How can I tell this precious dream of mine,

Whose little arms so trustingly entwine

Themselves around my neck and round my heart,

That at her dawn of life I played no part?

How can I tell her that her first small tear

Was shed in truth, when I was nowhere near.

 

To comfort her, as only mother can,

According to the great maternal plan?

Dear child, forgive me for my small deceit 

To hear you lisping “Mummy” was so sweet

And anything on earth that I can do,

I swear I will, to make it up to you.

 

This precious piece comes from a very old English  (UK) magazine and was lovingly cut out and kept secretly by my mother…only to be discovered this week, some eight months after her death.

 

It’s fair to say that she really did carry this close to her heart and reading it today gently reminds me of the secret pain she carried along with all the love and dreams she held for me, and my other adopted sister.

 

I can only wonder how much lighter her journey may have been if 60 years ago there had been as much information and emotional support as is available today. Thank you Jigsaw for your regular support group meetings, they offer a way for us all to know ourselves and others better.