Silence

It's been over a month since I've heard from "Mommie" To say that it doesn't hurt is a lie.
How can a mother, MY mother be so cold? All the childish fantasies I had about her have been ripped to shreds.
She never was looking for me, she never wanted me and is less than thrilled that I found her.
How do I live with being rejected and unwanted AGAIN?
What kind of human being hurts someone at such a deep level and where do I go from here? Where does the pain go?
For now I put one foot in front of the other and keep going.
I'm doing a side route around her to contact other family members. I finally reached out to my sister but she has been just as reluctant as my mother. Which opens up a whole other level of hurt. 
She's the one Mommie kept, older than me, whiter than me, better than me? 
I can't take from her that which was never mine to begin with. I am no threat to her, I just wanted to know her.
But after her lukewarm email I am second guessing that too!
To have a life long search end like this is heartbreaking to say the least and makes me wonder if I've wasted my time after all. 

The Waiting Game

It's been 2 weeks since I've heard from dear old bMom....
The angry adult side of me wants to just say FU and forget about her. I mean who the hell does she think she is playing with my life like this?
But the child in me who has searched for 48 years wants to know why she couldn't love me. Then and now. Why she kept my older sister and why she gave ME away.
I know the sound of the mail truck like my dogs know the sound of the treat jar.
Waiting.....Waiting.....for her letter.
I am held prisoner by her and it is not a position I am used to being in.
This fog of depression and helplessness threatens to take me over yet again.
From her 1st cruel rejection to her last letter I am on a roller coaster that she is driving.
My entire summer has been a waiting game, a search that has gone nowhere. Hours and hours spent at the computer searching for info and clues.
All the things I wanted to do this summer have passed me by and I can't recapture that time.
I am so angry at her for this and angry at myself for allowing it. This doesn't just affect me you bitch!
My granddaughter feels it too, my lack of energy, my sadness, my ache.
She needs me to be a consistent figure for her and your selfishness is robbing me of that. For that I hate you!
And I hate myself even more for allowing you to control my emotions.
And then there is the tiniest glimmer of hope as I listen for the mail truck to bring me one of your letters...........
And so I wait.................................................................