I’ve not started writing yet and my eyes are filled with tears. Today is NATIONAL DAUGHTER’S DAY and all day I have read the most heartwarming posts from mothers and daughters on facebook. It’s been my practice to pray and ask God to pass messages along to my parents. Don’t laugh – He’s God. Do you really think that’s completely absurd? I don’t – and if the belief that my messages get passed on keeps me happy and healthy and sane, then what’s the harm anyway? Once I’m reunited with them in heaven it won’t matter one way or the other, will it?
There’s only one way I can mark this special day, to write a poem about it. The day I went to live with the Turner family was the beginning of my very blessed life. The older I get, the more blessed I feel for having been their little girl. They did not spoil me, but they just loved me so very much. We spent so much time laughing and singing together. I felt as though I was on vacation every day of my life.
When I was 18 I decided to get a copy of my adoption papers. I was not unhappy with my life, but rather I was curious about things. I had a long talk with my parents before I drove to the courthouse. I wanted to make sure they knew I was not looking to replace them (like I ever could). It was a matter of curiosity and nothing more. Once I got my papers, I began to be even more grateful to God for the life I was given.
I apparently had 9 siblings and my birth parents were not educated. They had given up the last 5 of the 9. My birth mother was well over 40 years old when I was born and I suspect that is why I have a learning disability. My sweet mother was very savvy. She is the one that realized that if I could learn to read music, I could apply the same principles to learning to read words. She should have written a book about it. It’s fascinating how well that theory of hers worked!
I love my parents and I am a devoted daughter – even now. ❤