Song in my head


close up of piano
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“You Don’t Own Me” by Lesley Gore  


You should take a listen to it, maybe you might could use it one day.

This song has been playing in my head all evening. Funny thing is I do not know why, since this song has nothing to do with anything going on in my life.

I guess sometimes our subconscious “talks” to us, huh?  Maybe mine knows something I don’t. Certainly, this song can be used if you are trying to convey a  certain independent like message to someone. I most certainly aren’t, at least not today. Good song though, I might need to file this somewhere instead of my “File 13”, “File 13” is a euphemism for the trash can. Who knows I might need it to convey a message one day to someone. For right now though, I am pleasantly content with blogging in my personal blog and once again changing the theme I was using. Like furniture moving, I am not easily satisfied with things in the same way all the time. I am always moving our living room around and possibly would be our whole house if I had an opportunity.

Hope you all have a good rest of your day!


DAD, my first guy

Pictures are all I have

They are like a wound with a little salve.

You are and always will be

The very core part of me.

I know you existed I see and hear about it all.

I just wish you were still here for me to call.

Often you are in my head

I find myself thinking of you while looking ahead.

If one little wish I was able to make

It might be to see you, you know before the ache.

Dads are more than a name we give,

They are the ones that teach us how to grow and live.

I never got to have that with you

I often think about what if’s and it makes me blue.

Others get to call up their dads and talk

Some get to spend time with them and go for walks

I get to ponder and wonder a lot

About what I have and what I do not.

It is not your fault I am sure you would had stayed

But that wasn’t how your life was played.

Taken too soon from this earth and from your family

The ones who loved you and made you happy.

I guess some things never come to be

Like my wish for you to had known me.

Or maybe just to spend the day talking to you

And carrying on about the days that we went through.

It’s a good thing memories come around

Because that’s all some have, when their hearts start to frown.

Dad, I know if you knew me

You’d see a lot of you inside of me, probably.

You would have also known how much you meant to me…you know why,

After all you were my first guy.

If only (adopted one’s take on things)

Time does not change very much for me much when it comes to the relationships around me. Often I have tried to find some more meaning, purpose, and reason for the way things usually end up, have been, and so forth. As I get older I have been able to come to terms with very little with my manipulated, messed up family ties. See I never understood what is so wrong that it can’t be mended? What is so distorted that each of us cannot truly see? I am referring to my family, of course.

Let me lay some ground work into the background that I am trying to write about.  I was adopted as an infant. I was not given to strangers but to my biological father’s sister. The circumstances behind and leading to this is one of those distorted, crooked, manipulated things I mentioned before. I wish I could go back in time and really get the low down on what happened during that time period, but for the sake of not hurting everyone’s feeling in my family, I will let that part go. I was raised in the home of my bio Aunt and her husband, my older ( bio cousin) sister, and my (bio cousin) brother.  I know, it gets confusing. Easiest way to explain is my Aunt adopted me.

I remember bringing up the questions to my adopted mother, about where did I come from. I also remember that every time I did that, she would not take it very well. For the longest time I kept my questions very limited. I would refrain from them because I saw the way she looked at me and acted. I did not ever want her to think I was not grateful for her love, or that I wanted to go live with the “unknown” family. I remember many times as a teenager I was torn as to my own feelings of “something missing” and the fact that here I had this family I had been reared in and I frankly had such a battle that it near darn drove me insane. I felt so torn that I felt isolated and a burden to the family I now had. I also felt like no matter how much they said they loved me, they were not completely honest about that. I felt like little orphan Annie, no kidding.  I know that sounds weird, after all I was not orphaned and lived with a family , doing the “family” thing.

I guess no one will ever understand the torment I felt. I wanted to know who I walked like, who I talked like, whose eyes I had, etc. I was in a position where my motives and questions were examined and meant to mean I was not happy where I was and that I wanted to go live with my biological family. That was not the reasons behind my curiosity, but I never could help the family I was living with to understand that. To them it was betrayal. It was not normal. In a way I understand their position that maybe it would mean those dreadful things, like I did not love them, want them, or like living with them, but then again, what did they think when adopting me? Did they honestly think I could be part of a family , that I never saw and was not allowed to be around, and not want to know? I was kept from certain family members because there was a conflict there, somewhere in the family line that said if I was adopted into another part of the family, then the old parts of the family were not to be around me, Say what! I know, is that not crazy messed up? So much between the lines, like I have stated.

So here I am this predicament and no one will tell me anything more than tidbits, pieces, and most certainly their own versions of the story behind my adoption. Now I am a teenager that is confused, hurt, and misplaced. I really think that bothered more than my own mother letting me be adopted out. The fact that I could never be around the connecting family members to my adoption, and the fact that the biological family, I did not get to know. Bad enough was that but I never saw one picture. All the pictures of things were hidden from me as well. I was clueless as to the vast enormity of the concealment to keep me in the dark. It was and still remains not right. I deserved to know things like any other kid who gets adopted. Especially since it was my own family line that adopted me.

Little by little these types of relationships, etc. affected me and still do today. I often think back to the many years that I could had of had a peaceful heart. Many times, many missed opportunities to actually feel a part of something. When a person is kept from those that are a part of them, they begin to change, to feel there is nothing more for their life. I struggle with “forever” in aspects of my life. Sometimes feeling so isolated and left out of the whole family. I see  those around me that have experienced years of togetherness and I long for that.

My immediate family consists of three kids, a husband, and 3 grandkids. I have a cousin who was in my life before and after adoption, for whom I cherish. She has shown me that no matter what I was kept from when I was young, does not have to dictate my today and what I can have now. She taught me to look for my blessings in the here and now. She is an encourager and she is the best. Now that I am older, I try to do what she wants me to do and I try to  hold onto the people, family, etc. I now have and the ones that want to be in my life.

Life is what we make of it. Our past does not define our future. Sure we carry lots of things around with us, like my search for love, belonging, purpose, etc. There is no doubt though, that life is what you take from and re-arrange some, and dispose of. It is the good times the bad times, the in between times and the knowledge you gain. Live your life with those you love around you, never stop questioning things, don’t stop believing and hoping in things.

Thanks for reading!       daisies-flowers-heart-36470.jpg

MwsR ❤

The Most Of It – Poem by Robert Frost

He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder-broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter-love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff’s talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush—and that was all.
Robert Frost


“If” by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream- -and not make dreams your master;
If you can think- -and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on! ‘

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings- -nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And- -which is more- -you’ll be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling


Don’t even

Don’t tell me how to feel or how to be

There is certain complicated parts to me.

I do not think it is your business and I am not looking for approval.

I spent my younger days worrying about that

What people thought when they looked at me

There is a certain stance people like to take,

They are all a bunch that’s filled with a whole lot of fake.

I see they have nothing better to do

Maybe I should pose to them a question or two.maxresdefault

“Do you act this way at home? or

“Is this reason why you are so alone?

I don’t think they would like me to

That is why instead I choose to talk with just a few.

A few of the best un-judgemental people I’ve met/

There is something special when people just accept you

Your flaws and faults, to name a few

Something that lasts when things make a mess of your life

There is a few who will stand by your side.

Don’t even pretend to understand all I have written

You probably think I am reading someone else’s notes.

Look at your life, and

See if you fit there

There is no more room for you in mine, so beware

I am done, finished , and through with it all

So long, see ya, wouldn’t want to be ya.

                                                                MwsR ❤

In the end

In the end will there be peace

at the end of a day
Photo by Monique Laats on

Maybe I should beg while on my knees.

I feel this pressure from above

To take care of those I love.

The need is like none else.

It starts somewhere deep inside myself.

I wish to be close and thought of often

Not left out or forgotten

I hope to have the best of days

Just to heal or mend

I want this all before the END.

                                                MwsR ❤