But with the Nelsons, their loss was much greater than mine. My father never died. He just left. Of course I’ve dealt with abandonment issues growing up, but there was a time in my teens where he reached out to talk to me, tried to be a part of my life again and I said no. I didn’t need him. At least I didn’t at the time, fueled by teenage pride.
My birth mother never died either, just is a drug junkie and abandoned my brothers and I when I was 4. As selfish as it is, I wish she had died. She lived on the same tiny 7 mile Long Island as me for most of my life(until I got married and moved) but would turn the other direction if she saw me. My Dad got remarried to a woman who ended up adopting me and she’s filled the gaps in some ways but I think I’ll always grieve the person I could have been if my birth mom was normal.
