A Short Story Long on Meaning

A couple of years ago, while driving home from some weekend trip, I scanned the channels on the radio. The clearest one was a "weekend edition" of some Christian broadcast. Several women were sharing the pain of their decision to abort. They all regreted it and desperately wished that they wouldn't have made the choice that they did.

All of the stories were touching. One story that is very familiar to me, I will share.

In 1969, a fresh faced 18 year old girl was beginning "real life." She had attended a year of college after graduating with honors from her tiny Oklahoma high school. She had been both a star basketball player and a cheerleader. She was well-known for being nice and friendly.

Her first year of college introduced her to new and exciting people. One of them, an older guy pursuing, the perpetual fifth year senior, was from her same small town. He was five years older than she, so they had only known of each other in passing. He asked her out. She said yes. He was older, good-looking, intelligent and most of all, he was getting out of Nowheresville.

She had never intended on staying in that town. She had plans. First, her undergraduate in Political Science. Then her Juris Doctor. Then on to a fabulous law career. She was smart and pretty with milk chocolate brown eyes, a nice smile, and dark brown hair.

They didn't date long, but long enough for her test to come back positive. She was pregnant. And what did girls do who were pregnant outside of marriage in 1969? Beat it to the nearest preacher with man in tow. They got a license and an apartment in the same day. Of course, now that she was married and expecting, she didn't need to continue her schooling. The girl fought that, though, and enrolled in the fall semester. It was early late June and the baby wasn't due until February. She would take winter term off and then re-enroll for the summer. He would help keep baby while she attended classes.

Only, he had a few undisclosed problems that their short courtship hadn't allowed her to see. One day he was on top of the world. His energy was amazing. He would study, go to work, and not sleep, for days. Then, suddenly, it was like he had been hit by a train. She couldn't get him out of bed, or to shower, or leave the apartment. Finally, one day, he looked into those trusting brown eyes and told her to get lost. He didn't really love her and didn't know why he married her in the first place. She was some loose whore and how did he know this was his kid in the first place? "Get out!" he said. So, she left.

Now, she may have been young, but she wasn't stupid. She packed her bags and left. Filing for divorce in July, the lawyer advised her to keep the pregnancy hush-hush. Judges didn't look to favorably on unwed mothers. They signed the papers in August. She had been married and divorced in approximately 10 weeks.

Knocking on her mother's door, she promised to stay only until she could find an apartment. Then she made a quick trip over to the university to change her major. She didn't have time for lofty career pursuits. Nursing was a two year degree. By taking a few missed pre-requisites, she could get into the program and graduate by the time the baby was two.

Baby came quickly that cold February morning. She delivered alone with only the nurse and the doctor. The next day, He showed up; all apologies and promises of doing better. He seemed so sincere. He was so eager and excited to hold the baby and crow over her. "Please, let's try again." His family encouraged the reunion by telling her how he cried over her and his child. Her mother admonished her to do the right thing. So, she relented.

She gave it a year. After 18 months of manic behavior, she moved out. That was it. It was final. She called the enrollment officer at the university and asked if she could try for that Associate's in nursing after all? Her mother sent her a round-trip ticket to come and drop the baby off with her until she finished. It would take six months to complete the course work and clinicals.

When she graduated, had secured a job, and a place to live, she retrieved her daughter. She would give no information to her ex-husband as to her whereabouts. Initially, she tried to allow visits to his mother, but after Grandmother began to be harrassed for more information, that connection was cut, too.

It couldn't have been easy to have been a single mother in the early '70s. But my mother did what needed to be done. She wasn't perfect. She made some very poor choices later on in my childhood. But she gave me life, not a perfect one, but life. Had she made a different decision those many years ago, I know of four people who wouldn't be here now. Four very precious girls who have purpose and determination and character and who thank their grandmother for making a choice that has given them their mother.

I love you, mom, and know that your life has not been an easy one to live. Thank you for not having an abortion, like many of your friends encouraged you to do. Thank you for taking the harder road that has scratched and scarred us both, but in the end has made us stronger for it.

Happy Mother's Day to the mother who chose to be one against many odds.