FURY and FAMILY


Demeter by Shelly Salter

http://www.theepochtimes.com/n2/arts-entertainment/realistic-art-shelly-salter-5536.html

There is NOTHING like the fury of a MOTHER when her child is endangered… hurt… scorned… ignored.

 The words below were posted today on FaceBook, by my daughter, Anna

“so, its been awhile since i talked to my family from my fathers side. so when i found them on here i was very excited. my aunts and uncles (titi’s and tio’s) and my cousins of whom i grew up with. i have missed them all so much. one of my titi’s deleted me as a friend here on face book, which saddens me. you see she is a born again christian and i am not, im pagan. so because i dont worship her go…d i cant be on her page. im her niece her blood, her brothers daughter, and she chooses to stay away. my heart is hurting. i never would of thought she would pick her church going friends over her family, i never did nothing to her or her family. i just loved them. i would never turn someone away because of thier religion, they are alowed to belive in what they want as long as they dont hurt me or my family. and her being christian and being taught to love everyone has fallen short. i have many friends of different religions, and because i am a good person and i try my hardest to do right they love me regardless of what i believe. i guess the saying is true just because your born into a family doesnt mean you are family. as you grow older you make your own family from friends. so i just want to say thankyou to all my friends who love me for me and are not afraid to show it. i love you all so much. and i will always love my titi, and will keep her in my daily thoughts.”

I had to respond, and this is what I said:

“Daughter mine, I love you and am so proud of the woman you have become. If I could ease the ache of your heart, I would. You have other “blood family” members (like cousin Rocky and other cousins), and you have built a Family of Friends as well. If there is one thing I hope I have taught you, it’s that blood does not a family make, and loyalty and respect must be earned, not given cheaply. There is no need for you to bang your head against a stone wall when there are open doors all around you.

By the way, I wonder if Myriam remembers that THIS PATH is how your BIO-FATHER raised you, even before I was in the picture? Part of why we married was because I was of the same faith as he – PAGAN/WICCAN – and I was strong enough to stand up to the pressures from his sisters who seemed to enjoy telling you as a four year old that you and your parents were going to rot in hell. Has Myriam put that same wall of miscommunication and disrespect between her and her brother, Humberto? Has Lydia… or is she still in communication with you? How about Sylvia? Jose?

I hope they read this post. All of them. I hope they contact me. BRING IT, I say. It’s about time the truth be told.

Blessed Be, daughter mine, of whom I am most proud.”

I met my daughter when she was three years old.  I married her father when she was four.  I bought her the first dolly she ever owned, the first carriage she ever pushed.  I also took her to her first MayPole ceremony… her first Circle casting… made her first ritual robe out of a pillowcase.  I may not have birthed this child, but she is MINE. 

I rocked her when she had ear infections, put cold compresses on her head when she had fevers, held her head when she had to vomit, and stood between her and her angry father when I finally said ENOUGH.

It wasn’t until she turned 18 that I became her mother, legally.  We had kept in touch secretly for nearly ten years after the divorce.  The papers were signed, the Judge’s gavel hit the desk, and we were linked, forevermore.  My then-husband’s name is on her birth certificate alongside mine, and he and I are linked too, into eternity, as her parents.  (I am no longer with him, though I hope for him only the best… and I wish that someday we could be, at least, friends.)  She calls my present (and final LOL) husband Pops… and the grandboys call him PopPop.  I am Nana.  She has a lovely man in her life.  We call him Son.  WE ARE FAMILY.  Is there any blood between us?  No.

Years after the adoption, I stood at her shoulder as she birthed those twin sons, whose souls I am sure were chosen for her by the grand-daughter I never met, who resides in the Summerlands, waiting for us to cross over.

To the people who have chosen once again to close the door between themselves and this strong, beautiful, kind, generous, intelligent woman, I say – YOUR LOSS.  She has repeatedly made the effort to have a relationship with you – just as I did with my own parents – and repeatedly, you have pushed her away – as did my own parents.  So I can say that I know how she feels.  I know what she is thinking.  I know how it hurts.

I also know how good it feels to have the Family we have built surround and protect us over the years… Sisters and Brothers, Aunts and Uncles, Spouses, all sent by whomever is our interpretation of GOD/DESS.  It is in the bosom of THAT FAMILY that I hope my daughter finds what I found in mine: the joy and strength to continue living HER LIFE, holding her head high in pride and self-love.  SO MOTE IT BE.

sometimes forget

 

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3 Comments

  1. Anna Tejada said,

    November 17, 2011 at 9:41 am

    thank you mom! xoxoxoxo

    Like

  2. Diane Margaret said,

    November 17, 2011 at 10:15 am

    Bravo!! Many blessings to you & your wonderful daughter!!

    Like

  3. December 17, 2011 at 6:02 am

    i like it, is a nice writing…

    Like


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