First…. yes, Mom is doing great. We speak regularly although I’ve not been able to see her due to COVID regulations. Don’t panic, all is well.
But my other mother, my biological mother, died on Tuesday. My biological father is also dead, both from cancer, and both before the age of 60. Both had to wear colostomy bags for their final years. Both were troubled souls.
I never spoke to my biological mother, although she stalked me regularly and tried to make contact (I also stalked her back, but I never once contacted her). She’d mistreated me as a baby, which is why I ended up adopted in the first place.
Both of my biological parents did a ‘first’. My biological Dad was the journalist who named Spaghetti Junction. My biological mother was the first person in England to get banned from entering a police station.
I had some very good reasons to keep my distance. I’m not even sure how I’m meant to feel at the moment. I don’t feel regret from not ever meeting her, I don’t feel sad that she died, I’m not feeling any particular relief from the fact she won’t be bothering me anymore.
But I’m feeling something that I’ve not felt before, and I can’t name it.