I'm adopted. And I'm thankful for that fact for a multitude of reasons, the most important being that I do not share genetic material with the yahoo's that 'raised' me. Don't get me wrong, I love my folks. They each have their strong points, and conversely, their weak ones.
My mother....let me paint you a picture. Mom grew up on a shit-dirt-poor farm. Her house had two rooms, outdoor plumbing, and 8 other kids PLUS her two parents. In the 60's and 70's. In the Midwest. Missouri, to be exact. (my Brother L and I call it "misery"). She's been a transplant to the south for longer than she ever lived in the Midwest, however, so I guess it's only right to refer to her as a southern lady. She's floating down this little river we call Denial and that's where she likes to stay. I think she probably used to be a really nice person, but over the years she's dealt with being a (kind of) single parent, bad relationships, weight gain, addiction -- not her, but one of us kids (not myself, thankfully) -- and a host of other bad shit. Kind of turned her into an asshole. I guess maybe life does that to some people. I'm not sure. Jury's still out.
She grew up always cooking and cleaning for her family as she was the youngest girl. She never had a seat at the family's table until she was nearly 16 years old and one of her sisters got married off at the ripe old age of 17. Don't worry, it worked out. They stayed married until my Uncle T died. Sad day.
Mom was diagnosed with Lupus when she was 16. And at 18, she died. Stopped breathing. Her pericardium, the sac around the heart, filled with fluid and collapsed. It was then she saw Jesus. And Jesus told her that she had work left to do on Earth and she wasn't allowed to hang around in Heaven just yet.
She's been a secretary for thirty years.
My Dad....I don't know him that well. He and Mom split when I was five. He was a big wig for a big box store and we grew up with money. Dad had more than Mom but he paid dearly in child support and we never lacked or wanted for anything. Ever. My Dad is a pretty goofy guy, likes to tell shitty jokes, loves mathematical jokes (even though nobody ever understands them), and is an avid hunter.
He taught me to shoot a gun when I was three. At one time he owned what we all referred to as "The Cabin". The Cabin was really a multi-million dollar fucking estate. But we didn't know that. We had no idea that people didn't have homes with nannies and guest houses and heated pools and recessed lighting to artfully display your gun collection. We didn't understand that people didn't have summer houses or lake homes or jetskis and boats and four wheelers and vacations to exotic places, like a TWO week vacay to Disney. Yeah. That happened.
Dad is pretty cool. He's always been very....'go with the flow'. We don't see each other much, we don't talk to each other much, and that seems to work out for the both of us. He's got a wife that is the same age as my Boyfriend (she's young) and he seems happy-ish. So good for him.
My folks met in their little hometowns at a football game. Opposing sides. The county rivalry. It was doomed from the beginning. They fell in love, got married, moved away, blah blah blah.
Eventually they found out Mom couldn't have kids. So to adoption they turned. This is where I come in.
After months of trying to get a baby -- apparently white babies are expensive and hard to get -- the adoption agent called them. YOU HAVE A BABY GIRL! Now meet me JUUUUUUSSSSTTTTT this side of the Mexico border in Texas and come and get her.
FROM MY VAN.
MY PARENTS GOT ME FROM THE BACK OF A VAN NEAR THE MEXICO BORDER.
Ya'll, I couldn't make this shit up. I'm not that fucking creative. A VAN. Maybe I was a black market baby, I don't know. Mom swears up and down that I'm not, but Dad won't crack at all. Kinda makes me wonder.
Mom says they pulled up on a dirt road and a little old lady opened the back of the van doors, beckoning them inside. She hands me to Mom and I immediately scream. Mom hands me to Dad and I quiet down and pass the fuck out. Babies respond to stress. I don't know what exactly went down in that van that night except that Mom and Dad brought me home and here I am.
I am the girl who was adopted from the back of a van near the Mexico border in Texas. Yep.
Comments/Feels/Stories : Drop em off down there. -- Krys
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