I’m tired of this. I can’t take it anymore.
I’m tired of receiving letter after letter of lies, all lies.
I’m tired of promises, that I know will never be fulfilled.
I don’t want anymore presents, filled with guilt.

I can’t stand anymore empty, ‘I love yous’ just scribbled on letter after letter.
I can’t take it,  I just can’t stand my life anymore.
I need more reality. I need the real things like a kiss goodnight on the cheek, an ‘ I love
you’ that is for once actually meant.
I need,
I need to see my mother.

It’s been thirteen years. I don’t even remember her, like a mother that is.  I mean I see her
face everywhere, discluding the pictures. But I know that’s all fake.

‘It’s just for a little while’ she would write. ‘I’ll come and get you as soon as it’s over.’
Yeah well it’s been over for five years now. For five long years she could have came, to
see her daughter. I don’t think she wants to really, I don’t even think she loves me.

I have tried to love my mother, but it’s kind of hard when I’ve never met her before
besides when I was born.  I often wonder if she has told anyone else about me, or if I’m
just her little secret. I’d rather not be, I’d rather be exposed to the world. It feels as if
she’s almost embarrassed of me, shunning me away from the world. I want her to be
proud of me, bringing me with her everywhere.

I’ve always lived with my real father. He has been great with all of this hassle. When I
get frustrated or disappointed with mom, he goes way over board and freaks out at her
through a letter of his own which he sends along with mine. My dad in my opinion has
done a great job in raising me, I turned out pretty well. 

I guess you’re wondering what happened to leave me in this position.
 Well it started about  fifteen years ago. Mom met Dad through her friends. It was just
supposed to be a blind date but ended up being that they fell in love at first site.  They
were planning on getting married and all, but nothing had become official. 
 Months past and after living together they found out they couldn’t stand each other any
longer. 
My dad said it was like one off those relationships where opposites attract.
 When they broke up mom had been pregnant with me for six months. She never even
knew it though. She was going through a lot of stress at the time and didn’t notice
anything. I’ve seen pictures of her at eight months she wasn’t even showing. When she
went into labor she thought that she had the stomach flu. Hours before she kept
complaining that she had sharp back pains.  
I was born when my mom was 23 years old, but to everyone else18. She lied about her
age to dad, because he was really two years younger than her. She still lies about her age.
I mean right now, her real age is 36, but to the rest of the world she is 31.

My mom had lots of trouble having me. I mean she was so small and plus I was in her
backwards and facing the wrong way. They had to numb her and do a ‘sea section’ to get
me out. The must have over drugged her because she was out cold for eighteen hours.
When she woke up I was there and dad was there too. He was the first to hold me besides
the doctor. Mom finally got to hold me in the hospital nursery. Dad was mad at her that
she hadn’t told him that she was carrying his child. She swore to him she had no clue, but
to this day he doesn’t believe her. Mom was really scared because she didn’t have
enough money to take care of a baby. She could barely take care of herself with what
little money she had. 
Before I was born, mom was one of the five lucky people excepted for an excellent job,
and she told the manager she would think about it. Mom knew that she would be
discluded from the list if the manager found out that she had a kid, so she was just going
to get enough money to raise me and all. Dad had agreed I could live with him until the
she was ready. But when I was only six months old Dad got a great job offer in America.
It wasn’t something he could just give up, so he took the job and me with him.   


And that’s where I am now, 12 and a half years later the year 2003 living in America
with my father. My mother writes me at least once a week if she isn’t too busy. Once, on
my tenth birthday I actually got to talk to her on the phone. Even though it was just for a
minute, that was enough to satisfy me.

But today is going to be different. Mom is coming to our city to do some promotional
stuff for her job. I know she won’t come to my house to see me. Mom would probably
rather die then suffer from all the guilt of her past. She would be too scared. But I’m not
scared, I’m going to go downtown and see her, for the first time in thirteen years.


It was taking place in an auditorium  sort of thing with tons of people and other kids so I
fit right in. Dad never knew I was there, I told him I went shopping with my friends.
Mom was going to go on stage and say a sort off speech and then answer some audience
questions. I was going to make sure she picked me, I had my question all ready and was
not nervous at all about saying it.
After the wonderful thirty minute speech was over the room roared with cheers and all
and mom smiled and stood the with perfect posture. When the room became silent again
it was time for audience questions. I raised my hand every time so far but wasn’t picked.

“I’ve got time to answer just one more” she announced boldly. As hands raised her eyes
searched the room. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that she would pick me.  With my
arm outstretched and me practically on my tiptoes, I was seconds away from tipping over.

“The young lady in the back.” she started “With the green shirt.” I opened my eyes only
to be staring right at my green shirt.  This was it, this was the year, the month, the day.
This was the exact moment that I have been dreaming of all my life. 
I swallowed to clear my throwt and mom smiled at me not knowing who I really was.
The room grew silent as I opened my mouth to speak.

“Do you..” I started, stopping at how surprisingly shaky my voice actually was. I started
up again. She was looking right at me now.

“Do you remember me?”    

Mom didn’t say anything. At first a puzzled expression crossed her face. Then it totally
changed. She just stared. Even though I was at the very back of the auditorium I could
see what she was thinking, I could feel it. It felt like hours of silence had passed through
my life right then and there, when it was really only seconds. It was like she was frozen
in the spot, her jaw looking like it was about to gape open any second but she was
looking at me, her own daughter and this time, she knew it.

Mom stepped away from the microphone and off the stage and began walking towards
me. Her expression still stay frozen with surprise and disbelief.  She was only two feet in
front of me when she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Oh my god..........” she said very softly her voice muffled because her hand covered her
mouth. But I could still hear what she said, perfectly. I could see her eyes becoming
watery.

“Karen........” 

She remembered. She knew.  She was actually talking to me, in person. Mom took a step
closer, now practically touching me. I could feel my grin growing.

“Yes honey, I do.... I  remember you .....” Before she could even finish her sentence we
were embraced in a hug. I felt as if I was being reborn again. Touching my mother for the
first time sent warm currents through my body. Both of us were crying I could hear and
feel her short quiet sobs against my shoulder.  I’m sure she felt the same way because I
couldn’t stop my own tears. The room began to fill with whispers.

“I didn’t think you would.” I whispered in between sobs so only she could hear me. “I
never knew you still cared.” This statement seemed to simmer her down a bit.  She pulled
her head off my shoulder, still holding me around the waist and looked me strait in the
eye. 

“Of course I still care about you...... you’re my daughter Karen....... I love you.”
  I’ve heard it. My goal had been accomplished, my dreams had come true. My mother
really loved me. And she had said it with pure love she really did mean it. 

“I love you too mom.”  I replied. I smile quickly spread across her face and she bit her
bottom lip to stop from crying again. A look of determination suddenly filled her face.
She let go of my waist took a step back and held out her hand. I placed mine in hers and
together we walked up to the front and on stage. I knew what mom was going to do, and I
was so happy I was still crying. We climbed up on stage and Mom wiped a tear off my
face. She stepped up to the microphone.

“Hello once again Los Angeles, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter.”

The room was filled with silence only for a second, when the audience cheered so loud I
could bearly hear myself think.
 Mom kissed me on the forehead, and we embrassed in a hug once again. 
Normally this thing would have embarrassed me to death, but not today. 
Not the day I finally met my mother, 
Geraldine Halliwell.