Becky Marie Mattox stood at the edge of her backyard, her feet sinking slightly into the soft earth as she stared at the horizon. This was her favorite time of day, when the world seemed to pause, and she could get lost in her thoughts. She often wondered about her place in the world, about the family that had chosen her, and the woman who had brought her into existence. She will never forget that day on the playground when her friend came over to her and blurted out "your mother gave you away." Becky just looked at her confused. She went on to say "she didn't love you." Becky thought to herself, of course my mother loves me. The friend persisted, "not that mother, your real mother, the woman who had you and gave you away."
Becky sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through an old photo album. Each picture was a piece of her history with Mommie Mae and John David. The love in their eyes, captured in each image, was undeniable. "I was chosen," she whispered to herself, recalling her mother's words. It was a comforting thought, yet the mystery of Dorothy, her biological mother, lingered in her mind. How could this woman carry a baby to term, give birth, and then give her away. Why didn't she love her baby?
Becky sat at her desk, surrounded by books and papers, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to know more about Dorothy. "Who was she?" she wondered aloud. It was time to ask Mommie Mae about the past, about the woman who had given her life.
Becky approached Mommie Mae while she was stirring the pot. "Mommie Mae, can you tell me about Dorothy?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension. <span data-type="mention" class="mention" data-id="2" data-label="" style="background-color: hsla(314, 100%, 90%, 0.3); color: hsl(314, 100%, 40%)"></span> Mommie Mae began, her eyes softening with empathy. <span data-type="mention" class="mention" data-id="2" data-label="" style="background-color: hsla(314, 100%, 90%, 0.3); color: hsl(314, 100%, 40%)"></span>Dorothy went to school with your older siblings. She had just given birth to a baby boy the year before. She was not with his father any more when she got pregnant with you. She did take you home after you were born, but she struggled to take care of two children under two. She knew your father and I were foster parents, so she asked me if I would help out, she was going to put you up for adoption.
Becky walked down the familiar street, her heart pounding with anticipation. She was on her way to meet Dorothy for the first time. As she approached the modest house, a sense of calm washed over her. Dorothy stood on the porch, her eyes filled with a mix of nervousness and hope.
Becky and Dorothy sat across from each other, the silence heavy with unspoken words. <span data-type="mention" class="mention" data-id="4" data-label="" style="background-color: hsla(188, 100%, 90%, 0.3); color: hsl(188, 100%, 40%)"></span> Dorothy said, her voice trembling slightly. "I needed to know," Becky replied softly. As they talked, the barriers between them began to dissolve, replaced by an understanding and a shared sense of belonging. But, after saying those words, she slowly began to get angry, realizing she was standing across from the woman who had given her away. Becky had to get out of there, she was too emotional and angry about be given up. She didn't want to talk with her anymore.
