I’m anxious to see what the future has in store.
I’m shopping on My Mommy & Daddy’s tap, Mommy has expensive taste, and Daddy always made me work really hard for me to sip from her glass. It will be worth it.
I’m still not too sure of what to feel. Life is good. Love is amazing.
It was easy.
I simply wrote a poem a day for the month before May. Word on the street? National Poetry Month.
I found my Birth Sister, Tara. the only piece of me that I knew EXISTED. Where? Unsure until that day.
Then My birth father appeared. I was…speechless.
I wonder what my Daddy thought when I saw my birth father’s face?
I wondered why Daddy died so soon…I wish he was here with me now. I’m always going to be Daddy’s Girl.
But I look like Cyrus. I act like Cyrus. I think like him to, he just doesn’t know it. I may never tell him. I Love Him. I do. Why? I have no reason not to. The past can not be changed even if that is what I wanted. I don’t want that. I Love my Mommy. She’s still all that I will ever need. Nothing will change that. Not even meeting my birth parents. My birth Mom is gone tho…
I hated Cyrus when I found out.
I got over it tho’.
It is not entirely his fault. I met his family, and I kissed his cheek with resentment and whispered “I Love you too”, but it was true. I do.
He has a beautiful family. A wife, and I have two younger brothers, and I think they are the most handsome young men I’ve laid eyes on thus far. I Love them a lot. More than they will ever… understand.
I wish she was here…The woman who brought me here. I’ve seen pictures. I just want to look at her and see me look back at Her. I hope that made since, it does to me.
From what I’ve heard about her. She was sweet, funny, loved to laugh, loved to dance…RANDOMLY Lol. :-), I heard she had a thaanng for fashion. She loved people. Everyone. Her smile was divine. I saw pictures. She was beautiful. I Look Like Her. She had cancer. She smoked weed. She used needles. She had cancer. She had aids. She had seven children. She was lost. She held in her emotions. She never told anyone what was REALLY going on. She was hurt. She was lonely. It was her against everyone else. She kept a smile. Love beaded up like sweat on her honey coated chocolate complexion. Dripped from her brow. Leaped from her lips. I Wish She could of shown me her. That would complete THIS, not ME. I am not like her though. I commend her. I thank her. I do wish she never game me her pride. I wish I never got the secret gene. I’m glad I have her Love. An amazing woman raised me, and She told her that she would and she told her that I would be okay and She was right. I’m okay. I’m great.
Everyone said I looked like her. I could’t sleep for a week.
I love this reunion with my birth family. I do.
I am more than grateful for this closure. However, Life is consistant.
I wish this experience on no one.
I’m getting to know my siblings. We have to get comfortable with each other. We’re adults now. We’ve missed so much of each other. Thery both write. I’m crying. That just touched me so hard. My birth Mother? She wrote too. She wrote Poetry just like I do. When I say that, write it, or think it. I can’t help but cry….you know?
I started writing poetry because it was the only thing that was mine. The only thing I called my own. No one gave it to me, no one could take it from me, no one couldn’t tell me it wasn’t Love. I thought I made up this love, but…it always was.
I told my Mommy but she had no reason to worry about me abandoning her because…..I am Shadel Christina Preddy. Point. Blank. End of Story.
I’m Kat and Boobies Baby FOR LIFE Lol. …for real :-)
I hope no one else has to have this happen.
If you have kids, just stay.
I’m going to call this venting….I didn’t even mean to type about this.
I can’t believe She dead. Died at age 32. Her her first child when she was 14. God Bless You Tara D. Stanley. Thank You for loving me. I Love You too.
Love to You. Thank You for reading. I really appreciate it if you did read this.
– Shadel Christina Preddy