Have you ever wished that today could be tomorrow?
When a baby looks around it’s such a sight to see. If he or she could only speak, they would have much to say about how they feel knowing that their mother is gone away. When I was a child I lay awake thinking profound thoughts about my mother wondering why she was no longer by my side. Something deep-seated and intangible about her absence caused my heart to ache. Crying out in my sleep I’d softly moan, “My heart bleeds for you. It has been many days since I was born but your sacred voice still rings inside. Why have you forsaken me? When are you coming back for me?”
Feeling stagnant and restless, I dreamed of rendezvousing with my biological mother in sweet bliss, an “affaire de coeur” before I part this life, before the flower heads of youth blanch and wilt, slowly wither and gradually fade away. A wholesome life that is free of strife is a sacred concept that brings new meaning to my days on earth that helps me get through any weather. I whimsically long for the clouds to clear and rays of sun to peak through. I want the tower bells to ring, sounding an alarm about a bona fide love for someone who is missing and send a message of hope to the outcast child wanting to know why it ended this way.
I get restless when the sky is cheerless and despairing, always raining in my heart. Darkened clouds overhead, dripping endlessly on my head. Feeling the stillness of the night, I never feel exactly right. I’m frightened and confused about my plight and easily overcome by endless dreaming of fantastic things that may never happen. My life is an endless delay of creeping days and endless hours of sleepless nights. Lacking a clear perspective of worldliness and sophistication, I’m simultaneously overcome with the pain of yesterday’s sorrow and disheartened by feelings of hopelessness when dreaming of tomorrow. I pray to God both day and night, “Is this the circle of life that I should expect to go on forever? I would go anywhere, do anything, to catch a glimpse of her.”
I’ve seen ephemeral summer clouds gently floating overhead, pink apple blossoms in springtime and autumn foliage ablaze in multiple hues of red and orange. I’ve heard birds happily chirping to attract a mate and dogs and cats spat. I’ve marveled at lightning storms, rainbows and deep snows as the seasons pass. I’ve gazed at my reflection in a deep blue lake of glass and felt the power of thunderous ocean waves rolling in. I’ve felt the warmth of the sun’s rays at dawn and when the sun becomes a red ball of flame and turns the horizon pink, I robotically pour myself another drink.
Our lack of acquaintance and familiarity triggers desperate feelings of heartfelt pain, salty tears and sorrowful rain. Leisure isn’t fun any more. Feelings of being unheralded, anonymous, isolated and alone set my mood. Enduring endless days, lonesome nights and a marathon of ceaseless dreaming is what my life is all about. Boundless days and endless nights—an endless cycle of déjà vu day after day, season after season. I am an adoptee who feels the plight of the orphaned refugee. I don’t even know my parents’ names. Seeking eternal bliss, I whimsically dream of effectuating a heavenly love affair of the heart and the healing peace of mind a mother daughter reunion would make. I am restless and would be forever grateful and feel fulfilled and whole, if by happenstance some kindred soul would expose my aching heart to my ma and pa.