pondering & projects, pictures & pearls

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Sunday Girl - Part 2, 'Found'

April 2000 - The Reunion

Waiting at Perth Airport, my tummy is doing somersaults, my heart is twisting and contorting in all different directions.
Will she recognise me? Will I know it's her when I take one look at her?
Oh I feel sick, Thank God I have this pram to cling onto,
my knuckles are white, I'm shaking.
Oh this boy, this beautiful baby of mine, so new, so innocent.
She won't even know if he looks like me or not because she never knew me at that age.
She never knew me at all.
Oh what if she wants to cuddle him - not sure I'm ok with that, that's MY baby.
Come to think of it, I want her to cuddle me, hold me.

And there she is.

I don't know who sees who first but amongst the crowd we lock eyes.
The same eyes.
The tears.
The relief.
The embrace.

She holds me,
Better late than never.

A rush of emotions spill out in that moment and my world stands still. Actually I think hers does too, or maybe it really only just begins to move for the first time in 21 years.

We talk.
Her lips are bigger than mine. Her voice has a sing-song tone to it and I like it's rhythm. It's all just so different, yet the same,
so strange.

We can't peel our eyes away, stealing glances at any opportunity we can get.

Amazing! Somebody actually looks like me. I came from somewhere. Someone.

The questions,
the regret,
hangs in the air like a strange smell we cover over with nice things like perfume.
Oh her perfume! Had my newborn senses registered that scent at birth and placed it in the filing cabinet of my mind for such a time as now?

Perhaps it's all just fantasy, I'm caught up in the emotion,

Surely she must want me now that she's seen me?

Oh but my Mum, the one I've grown up with, I love her. All of this will be hurting her so much... I wish I didn't have to. She had wanted me all along, should that have been enough??
I don't know what to do. 
I want this. I need this, I'm hurting too much to just let it go.

Who am I?
I've never known.

I'll be Sunday for her,
and Rachel for Mum.
I'll be good, I promise.
It'll be the best of both worlds.
A good daughter, an honouring daughter, a tolerant, patient and pleasing daughter. You both just tell me what you want and I'll do it my best. We can all be happy...can't we? Please?

I hear about a family I know nothing about. Tales of the land of the long white cloud. I want to grasp it, to live it, to understand 
and to accept 
that it just wasn't meant to be.

I want to show her my life. To show her I made it. To show her my childhood, my achievements. I want to show her the ones who hadn't given me life but made it into a good one. The ones she gave me up for. The ones I'm oh so proud of for loving without reservation, despite my demands and inner yearnings.

Not possible.
Not then,
Not now,
maybe not ever,    and I guess I'm ok with that.

Two worlds.
I fit into neither.
and over the years I begin to realise I was never meant to.
I wasn't made for here.

Found at last.
The moment captured.
Never to be lost again.


  1. I have been waiting in anticipation for part II...you know I did wonder about whether you were part Maori...I see it in your children :)
    Your story intrigues me as the one question we always ask when meeting someone from back home is where they are from and often times you can find a family connection there somewhere along the line.
    That picture really does tell a thousand words and more...it's just beautiful!!