My life, in bits, Part I

Until I was about five, I lived with my biological parents, both of them.  About that time, my parents divorced, and my little sister, my mother and I moved around a lot in Colorado and Texas. 


When I was eight, I was picked up after school and taken to the airport and my little sister and I were put on a plane.  With a few exceptions during the custody case, we did not see our mother again until I was fifteen.  Beginning from that point, my relationship with my mother was fragile and uncertain, with neither of us knowing whether to be friends or peers or mother and daughter.  Though we were friendly and loved each other, we never did figure that out.  I know that until the day she died, she had unresolved feelings about the way we were taken from her and "never came back."