Out of Colorado

Mom was the perfect match for my dad. They had a love that ran deep. She was the yin to his yang and made family life stable for me. It wasn't always so. They had their challenges before I came along. They could have given up and gone their own ways, but that wasn't who they were. Their story is the perfect example of how choice can affect eventual happiness.

My mother was orphaned at the age of 5. She had a younger brother and after the death of their father, they went to stay with their maternal grandmother who already had half a dozen kids still at home with her. They were poor, but they made room in their home and hearts for these two children. Then came a paternal aunt who couldn't or didn't want a child of her own, but decided she wanted to adopt Mom. So she and her husband filed petition for custody of her. There was a court battle and they won. They had a lot more money, and so my mother was separated from her brother. She didn't see him again until after they were grown and had families of their own.

Life was not easy for her, even though her new father was a prominent lawyer. They lived on a farm in Ouray, Colorado. The aunt kept a little black book and recorded every penny she spent on this new child. Then when they were arguing, that little black book came out and became a part of the guilt trip, pointing out how Mom should be grateful that they took her in. Mother, being the Scorpio she was, finally had enough, knocked the book away from her nose and said, "I don't owe you anything except my love." She said she never saw the book again. However, there were many times she would come home from school to find herself locked out of the house and her trunk packed and waiting for her on the front porch. She knew then her aunt was mad at her. Then, there was the verbal abuse that she wasn't worth "...a piece of shit" that the only thing pretty about her was her hair. The first thing Mom did when she moved out on her own was to cut her hair, probably in part out of defiance.

After high school graduation she entered nurses training at Mercy Hospital in Denver. The nuns took her under their wing and she said it was the first time she felt like she had a home -- I think it was also the first time she felt like someone valued and loved her.

With this background growing up, I think she had a choice. She could become angry and bitter at the abuse she suffered, or she could move on and learn from what she experienced. She chose to move on. She did what many forget to do when they become adults: don't repeat the wrongs done to you. When those hard times came in her marriage, she was prepared to persevere, keeping in mind that love and family for her was everything, and with a little work and understanding of what was happening, things could be worked out. She was a very wise woman.

I made my appearance late in their lives, and they had worked out all those kinks by then. They went through the depression, the near death of my father followed by his severe depression from survivor's guilt, the constant moving around the country, the war and separation. Their marriage survived and their bond became ever stronger because they didn't give up and because I don't think they trumped their individual concerns and pain over the other's.

I remember as a little girl that on weekends, they often stayed in bed later than normal and just cuddled and talked. I often joined them. It was an intimate family time of laughter. I also often heard them talking about me or some other issue one or both were concerned about and made decisions together. For a kid, that unity was my stability. These are lessons I learned growing up how to be in a relationship. Though my husband and I haven't had near the number of challenges they had, those lessons have paid off, saving my marriage.