Love and abandonment and love

Poem, 25 October 2019

I was born in the 1960s
A dark-skinned snub-nosed girl
No reason for my parents to beat the drums
But they did, incredibly!

My mother
Who had been dressing my brother
In long braids and girl’s clothes
For the past years.

My father
Who it looks like I captured
Around my thumb firmly and decisively
For the next 26 years.

My brother who jumped up and down
In delight at the prospect
That his parents had bought a baby sister
From the shop around the corner.

---

Sitting on the balcony
Watching birds in Ubud
That is when the first call came.
There is a child, a baby girl
And they had matched her with us, incredibly!

We sped across the seas
Hearts and minds full and curious
To see this tiny radiant being
Who captured our souls firmly and decisively
For 11 years now and counting.

A child abandoned
It stated plainly and heart-achingly
By her birth mother
For reasons undisclosed
And mentioned her sadness at having to let go.

---

Sitting on the balcony today
Watching birds in Ubud
That is when the tears finally came
At abandonment and betrayal
By a birth mother
Mine, after 35 years
Of love and caring in her own peculiar way.

Following my father’s tragic departure
Twenty long years ago
I finally became that dark-skinned snub-nosed girl
Nobody should have paid attention to.

My brother stormed up and down
Anxious at the prospect
Of having to dissipate imminent fortune
Within clear and tangible grasp.

My hand was twisted firmly and decisively
Till I signed here, there and everywhere.
My heart wrenched and torn out
As the rug was yanked mercilessly
From beneath my feet.

My mother quickly and completely
Bowed down to her son’s sensitivities
Far in advance of his even sensing them.
In later years,
She started treating me like a stranger
When I tried to call or visit.

---

My mother, she is still there
But fading fast.
I have no access to her
While she has apparently lost interest
In the dark-skinned snub-nosed girl
She once birthed.

Dementia now appears
To be creeping in to shatter what remains
Of long-ago love and memories.
Left to me is not even the option
Of protecting and caring for her
In a society where the mentally ill
Are discarded like expended waste.

---

Is it better to be abandoned,
Than to have known love
And then to be abandoned?
Like a much-pampered dog
Turned loose on the street
When circumstances become inconvenient?

My little one is getting older now
Usually pre-occupied with Youtube and cool
She took my hand in hers the other night
Looked in my eyes and said,
“I feel sad for you Amma,
At what happened with your family.”

No, it is still worthwhile
To have known love
And to have felt love
For it enables you to give love,
And without being able to love,
What else is there?