“I can’t wait until my mother dies. Then I’m training in my DNA. I’m going to tell everyone that I was adopted and never had children.” My mother shouted angrily over and over on our trip to Denver.
She doesn’t just wish if vanish. She wishes I’d never existed. She wishes that she could unwind her genetic composition from mine.
When my dad died, our entire relationship with his side of the family died too. And my mother hated me enough to pretend I don’t even exist.