remember me. The woman I thought was my birth mom is convinced she is not now. We "reunited" in 2000. We separated in 2014. 14 more years lost in our search. My adopted parents and aunt and uncle are dead. I do look at people to see if anyone looks like me at all in any way shape or form. Just one of those things. I'm entering a new DNA test into a sibling registry soon. Life is an adventure.