Funny how life has a way of happening according to some other plan. I met Jack, my first husband, about a year and a half later when we were working together at the local Woolworth's and were married within a short time. A couple of months after the wedding we were watching TV when a commercial came on showing breakfast sausage frying in a skillet. All of a sudden I felt sick in my stomach. I found out shortly later that I was pregnant. Unfortunately I wasn't able to make it past six months before I miscarried. We weren't able to have any children and Jack had a fatal heart attack a little more that five years after we were married. If I had waited until I was thirty I would have missed out on time with this special guy.
The following summer, I went on vacation to Canada with a group from my Mom's church. One day in Quebec was sunny and warm and it seemed a lot of guys were walking around in little more than cutoff jeans and work boots..Being only twenty-seven and starting to come back to life after months of grieving, I looked around the local pharmacy for some kind of contraceptive, but didn't find anything. I met a handsome young man vacationing from Evian, France and we enjoyed each other's company that evening and into the night. I came home pregnant and again was not able to complete the pregnancy.
I was more careful after that and stayed single, dated and avoided pregnancy for the next ten years or so. Around the time I was in my mid thirties, I was dating a younger guy and though I knew that we weren't ever going to get married, I thought that this might be my last chance at having a baby before I got to be too old. I did become pregnant and that kind of ended our relationship because, this time, he was the one not ready to be a parent. A couple months later I miscarried again.
It seemed I blew my chance to be a Mom when I was nineteen and after grieving that part of my life, I was able to accept that I was childless and move on. Again, life had other plans.
I was in my early forties when I met Joe, who would in time become my second husband. We were both cautious about starting a new relationship, yet felt it would be worthwhile, and took our time allowing it to grow. He told me on our first date that he had a son, but they were estranged and he was trying to reestablish their relationship. They began to have visits for short periods of time and eventually I met Sean.
Around this time, Joe had a roommate who worked at the local shopping mall. Denis would sometimes bring home merchandise that was usable but was meant for the trash because it was scratched or the box was damaged. One day Joe presented me with a pretty trinket box that about broke my heart, On the cover of the box was a picture of a seated woman with a child kneeling next to her. I guess I hadn't yet shared with him about my failure to become a Mom, so he couldn't have known the hurt that gift would cause. Again, not my plan at work!
About two years after I first met Sean and a year after Joe and I got married Sean came to live with us after his Mom died. For a while I was Dad's new wife, I was the step-mom. There was a period when he wouldn't address me - he would walk up to where I was standing and start talking to me- and I could understand that it must have been incredibly hard for him. I on the other hand had no experience as a parent and was suddenly responsible to co-parent a sullen, angry thirteen year old boy. Nope, I was not feeling any warm and fuzzy Mom moments yet.
The first time Sean actually called me "Mom" was when he had a friend over after school and they were up in his room. Instead of coming downstairs and out to the kitchen where I was, he yelled out "Hey Mom, do you know where my blue shirt (or whatever he was looking for) is?" So maybe it was just a matter of convenience rather than any affection that he first called me Mom, but I do remember a break in the ice.
Joe was still the primary parent and they still had a lot of healing to do, so I allowed things to unfold at a slow pace. I helped with the math homework, rides to dances and games, and later on with driving lessons. I was working full time and Joe was at home so he did the cooking. He made sure we sat down to dinner as a family most nights and took time for a quick prayer before we ate. We celebrated birthdays and holidays and vacations as family. In time it was clear that we were family, the three of us, with Joe as the center. the glue. the music of our life. When Sean was 14 1/2, I formally adopted him, with his consent. This way if anything happened to Joe, Sean would always know that he belonged.
Sean left school before graduation, moved out and back a couple of times and always Joe was the one that was there for him. About the time Sean was twenty-two and getting ready to move out on his own, Joe was diagnosed with cancer and needed chemo and radiation. Usually Joe was able to get himself to and from treatments, but sometimes Sean would drive him or go with him. After a year and a half, Joe was taken down by pneumonia and a stroke on top of the cancer. During the ten days that he was in the hospital on a ventilator, and I was there as much as I could, Sean would come and sit with us or bring me dinner. Joe fought hard, but in the end we lost him. Sean and I planned the funeral together and got through that time together.
Then we we learned to be a family without Joe there to hold us together. I remember the night when Sean came home from work and told me he got a new car. It took me a little while to realize that he and his Dad would have been out the door looking it over and talking and telling stories. So I got my shoes on and went out to look over the new car and let Sean tell me about what he liked about this one and what else he looked at.
Eventually he did move out on his own, - across town, over to New Jersey, back down the street and even to southern California. We kept in touch, but I felt he was living his independent life and didn't need to talk to Mom as much. When he was in San Diego, he went through a rough time and I flew out for a couple of days. It was good to sit and talk with him about the old days and remind him he'd been through tough times before and gotten through them. It was right that I should be there as Mom, as family. The following year He decided to move back East and I offered to fly out and drive back with him. He managed to get back alone in one piece, driving through a week of pouring rain.
We spent a year and a half at the family home together while he was getting back on his feet and I was getting ready to sell the condo and downsize to an apartment. We sat at the same table saying a prayer before dinner a lot of nights, we've celebrated birthdays and holidays together, and I always try to remember how it was when the three of us were together. I certainly would not or could not have planned this path to motherhood, But I am so grateful to call Sean my son, and to hear him call me Mom. I am very grateful that God gave me Joe and that Joe made us a family.
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