Especially to Jessie and Marie, I offer this:
They have written me out of their lives. For some degree of closure, I have lain them to rest. It tore my heart from me to do this, but I felt it necessary to preserve my sanity. They can now have their world without me, I will keep a memorial to attempt to fill the void.
The first section of my post describes my feeling that their souls died long ago; when, I'm not sure. As I search my memory, it must have happened before they adopted me; I wonder if it happened when my mother had the emergency hysterectomy. There are stories that describe them as decent and honorable people; if they once were, I never knew them that way. But I think again, and wonder if, in my father's case, that description isn't entirely accurate; I can remember a very few times when he was honorable, even good, but never while my mother was around. I will treasure those moments with him for the rest of my own life.
They want me to begone. I will comply, but please allow me to set a stone in memory, or perhaps a desire for what never was or could be.