I spent part of my childhood praying that one day I would find out that the incredible Lena Horne was my birth mother. Once I got my non-identifying information from the state of Indiana, I was able to rule that possibility out as my birth mother was about 20 years younger than Ms. Horne. But that didn't stop me from praying that a miracle would occur and Lena Horne would come bursting through my front door and declare her undying love for me and beg for my forgiveness for abandoning me.
Lena Horne once said "After I got over the terrible pain of having something of mine taken from me, I began to think how bad everybody else must be feeling. It wasn't a nice time." When I read that statement, I just knew she was talking about me. Maybe I was taken from her. Maybe she lost me through no fault of her own. She gave me hope that my birth mother would find me some day, some way, some how.
As we just celebrated Mother's Day, I grieved for the 2 mothers I had lost; my birth mom and my adoptive mother. And upon waking Monday morning, I found out that I had lost my 3rd mother, my pretend mother. R.I.P. Lena Horne. You still give me hope, the hope that I'm just a Sleigh ride from finding myself.
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