Happy Father’s Day
I’m not quite sure why everything has hit me as hard, as it has today. I don’t really miss my father. I do think of him, but it always more of a curiosity. A wonder about who he was and what he thought.
We all come to be who we are through our fathers.
~ that’s what THEY say.
That being said, I will always miss my mother.
My life unravels when my ball of twine looses its momentum and begins to roll backward. Everything comes undone. It knots and kinks but it won’t stop spinning. It’s just a big mess.
I know this is spawned by all of the abortion comments on facebook and everywhere else I go. They always make me think of Justin. My son, that I did not abort.
I was a young unwed mother in 1972, when it was not a common thing. I chose to have my son. I was seventeen.
How I came to be an unwed mother was more than sex. It was a life of pain. It was confusion and wanting someone to love me. It was a million thoughts and plans and dreams. Maya.
Justin died at six weeks old. I cried.
Three years later I had my daughter. I was married to her father. I will never forget how I was treated differently by people. Especially, my hospital stay. The nurses in the hospital were nice to me; they smiled and were all chipper and happy. That was not the case when Justin had been born.
I cried for twenty years.
Happy Father’s Day.
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