What Adopted People Would Write on the Walls of the Mother
In Flourish with Pam Cordano and in The Story Under the Story with Robyn Gobbel, I asked adopted people to take a few minutes and imagine what they would write on the walls of their mother before they permanently evacuated the shelter of her for an entirely new life.
The idea had come to me as I thought about where I started as a writer. I had struggled for a long time figuring out how to even write my story when I didn’t know how it started, when I didn’t know who conceived me, where, or why I was relinquished and were I was for the first ten weeks of my life. In Flourish, Pam had us think about the fact that the hands we have are the same hands we had when we were inside the mother, and so in this way we have proof we are the same person: the hands that type these words were also the hands that touched the walls of her, touched the cord that bound us, touched the body that was mine when I was still hers.
I wondered what the me that hadn’t been born, hadn’t yet been relinquished, would have to say to her. I wondered what I would want to leave behind.
I thought about the 40,000 year old handprints on the walls of the cave in Spain that say I was here. I thought about how we as a society revere those handprints, revisioning a form of graffiti into holy relics.
I want to have left something holy with my mother, something that would help me feel tied to her even after everything between us was either cut or erased.
I want to have written I love you inside of her. I would feel better knowing that was there even though I never met her again, even though she is dead now and really, really, really gone.
This is what others said they would have written on the walls of their mother:
I love you.
I'm excited to meet you.
Why are you so sad?
I can't wait to meet my brother and help you take care of him.
My dad lied to you. He's 47 and his other children are 17 and 12.
Don't listen to your mother.
I need to stay with you.
Please don't give me to strangers.
I'm sorry my dad left you, but we will be ok as long as we are together.
J
Who are you?
Why did you want me to die?
Why don’t you want me?
We are the same. Don’t give me away.
Don’t give yourself away.
C
Why?
I’ll be good, I promise
Please!
Don’t you see we can be something special?
It makes me sad you don’t want me, you haven’t even seen me
How can you make this decision?
This decision for ME?
This is changing both our lives forever
Don’t you see?
How can you?
K
Baby Girl was here
My mommy
My safe place
I want to stay here forever
Don’t make me go
Don’t let them take me
Please don’t forget me
Baby Girl was here
My mommy
My safe place
I want to stay here forever
Don’t make me go
Don’t let them take me
Please don’t forget me
J
Thanks for keeping me safe and warm inside here, even if that's not how you always felt.
I heard your laugh, I FELT your laugh, the vibrations wrapped around me.
I hope you continue to have many more times you can laugh like that, without guilt or shame, even after I leave this space and place.
C
Please don’t leave me. Please don’t let me go. It’s too much. I can’t handle it. I am going to explode. PLEASE DON’T DO IT! I am going to miss you so much I can’t bear it. All my life. PLEASE DON’T GIVE ME AWAY!
J
“I’m sorry your heart quickened when you learned of me and I grew until I had to jump feet first from you so you have a scar as a reminder of the mystery that grew into a secret, “------ was here”, maybe my siblings will take the warning I have left for them, you, our only common place.
T
I have had my needs met here.
Who are you?
I feel safe here.
What is happening next?
I feel connected to you.
Do you feel connected to me?
Are you sad?
Do you feel ashamed of yourself?
Of me?
K
I would draw you tulips with all of my fingers and my toes, all over. Not so you'll see them of course, but so that you will feel it, and be reminded that I am real, and I am here with you, and I really just want you to know that you are, as you are, the only thing I need.
M
