Zenitude #38: She Was 16 -- She's My Mother

So I’m the proud daughter of a young mom. A really young mom. I’m 48. She’s 64 (that’s 16 years apart). She could just as easily be my sister (and I love and adore my sister). But she’s not. And I would never want her to be. Here’s why.

Her selfless devotion. Her courage. For me. For herself. As you read further, take a breath to understand this writing bares not only my soul, but that of my mother’s.

It was 1966. She was 16 years old and I was barely 6 weeks living inside of her when she discovered me (“holy sh*t I have a tiny creature living inside me!”). Ummmm….obviously, I was completely unexpected. Of course she KNEW about sex, but only the “glamorous” side of sex. And she didn’t know enough about birth control. (Many years later, she started referring to me as her Immaculate Conception.) So here she was pregnant. How? THIS wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not at 16.

Her tissue was now all intertwined with some baby daddy (who still remains nameless and faceless – but whoever it was, it’s probably why I hate Bob Dylan or love shoes), and there was a second heartbeat inside of her. As life froze for my mother, I was joyously starting life completely oblivious of all things outside – except I loved Dairy Queen dip cones and made her crave them so that I could enjoy them. (I still love DQ dip cones). In my momma’s mind, there was nothing but uncertainty and fear: “A baby? But this changes EVERYTHING I dreamed of being. Everything I wanted to do in life. This changes my world. What kind of mother can I be at 16?” This ominous life-changing choice stood before her like the depths of the Grand Canyon. She could jump or she could sail (with me all fa-la-la-la-la strapped to her like a papoose).

Now before you go and start judging me and thinking that I’m either pro-choice, anti-anything or that you can put me in a box – stop. Just stop. You can’t. Because I can’t even do that with myself. All I know is MY experience. I have NO rights to say anything about anyone else – this situation was between my 16-year-old scared as hell child-woman mother and me.

Close your eyes and imagine when you were 16. What were you doing? What was life like for you? Maybe you were in a situation just like my mom. Or, maybe life was completely carefree and you had everything you needed. You wanted for nothing. Maybe you were as bitter as sh*t. Maybe you’ve blocked teen years out of your life because it was so bad. Wherever you were, open your eyes and you now have a tiny baby in your arms – looking to you for safety and care. A life that is completely dependent upon you – and you can’t even depend upon yourself. You’re 16.

Let’s fast forward through the abortion clinic (she went there – that evidently didn’t work, therefore, surprise! I’m here). I was born on August 11, 1967. Things were different in 1967. My mother lived without ever receiving any child support or financial aid. She worked and we lived. She sailed. And here we are 48 years later. My mother’s daughter. I happen to think that it was a pretty good decision that I’m still here. But, that’s just me. I love to hear my mother describe the feeling when she knew I belonged to her, “It was life changing and also a spiritual transformation. When I laid you down for the first time in your crib beside my bed (tummy-side down with your little butt sticking up), I thought, as most mothers do, but at the time I felt, I was The Mother of the Universe. Here is a human being I produced! You kept me safe (I missed Woodstock) and you still do.”

Life throws us some really crazy sh*t. That’s life. Why choose to continuously look back, want to change things or wish things were different? They aren’t. All we have is this moment. The here. The now. We have the power to stop our “rewind” thinking and to rise above the unhealthy crap that is thrown in our path. We can get it together. Life can be really f**cked up and can be messy and sad and awful. It can also be crazy fun. I choose to live in the moment with my occasional days of depression, but also love that I’m alive to be crazy fun without limits.

Without a doubt, on November 16th, I am beyond excited to celebrate the 65th birthday of the woman who chose to change her life because of me. Yountville, California here we come! Wine country, fine food, hot air balloon ride, spa days and a celebration of life! Her life, my life and the life she gave to three other beautiful children.

Zenitude for today:

Sh*t happens. And then life happens. Repeat.

P.S. We are atoms of autonomy. Barriers are our own. When we open ourselves up to exploration, we discover that which is hidden inside of ourselves. The vastness is then ours to embrace. ~Quote by Christi MacNee

(Picture shown: Poem written by my mother when I was a few months old. My mom: 17 years old; Me: 5 months old)