Mama and my name

My name is Mud
Many of you have asked about my mother. I have to say that I don't know. She has written me off as an unworthy daughter.

Having been raised in the United States I grew up with ideas of individual freedoms rather than the ideas of duty to parental ideology. You can imagine the clashes that caused with Mama. The final straws have been my changing my name to one I can be happy with and with my boarding my goats rather than selling them.

The Name Change(s)
I was given a beautiful Japanese name when I was born. It evokes images of Springtime and blossoms. It makes me feel beautiful and graceful and serene. I was put up for adoption when I was six months old and ended up in the home of a Japanese woman and her American serviceman husband. I was unofficially called by a new English name until I became a naturalized American citizen at age six when my name was legally changed to the new name. (Apparently, Japanese law stated that I had to keep the Japanese name when the family adopted me.) I ALWAYS hated the new name. Perhaps there was a memory of the original name floating around in the back of my mind but I found the new name harsh and ugly. That feeling was solidified when everyone I met that had my new name was either fat, or dumb, or cow-like, or ugly. It made me wonder if my parents even liked me.

I always wondered if I was adopted since I didn't look like anyone in my family. I asked my mother once and she responded with anger, informing me that I was NEVER to ask that question again. I found out the truth while looking for my birth certificate and finding my adoption papers instead. My mother's response was a tearful plea for understanding - she wanted me to feel like a real member of the family. However, she hadn't taken into account other Japanese family members never treating me like a real part of the family. I could never understand why my younger sister was treated like a princess while I was the red-headed stepchild. Even Mama treated me like that. Perhaps it was the time, perhaps it is an Asian custom, but I don't remember Mama ever praising me for anything I did well, there was only criticism for things that needed improving. That custom has continued to this day.

After discovering my adoption and the name I had been born with, I changed my middle name to the original name. It resonated with me and I felt like I was carrying happiness around with me everywhere. I never bothered to tell my mother about that name change.

After marrying and divorcing several times I decided to simply change my name back to the original name. I have to wait until I have enough money to more than cover the basics before I can do that.

However, while I was taking Mama around to her doctor's appointments, she would introduce me and I'd ask to be called by the Japanese name. This made Mama more and more disgruntled. She finally demanded that I stop using that name. I tried to explain how I felt about the two names. She agreed that the Japanese name is beautiful but went on to say that she had given me the new name and that was the name I should use. My rejecting the new name means that I am rejecting her personally. She feels that my using the Japanese name means that I am choosing my birth family over her (and for the record, my birth mother doesn't want anything to do with me either - she told me that herself over the phone when I was 26 and had finally located her.) I find it ironic that Mama insists on my English name even though she has never been able to properly pronounce it. None the less, she views everything I do as a personal reflection of her. Therefore, she rejects me.

The Goats
Mama raises Yorkshire Terrier show dogs. She loves them more than her own children (she has said that in my presence on several occasions.) I view them as cute, useless, expensive, yappy, did I say useless, pieces of fluff. I raise Nubian dairy goats. I love my "girls" - they are smart, affectionate, hard-working ladies that provide creamy, delicious milk that I use for drinking, cooking, cheese-making, and for making soap. Mama views them as an unnecessary expense. Admittedly, their board (they are still in southern Arizona) is an expense that I can hardly afford, but I worked hard to buy and raise them, they have champion milk lines, and I want to have them in my possession again. Mama views that as ridiculous, a show of my utter stupidity, profligacy, and lack of common sense. Therefore, she rejects me.

Today's conversation with my mother resulted in her telling me that she is disgusted with me and that she doesn't want to have anything to do with me. I responded with if she ever wants to have a relationship with her oldest daughter again to please call me.

She has finished radiation. She doesn't know what will happen next.

And that is that.