Thanks so much for this difficult and delectable post… Hard to eat it, but I feel I must! –can’t call all if it “yummy”, but some if it is’
I don’t want to remember, yet I do; I’d rather be asleep –as if I’ve eaten something incompatible with my system. Something I can’t digest –though I’ve had many years to get used to it.
I’m recalling –though I don’t want to– THE DAY when my deceased ex-father-in-law said I wasn’t a “real mother” because I’d adopted my children, one of whom was his niece –didn’t matter to him (he also didn’t come to my wedding, for which I made all dresses in the wedding party except my wedding gown) …. Clearly the way he defined “what constituted “real” differed extremely from ways in which I defined “real” / “realities“…. So what was the equivalent of a “real” mother?
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