There was this sentence in my mind.
That I thought was really nice for a story.
It had something special.
It felt so different than the other times that I had a line in my mind that I want to write a story about.
‘Something I should write down, before I forget it’, is what I thought.
For some reason I didn’t do that.
Then the sentence came back and I thought about it again.
‘I should write it down’, is what I thought.
Then I didn’t do it.
A second time.
It stayed as a sentence above my head.
Far above my own mind, even.
It felt warm and kind.
I couldn’t reach it, although I wanted to.
‘If it really wants to be written’, is what I thought.
‘It will come back another time’.
And so I continued with not writing down that sentence.
This morning I thought about it again.
That thought is what I mean.
I believe perhaps a week had passed.
Since that second time I was thinking about that sentence.
It could also have been a little less.
Or a little more.
‘That sentence was such a beautiful line’, is what I thought.
That I thought to write a story about.
It could be a start or just something I could write about in general.
I wanted to let it unfold on its own.
This was also another reason why I didn’t want to write it down.
When it came to my mind, two times.
But the sentence didn’t come back, when I was thinking about it this morning.
Nothing was there, when I was thinking about it.
Again and again.
I was feeling really sad about it.
It drove me a little crazy even.
Because I had the chance two times that I could write it down.
And I didn’t do it.
I know I made a conscious choice about it.
And now it hasn’t come back.
It almost makes me cry.
It sounds so stupid that I am feeling like this about it.
Something I am telling myself.
Although I don’t remember that sentence, I am still writing about it.
I don’t even know the words anymore.
Of that sentence.
Isn’t that beautiful?
I don’t know what the message is of this story, or why it did come up like this.
Perhaps it is for me to learn a lesson.
To focus on the things that matter most.
The things that are important.
That has value and is good for my health and wellbeing.
Whatever that is, I can’t really tell.
At the same time a lot of things are coming up.
Mainly questions, since I don’t know what is important, has value and is good for my health and wellbeing.
And that says something.
We forget things, it gets lost somehow.
We can try to retrieve it, find the reason why that happened and also why we can feel really sad about it.
I am still feeling that a little bit.
Just for you to know.
But the important thing that is coming up is to stay in the present.
I guess that just makes sense.
Thoughts about my mother are showing itself.
She also didn’t come back, that one time.
And I didn’t know why that was.
It is making me happy and sad at the same time.
Happy because I found out why that was.
Sad for the same reason.
I guess these emotions can represent the same thing.
Now I am older I do understand why.
Why she didn’t come back, that one time.
She had to give me up.
When I was in the hospital recovering from what I was experiencing, some people had told her she had to bring me to an orphanage. This is what the doctors told her.
Where I was put up for adoption, later.
About 9 months after that moment I was flown to the Netherlands.
A country unknown to me.
But I didn’t even know what a country was.
I was too young to understand anything about that.
All I know is that I didn’t want to go there.
The Netherlands I mean.
I didn’t want to be separated from my mother.
To me it sounds insane that I have to write that down.
But I have to, for my own sanity.
And it stayed in my mind.
All those years.
That thought of why she didn’t come back.
But I know now, because she was told so.
The same as she was told to not come back looking for me.
Like my mother was a bad person.
Only because I became severely ill.
At least a reason I am given it.
For me to explain this situation.
Because if I think about without a given reason, my mind can’t handle that.
It happens in the best families that people get severly ill and nobody is telling to give that person up for adoption.
However it does happen, in real life.
I am a product from that.
Sounds so insane when I write that down.
I think that is really sad.
To be separated in that kind of way.
I am now 39 years old, when I am writing this down.
The start of that thought was when I was around 4 years ago.
I was brought 2 days after my birthday to the orphanage by my mother.
Why didn’t she come back?
Was that thought.
The same as this sentence.
That didn’t show up anymore.
That I wanted to write a story about, but didn’t know anymore what that sentence was.
But it wasn’t that my mother didn’t come back.
Whatever happened wasn’t her choice, nor her decision in the first place.
Reasons I can’t understand. Still
However it happened.
Due to this event I am thinking about it.
Perhaps you can imagine what kind of impact this had on my life.
On my body, mind and soul.
How heavy this was to carry for my heart?
And that is not a question in particular.
While I am writing this down, it is becoming a bit more still there.
What I’d like to say is that although I was brought to this orphanage by her.
My mother didn’t give me up.
She was told to do so.
I am old enough now to understand this and to write it down.
A lot of things happened after that.
And I had a lot of questions why.
However they are becoming irrelevant.
I am disconnecting from it.
They are not important anymore.
What I want to write down, is that I was never supposed to be put up for adoption in the first place.
That I was sick and supposedly my mother was not able to take care of me, is not enough reason to give me up.
Just something I’d like to express and say.
Perhaps there were other reasons at play that what happened, happened.
And that is given me more reason to say what I want to say.
There was nothing to give up about me.
But I started to believe I was to be given up, because this happened to me.
Can you imagine what this has been doing to my health and wellbeing?
To my life, to the people I was meeting, my job and the things I thought I was meant for.
Whatever happened, the reason for someone to tell my mother to give me up for adoption.
I was still alive and to go to an orphanage and putting me up for adoption was not where I was supposed to be going.
However it did happen.
And however it did happen.
What I would like to express and make clear.
Even if it is just for myself.
Since this is my love journey.
My mother never left me.
I was never abandoned by her.
She never failed me nor let me down.
This is not some fairytale I am writing down nor some wishful thinking.
Because I want to believe in it.
It is simply true.
Because when people told otherwise, I never believed them.
You know, I was there when all of this happened.
This is why I know it is the truth.
The tears I saw when she brought me to the orphanage.
That goodbye I didn’t understand.
Because I thought she would come back, somehow.
Like all those other times.
However this time it was different.
I understand it now.
Why she didn’t come back and why she was so sad that last time I saw her.
That sadness I can still feel, since I am so sad about it still.
She just didn’t come back that one time.
That is what stayed in my mind.
Till this day.
The same as that sentence that for some reason I don’t know, is not coming back.
And when I went looking for her, years later.
I found out she had already passed away.
But I can only understand that sadness she has been feeling.
Since I am so extremely sad about this whole situation.
Which is coming back in this beautiful sentence that is up in the air somewhere.
A representation of my mother.
The thought about this sentence is doing that.
The sadness I feel is connected with her.
That I miss her still.
For me it didn’t matter what happened.
Since the fact is that I was very very sick, yes.
Just the thought that she would come back was good enough for me.
It kept me alive.
I was still so little.
Not even 4 years old.
I was waiting for her for so long.
This thought was taken away by people I didn’t know.
Because they thought they could just do that.
To tell my mother to give me up.
It is not about the things that happened why I was put up for adoption or anything else that happened to me after that.
Those were also not so nice.
It is the thought of my mother that stayed in my mind and kept me alive somehow.
She didn’t come back for reasons I can’t understand.
Nor will I ever.
Since those thoughts are not mine.
The reasons that my mother had to give me away.
And I guess that is what this story is about.
That started with a sentence that was not coming back anymore.
For reasons I didn’t know.
The same as my mother.
One day in the past.
But what I realize and understand.
Although I am apart from her and we were separated, because someone made that decision. If it was a decision at all.
Just given it the benefit of the doubt.
I can never be parted from my mother.
Even if the outside world is telling otherwise.
You know, I will always be her daughter.
It will overrule everything that happened.
Where all these questions I had seemed to be disappearing.
It goes back to that point of truth and innocence.
Where I let go of any resentment and anger.
That have served its place.
I will always be a part of her and vice versa.
Nature is stronger than anything else.
Where I feel at home and secure.
Although she passed a way, some years ago.
I will always be reminded by her.
Not just because she didn’t come back anymore that one time.
Or any other memory I have from her.
Good and bad.
But because I am her daughter.
Forever and always.
And she is my mother.
Whatever people say about that.
There isn’t any circumstance that can take that away.
No illness or anything else in that category.
I will always be connected with her.
Even if I don’t want to.
Like any mother-daughter relationship I don’t always want to look like her.
I guess that is just reality.
She just isn’t around anymore.
However, she lives on in me and so will I.