For Halloween and the Eve of National Adoption Awareness Month: Ghosted

Ghosted

Billie is a ghost.

She saw me once, but I can’t remember seeing her.

Doctors sent me to the nursery, and then I went to foster care.

Billie went to the OR for surgery and then home to recover.

She appears in many photos, so I know she was real.

People talk about her, but I’ve never heard her voice.

She worked in restaurants and bakeries most of her life.

She never fed me.

She enjoyed country tunes, the old style.

I never heard her sing.

She danced and swayed to the music.

She never rocked me.

She argued fiercely with her boyfriend.

She and I never had a mother-daughter fight.

She wanted to find me and had carbon copies of papers.

I had a new name and a changed birth certificate.

She moved away to California, to start a new life.

I moved to Florida to start college.

Her heart valves gave out, and she died feeling broken.

I fell in love and returned to Ohio. My heart grew when my babies were born.

I’ve never felt Billie’s touch, but I have felt her presence in the room and in my daughters’ eyes.

Billie is a ghost.

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