Where Will This Go

I have no idea where this blog will go, subject wise. But starting out I thinking about the life I have had for the past 58 years without my mother. For I lost her at the age of 20 months in a house fire, along with a brother just a bit older than I, Bobby Dean Davis, and a sister just a bit older than he, Betty Sue Davis.

Three of us survived, my older brother, E. W. Davis, my sister just a bit younger than he, Dixie Jo Davis, and me with the birth name of Gerald Leon Davis.

After this tragic event, my brother E. W. and I found our self in an orphan home 30 days after that great loss, Dixie lived with a family in our home town for about 6 months, them our birth father brought her to the orphan home.

I may explore much of this as I write within my blog day to day. But I have wondered so many times what life would have been like with mother. How it would feel to be held by her, hear her voice say my name, playing with her, just any of the normal things a son would do with his mother.

But I want complain, for God has taken good care of me, after that tragic event and another rough event that hurt me extremely bad, I found myself in a good home, which many youngster is such a situation never have.

I got to grow up calling a man dad, a woman mom, and her mother grandma, and they gave me very much love and took right good care of me, and treated me as their own.

Sometime back a few friend and I were setting at a coffee shop having a conversation about a friend of ours who has an adopted son, and this son had 2 children. He is divorced and had many trouble, one reason is he is slow. But one of the people setting there made the comment, I don't see why Wanda is so concerned about him and his children, after all they share no blood relations, so she can not love him as a true son, nor can she love those children as true grandchildren, why does she even have anything to do with them?

I was shocked to hear this friend make this comment, I did quickly inform them that I have some experience in this matter, I loved the man and woman I called mom and dad with all my heart, that love was returned to me by them, they made many sacrifices thru the years for me, I know they would not have made these sacrifices in life which they did, if there had been no love.

Anyway the conversation went on, but this person never would say, that a mother or father could loved an adopted son as they would a true son. Their opinion is, without a blood connection, there just cannot be real love.

Thinking back on 58 year, the woman I called mother having died in January 1991, the man I called father having died in December 1992, all the love we ever had for one another was true love, and I think it was proved day in and day out all the days that God shared these 2 people with me.

Of course, as I said at the start, I do not know how it would feel
to be held by my birth mother, hear her voice say my name, playing with her, just any of the normal things a son would do with his mother, it could not have been no different than what the woman I called mom expressed towards me many times, over and over again, it is that the woman I called mom had a different personality than my birth mother, and love me with all of her heart.

And I think in my heart, my birth mother, Elizabeth Carter Davis, would have been proud that this woman I called mother expressed so much love towards, when I was sick comforted me in her arms, when I needed advice would freely give it to me, when I needed correction she would correct me, shared many happy moments together, and hugged me with love when I was in need of love being expressed towards me. But even with all of that, I can not help but wonder what it would feel like to have grown up knowing my birth mothers love.

May the Lord Bless,
Jerry