A Mothers Legacy to Her Children

In 1971, at the age of 17, I was married. A high school junior at the time, I met a sailor who somehow convinced me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making me happy. Nothing could have ever been farther from the truth. That marriage produced two beautiful children, a boy and a girl, who along with myself endured many acts of violence and abuse during the 5 years that the union lasted. In 1976, I found myself packing my children in the car along with a few belongings and running to save my sanity and our lives. In the years following, I married again, had a third child, another beautiful little girl. The second time around was somewhat better and much safer than the first. But, even so, eventually that marriage was destined to end also.

As a mother, I have a monopoly on guilt. I own it outright, lock, stock and barrel. If you were to look up the word, "guilt" in the dictionary, you would probably see my photo right next to it. I carry guilt for every thing that has ever gone wrong in my children's lives, no matter how far removed I may be from it. For years, I have lived in a world of would have, should have, could have and what ifs. There have been so many things, I couldn't begin to list them here. I have blamed myself for every shortfall in their lives and wondered over and over what I could have and should have done to prevent them ever having felt any pain, emotional or physical. I have fought many battles with boyfriends and husbands, (mine and theirs) over my children. Men much larger than myself have been threatened with bodily harm that there is no way I could have inflicted. I am, at times the proverbial Pekingese butt behind the Bulldog mouth. I have dispensed more advice (a lot of it unwanted and unasked for) than Dr. Phil. Sometimes, I feel as though I have run more rescue missions than a Navy Seal. I have delivered food, diapers, milk, and babysat children, dogs and ferrets. We have had many ups and downs on this carousel we call life.

Not only am I responsible for the very happiness or lack there of in my children's lives, I now have grandchildren and I feel a great deal of responsibility for making sure that they too, have a safety net when they need one. They, just like their parents, have faced some very difficult times in their lives and I feel a great deal of sadness and guilt for not being able to make life be at least more tolerable, if it can't be perfect. Unfortunately it is not a perfect world we live in. I am sure there are times when I have stepped beyond the bounds of parental responsibility. There are also times when I have let my heart overrule my head and spoke or acted before thinking things over carefully first and gathering all of the facts. Most times my heart reacts before my brain gets totally on board. I just hope that the times when I may have exacerbated drama when maybe I should have left well enough alone will be forgiven sometime before I die. I love them all and nothing would make me happier if every cloud in their lives really did have a silver lining.

A few days ago, I was riding home through the country around dusk and I came upon a deer lying beside of the road. He looked as though he had bedded down there for the night. His head was up and he was looking around, so I slowed down, not wanting to startle him and make him run into the path of my car. Strangely enough, when I passed within feet of him, he just watched the car go by, not even bothering to get up. I knew that something had to be wrong, so I turned the car around and pulled up behind him. Leaving the headlights on, I got out and approached him very carefully. When I got close enough, I could see that his leg was badly broken, even though he had it tucked underneath him. Even worse, he had blood dripping from his mouth. He stood up twice, trying to walk and each time the leg collapsed under him and he laid back down.

He was a young buck with tiny antler buds, just beginning to show. Getting back in the car, I tried to figure out what to do. I have a brother who is a wildlife rehabilitation specialist, so the first thing I did was try to call him. Unfortunately he was out of town. And even if he had been home, I knew that there was really only one thing that could be done for the deer and I was not the one to do it. Finally I tried calling the highway patrol and two officers came out to see what they could do. After looking at the young buck, we all stood around it, knowing what the outcome would be. I thanked them for coming out and apologized for having to hand the deed to them.

Taking one last look at the injured deer, I saw my children and my grandchildren in his frightened eyes. His life had barely begun and he was in pain, frightened and alone, the same way I knew they had all felt many times in their lives. I heard one of the troopers softly say, "Don't worry little fella, it will be alright." I knew it wouldn't be alright, except that soon he would no longer be in pain. "I'm sorry, little buck." I thought in a silent whisper, "As much as I wish I could, there are some things I just can't fix." Knowing I can't fix everything will never stop me from trying, but I also know that my children and my grandchildren have one advantage the little deer did not. They are survivors and I thank God for that.