Birth & Separation

Writing to purge my thoughts

the roses will bud for my birthday

It’s my birthday tomorrow (as I write this). I try to make my birthday special for me….because there is no one else to do so, frequentkly I fail. I am orphaned and widowed, so it’s really a sad state of affairs. And while I am good at strategy, I also have way too much optimism for how things will turn out in my life. I am not sure where it comes from, certainly not my realities. My optimistic planning most relates to birthday parties (not just mine). On the plus side my kids had some very cool cakes. I check the rose garden everyday, mother nature will give me rosebuds for my birthday. I will need the rosebuds because this year’s plans all happened in my head.

That’s not sushi, it’s marshmallows fondant.

But for me, birthdays are more a hope and a prayer….but one that doesn’t get answered. The day after my birth I was removed from my Mom and sent across state and nation boarders until I landed in at my final destination on June 10th in the home of some white supremacists who believed if they adopted a heathen, their evil version of god would bless them with their own children, Unfortunately for me, their god did bless them.

9 of swords/spades represents June 1-10 (card decks I made)

My psyche goes through the wringer in the days marking up this journey. Every year, my psyche cries and purges a memory I can’t recall. I feel deeply alone and vulnerable. I hate feeling alone, some people retreat into themselves when depressed. Not me, because my pain is to be alone, crying and ignored. So I might lash out or reach out depending on where I am that year. I question if sometimes my plans are self sabotage and I just don’t see it? Do I plan and reach out to the most unavailable people. Did I procrastinate on the tickets leaving myself with nothing to do?

When I was 8 I told an entire church of white people (and more than a few adopted brown kids like me) that I wished I had been aborted instead of adopted. Being that most white supremacists are anti abortion like they think it’s the devils work, my statement didn’t go over well. It’s not that I wish to die, I truly don’t. I just wish I hadn’t been born to survive this world in the first place. But being adopted by people who never planned on loving me, means that my survival became up to myself. I fought to stay alive my whole life, so I am certainly not going to be the one who ends it. I just wish life had different option.

In my culture we pick our Moms when we are in the spirit world. I picked mine and then was stoeln from her and I have truly never recovered from this. I have helped countless people find their real moms who birthed them. Mine didn’t want to be found. I found my family (on both sides) and twice got turned away. It happens. Having your children stolen over and over and over hurts. Moms give up. My records state poverty and backwards practices (likely tradition) fas reasons for my removal. My little sister’s records stated substance abuse 6 years later. It could be a lie, but I can feel how this happens. My white side…I am guessing they rejected me because my mom and I are Indigenous and as such she lost me, I wonder if they blame me and her for my removal or the state? Or do they blame my dad for loving a Native Woman? I found my father’s entire genology online. I even found one who was also an indie tarot artist like me, she was also mixed race so I reached out….crickets. That was my 48th or 49th birthday. Why on my birthday? I told myself it would re write my history if she answered. She didn’t.

I don’t know what I want this year. A trip I didn’t plan, a party I didn’t plan. I cake I haven’t gotten the ingredients for. People to show up out of the blue, ghosts to arrive but also I didn’t plan a seance and the child who does them is working. I did find love once, he was a gentle feminine spirit in a very muscular body that fought all his fears from being a scoop survivor (like me). Except in the end he was not a survivor. I would like his ghost to visit this year, or perhaps the living. I do want rosebuds, and at least I will get this.

I want to be loved.

Since I was a child

A baby

I just desired

To be loved

Please

Creation

Don’t leave me alone

Again