I was born in the dessert, in an adobe. My mother was in labor for 25 hours. Most hospitals won’t let you labor that long. At home, she took baths, received back rubs, took walks, breathed during contractions. A doctor and a nurse were there, coaching her through. My Dad was there too and when he wasn’t watching the world series, he was helping my Mom. He says the day I was born was the best day of his life.
On the day of my parents wedding, my Dad couldn’t speak. He had been a bachelor for 31 years and liked it that way. My Mom had conceived me 3 months after my parents had met at a party. My Dad was there alone because his live in girlfriend was sick. My Mom was there alone because she wanted to get out of the house. Neither of them knew anyone else but the hostess of the party. So they talked and my Dad soon asked his live in girlfriend to pack her things and go.
My aunt says that the only reason my Dad was a good man is because my Mom didn’t pick him. Yes, my Dad is the best, loving and supportive, he adjusted well to the married life. My Mom didn’t. She felt trapped, she wasn’t really in love with her husband. What else could she do? She was only 24, no real skills, no college degree. Pregnant, no money.
They had a hippie wedding. Parents weren’t invited. Just friends. And my Mom’s sister. Food, music, decorations, and ceremony were conducted by friends. There are just a few polaroid pictures from that day and they both look radiant.
After the wedding, they went to Mexico for a few days. Taking a bus down, they didn’t have a return ticket. A man who owned a small sailboat was headed back to the US, and asked if they wanted to help crew it. On their way home, the sailboat was seized in a violent storm. Everyone on that ship felt that they were goners. My Father, who was one of the only people not vomiting, kept radioing for help. Finally, just as everyone had given up hope, a voice comes across the CB. “This is the vessel Faith, hang on, we’re coming to get you.” My parents vowed if they made it safely to shore, they would name me Faith, if I was a boy, Noah.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
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1 comment:
The last party of your story brought tears to my eyes!
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