Stereotypical

To The Woman Who Gave Me Up

I knew about you my entire life,

but you were a mystery.

All I knew was the color of your eyes and hair.

I often fantasized about what you looked like –

about what your other children were like –

about your house and life.

For years I did not care to meet you;

I did not think about you much.

Not out of anger,

no,

but simply because I had better things to do.

Then I was angry –

I heard about your life and all I could think was:

how foolish is she!

But then I found you digitally.

There was no more anger,

only curiosity

and an emotion beyond what language can convey.

At sixteen I wanted to meet you,

but you were busy –

busy improving yourself and your life.

I was proud of you,

and I understood.

The timing simply wasn't right.

Five years passed since then

and I am ready

(I think).

There is so much to say –

so much I wish to express.

But, I suppose,

first and foremost,

I want to thank you.

Your sacrifice is something I cannot imagine,

and there is no way of knowing how it affected you.

But you gave a childless woman a baby.

That is, one could say, the ultimate gift.

Though I may never have children of my own –

never understand that bond –

you are still owed at least that:

a thank you.

I could say it until my death, and even then,

it still wouldn't be enough.

So, if were are ever to meet,

maybe you will see this –

you will see this and know

that I am eternally grateful,

and I wish you endless happiness.