Being left behind

Just at the age of three my mother left my father and I behind. At that time I didn't understand what was going on and eventually I forgot that I had a mother. The court arranged to set up child support and planned visits one weekend each month. My mother always seemed so happy to see me, but to me she was more of an annoyance than anything else. However, I was an ignorant eight year old girl, that didn't know anything more than what the people around her told her. As months passed I found out that my mother had other children. It made me a bit jealous and also sad at the same time.How can she just go out and have other children? I felt sadden, but at the same time I wanted to know more about my half siblings. I was very interested knowing that I had two other sisters out in the world. I wondered if they were into the same interest as I was or if we even remotely resembled one another. I dreamed about meeting them, but that dream never did come true. When I got a little bit older, around the age of ten, my mother came by with a man. I didn't know who this man was, but he wanted me to call him "dad". He bought me presents, showed affection to my mother, and even asked for her hand in marriage. Personally I didn't like the guy and thought he was very weird. It was none of my business, by this I didn't think much of my mother. My father always said she was sick in her head. I didn't fully understand what he meant, but I assumed that it was the reason why she couldn't take care of her three children. The three of us, two who lived with their fathers and one who lived with her grandparents. My father was poor and we could barely afford to eat. He spent his money on beer or cigarettes, he used vulgar language around me, and he brought over strange people. It didn't really bother me. I knew he was trying to take care of a child on his own. My friends would ask me why I didn't have a mother, why I never made a Mother's Day car, and why my mother never came to parent's night. I remember when i was in the second grade, the teacher forced me to make a Mother's Day card. I was trying to explain to her that I had no mother. She didn't believe me and told me, "Nonsense, everyone has a mother Jessica, now go do your assignment like everyone else." I was upset, because I was making a card for "No one" I wouldn't be bale to give it to anyone. It was useless to me, as it was to anyone else. When I finally turned twelve, I found out that my mother got pregnant. I didn't feel bad this time. I knew that my sister would enjoy the company of my mother and her father. Unfortunately, the father left my mother and refused to take care of my new baby sister. She was then put up for adoption. I didn't realize at the time that my grandmother Joan was giving the potential adoptive parents information about myself. It was as if I was a show dog, it was sick in my opinion. They told Joan that they didn't want me around my sister, they wanted me to stay away. They arranged to go to different church services, it was sad for me knowing that I couldn't see my own sister. Her adoptive parents knew that I was a musical genius and took that to their advantage in having my sister take violin lessons. At this point, I knew they were only using her. As the years went by, I became less inclined to go see my grandparents and eventually stopped seeing my mother. Seven years passed by without seeing or talking to my mother. I wondered if she even cared to see me or even talk to me, this thought was in the back of my head. I decided to give one of my cousins a call to get my grandmother Joan's phone number. Once I called Joan, I talked about myself and the things that I've achieved over the years and asked her if she knew where my mother might be, she said she was in a hospital under special care. I knew then I had to face what everyone in my family was trying to hide from me and that was her Schizophrenia. I thought at the age of twenty that I would be able to handle the visit, but I was surely wrong. Expecting and in visioning my mother to be perfect to look the way she did when I was twelve, to greet me with a warm smile, and possibly be happy to see me. She wasn't like this at all. I entered the building and asked for my mother. The nurses were shocked to see new faces and then simply went to go get her. When my mother came out, her body was skin and bones, her face was aged tremendously, and her focus wasn't there. It wasn't my mother, it was a person who went through years of burden, a person who didn't know who they were in the world, someone without a cause. Her first words to me were "Jessica?" as if she was hoping it would be me. I was going to cry, but I didn't want her to see me in tears and gave her a warm smile. I sat down with her in the lobby, we didn't say much, only because before she came out they drugged her. It was hard talking to a person who wasn't fully there. I left shortly and felt horrible for not buying her flowers on Mother's Day. Walking out shaking and almost crying, I felt this time that I was leaving my mother behind.

Hello!

My first time on a blog site

uhhh, Hi? lol