began to accept the facts.
They had enjoyed one unshakable memory of their mother; they thought that they had known her and understood her personality, and I’d shattered all that in the time it took to read half my letter. They’d never even suspected that their mother held a secret, and certainly not a secret like me, nor another like Hilary.
They had adored and respected their mother. And they had worshiped their grandfather. How had I affected their memories and ingrained opinions of such very special people to them?
THE PREFIX
Identifying my birth-parents within this story is important to me, because I don’t want to imply any disrespect to the parents who adopted me and raised me and loved me and called me their own.
But adding the birth- prefix every time that I mention my birth-parents is tiresome to continue reading. So from here on, patient reader, the parents who adopted me, (the Bailie’s), are identified as my mum and dad. And the parents who fortuitously created me, (Laura and her father-in-law, Billy), are identified as my mother and father. I’m dropping the birth- prefix.
And on this point, (having been adopted), (and having been foster-father to eight children), I think I’m qualified to reinforce the point that being a mother or a father is a world apart from being a mum or a dad.
Most reasonably healthy people have the ability, the gift, to reproduce another human being and become a mother or a father. But being a mum or a dad is something much, much more special.
As a foster-father, I’ve seen the effects of poor parenting; I’ve had to work very hard to help the children of loveless, abusive, and neglectful parents. It takes a whole bunch of unconditional love and a heap of patience to readjust a child, to undo enough of the emotional damage so that they have a reasonable chance of realising their full potential.
There is a world of difference between the ability to be a parent, and the talent to be a good parent; there’s a world of difference between a father and a dad; a world of difference between a mother, and a mum. If I sound annoyed it’s not because I feel that I need to differentiate between my father and mother, and my dad and mum; I’m just upset when I think of some of the abuse that my foster-children suffered at the hand of their own parents. I’m sure that offering me for adoption was a very difficult decision for my parents to make; but it was a decision made in my best interests.
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