A Cow is a Cow 5/15/15
Forward
“When were you told that you were adopted?” people would ask.
“I‘ve known that I was adopted as long as I’ve know that a cow is a cow.”
That was always my answer. I learned of it from the beginning, as naturally as learning words, or that my mother was “Mother” and my daddy was “Daddy”.
I think it should be that way. I was led to believe that I was special, not just because I was “chosen” but because I was treated as if I were precious. I never doubted that I was loved. Nor that I was “okay.”
At least, not until later.
