You Have a Son


A boy. "You have a boy" were the most 4 understated words ever said
to me in my life. Not that they were meant that way, just perceived that way
because I never dreamed how significant having a son could be.

This little hyperactive life saver was born in July in 1971, and at two weeks old
road in the car with me from Colorado where he was born, to California where
this story unfolds.

He was the child I had to guard, having failed miserably at keeping his sister
safe from their father's unsettling return from Viet Nam. My son, I would keep
closer by, in my lap at all possible moments, out of harms way.

He had angel fine blond hair and bright blue eyes and oh how he giggled.
His spirit was always full of joy, but his poor little system was effected in
some way I'm still not sure about that caused him to have as much energy
as a bursting star. It seemed I couldn't get through to him when I talked
for his eyes would wander inside his head that I knew was looking to the
next activity that would occupy his mind and body.

The lights would be flickered of an on so many times that neighbors would
call me up to complain, the doors of the house would open and shut over
and over again, as this young child satisfied his need to either keep moving
his arm or to listen to the slam. I'll never know which. The only times he was
quiet was when he was sick and though one would think I would relish the
peace I only longed for the noisy little boy to return to his normal self so
that I would know he was ok again.

As he went through his school years my worries for him increased one thousand
fold. How could I prepare him for life? How would he ever learn, while his teachers
efforts to keep him in his seat failed? What would become of my boy?

Meanwhile life going on as is often does, trama was coming to our home dressed
in the cloth of divorce. Not a attractive outfit no matter what the reason. I had custody
of both the children for a few years but then their father tried to take them away from me.
Spouting all kinds of statements geared toward discrediting me and making him
appear to be a saint. To think all these things were spoken with the same lips
that use to kiss me.

In round one the children were awarded to their father. This was with out a doubt the
hardest thing I had to face in my life, 4 people realized this, my 2nd husband, my parents
and my son.

During this time that my son was in the "enemy camp" he was told things to try to
sway his affections away from me. This young man, now 9 years old stood his ground
strong and firm for months on end. The sentences that were told to me that he had said
were "that's my mother and that's not true", and "I want to be with my mother". Oh how
glorious the strength that soared through his young and troubled body. Finally, he
was returned to me. Me, a former shell of a woman than once was for it would be
some years before I could recover from my daughters choice to stay with her father.

The doctors had me on anti depressants, my son had me on his hands. His guidance
in and out of days and years on end are what brought me back into the world of
the thinking, feeling, living humans once more. This young child I so desperately worried
about with his hyper activity and his lack of a normal attention span reached into
his short life's resources to be his mothers guide. He came to know me better
than any person ever would or ever could. He had to because it was me he wanted
back. The burden of his mothers sanity was laid on his fragile little shoulders, and he
bore it well.

As his teen years arrived the hyper activity slowly ebbed away and I returned to
my normal self as well. But another trama came along, a second divorce. My son
once again came to my aid as he listened to my broken heart speak to him once more.

Now he was a young man, and I a middle aged woman heading out into life to start
all over again. As I went out into the world to make a living. My son went out into the
world to meet his wife.

He always knew who ever he picked would be ok with me. He always knew I always
wanted most sincerely most deeply to see him happy. That young wife he picked
is now the mother of both his children. He's a great daddy and a loving husband, and
sometimes I think he raised him self, but I know better.

For in the face of our tramas, our instability, our confusion, our madness there was one
tool I always used, a tool that proved to be most handy.

I always, always loved him with all of my heart.