Many years ago, I had many discussions with a first-mother who lost her son, first through adoption, then later to suicide.
Our phone conversations were especially hard because I could hear the sob in her voice. Her voice sounded like that of a child... yet her words written on adoption forums read like she was a very well-informed profoundly strong woman. Like me, (at the time), she was a warrior in words, but a weepy child in private.
The Duplessis orphans (French: les Orphelins de Duplessis) is the name given to thousands of orphans who had been improperly diagnosed as mentally incompetent by the government of Quebec, Canada and confined to psychiatric institutions under the Duplessis government.
Looking at me, I am a walking contradiction. I am soft and sweet but tasteless and crude; I am smart and funny but stubborn and really obtuse. I am traditional... yet I really hate tradition.
As a parent, I know there is no crazier time in the year than the selling of Santa and Jesus and good holiday cheer. Yet, that's exactly how I need it to be in my life, because growing up, I worked my ass-off all year long hoping the Big Guy wearing a red suit would not forget me.