LUGGAGE Lady

Contemplations about Life, Love, & the Pursuit of Meaningful Existence…

Archive for the category “Motherhood”

The Price of Bypassing Motherhood

Bypassing-Motherhood-Luggage-Lady

“You chose not to have children?”

“So…you don’t like kids?”

“What do you talk to your husband about?”

“Is there something wrong with you physically?”

“Being a parent requires an enormous heart — not everyone’s cut out for it.”

“What on earth do you do with all your free time?”

“I used to be selfish too — then I became a mom.”

“You’ll change your mind.”

“I can’t imagine worrying only about myself.”

“You’ll never look at the world the same again.”

“What a lavish lifestyle you must lead with all the money you’re saving.”

“Who’s going to take care of you when you’re old?”

“I can’t fathom missing out on a child’s unconditional love.”

“My children are my — everything.”

“Maybe it’s the mother in me, but I care more about our planet than ever before.”

“You don’t know true love until you hold a child in your arms.”

“I never knew I could love something this much!”

“Do you have nieces, nephews — a pet at least??”

“You wouldn’t understand — you’re not a parent.”

⚓️

It’s true

I chose to bypass motherhood

Or maybe it was fate

Either way

I’m extremely well versed in what some believe I’m missing

And yet

The undistracted affection I’m able to give my soulmate

(a man who grew up motherless and fearful he’d never find genuine, lasting love)

Feels good and right and true

Like I’m pointed in the precise direction I was meant to go all along…

But going against the norm makes me an anomaly

Or — more truthfully — a permanent outsider

Swiftly discounted for failing to follow life’s greater purpose

My choice sparks conflicting emotions

Pity, concern, envy

Conclusions drawn in hushed whispers

(the poor, unfulfilled, self-centered prima donna — is she really taking another vacation?)

💔

Whether spun of carefully weighed risks

Or faith-laden leaps

We all weave unpredictable tales

If your journey has brought more than the occasional misstep

Perhaps a blindsiding detour or two

Stay strong

You may feel as if you’re traversing a deserted road

One you never imagined you’d be navigating

But others have survived these challenging curves

Growing more resilient around each bend

Breathe deeply

You’re not alone

I see your light

Can you see mine? 💕

positive-people

 

Advertisements

When Parents Opt Out

Precious times two

“They say that abandonment is a wound that never heals. I say only that an abandoned child never forgets.” ~ Mario Balotelli

💔

Working the last few flights of a three-day trip, I’m organizing the back galley when two little girls, I’m guessing to be around seven and four, come back to say hello.

“Are you our flight attendant?” the older one asks.

“I am.” I smile, a stack of napkins slipping from my fingers.

They rush over. “It’s okay, sweethearts. Don’t touch the dirty floor.”

Too late. They’ve already scooped them up, proudly dropping them in the trash.

“You look really pretty,” the younger girl says.

“So do you,” I say. “I love your shirt. Pink is my favorite color.”

She giggles. “Mine too, but this is actually my pajama top.”

“Well, it’s perfect — and it matches your shoes.”

She beams.

“Where are you going?” (I’m thinking Disneyland based upon our destination.)

“California,” the older girl says.

“Southern?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you getting off at the first or second stop?”

“The next one.”

“Then you’re going to southern.”

“Okay. ” She shrugs. “That’s beautiful.” She gently taps my bracelet.

“Just like both of you.”

They blush in unison, and I follow them to their seats, eager to compliment the folks responsible for raising such charming children.

“Are these your daughters?” I ask the woman they quietly slide past.

She purses her lips. “Oh, no.  I’m just escorting them to a new home. They’re foster kids, and I’m their case worker.”

My lungs lock. “Well, they’re adorable,” I choke out the words.

Her eyes dart in their direction. “Yes, I suppose so.”

I flee to my galley, tears of disbelief pooling. They should be going to Disneyland — NOT a “new” home!!!! What happened to their parents? Why are these precious dolls floating around the system? And what if things don’t work out this time? Should I call my husband and tell him I’m bringing home two angels to shower with love — and anything else they’ve spent their tender years going without?? I write down my name and number to give the social worker.

But my head interjects, giving my heart a run for its money: This is none of my concern. Who am I to interfere? I probably wouldn’t even qualify as a legal guardian — I’ve never parented anybody!

And so…

I do nothing but serve them drinks and peanuts, all the while marveling at their sweet demeanor and impeccable manners.

An hour later they wave goodbye, sparkly-eyed and grinning. They seem so happy so — well-adjusted.

They’ll be fine.

I tell myself

over and over

just fine…

gulp

blink

blink

💔

🌺For many, Mother’s and Father’s Days trigger more feelings of loss than joy. I dedicate this to ALL those who’ve had to grovel (like my husband) for the parental love I’ve taken for granted.🌺

***Luggage Lady is off to the Balkans. I’ll return with more stories soon…😘

(Photo: From our 40-mile hike to Machu Picchu, Peru 2013 💕 Incidentally, this darling boy had two doting parents hovering nearby…I just loved the picture.)

Somehow… I’m Enough

Wedding fif

Celebrating our fifteenth wedding anniversary recently, someone asked, “Did you guys ever think you’d make it this far?”

As a flight attendant/pilot couple, we’re well aware our odds of marital success are lower than the dismal average. So we take pride rather than offense when such questions arise. But my lungs deflated when my husband replied, “Personally, I can’t believe she didn’t bail the second I started flapping my jaws about my past.”

I forced a smile. But for someone from a cohesive family, including parents who will celebrate their 52nd anniversary next month, enduring a childhood rooted in abandonment and abuse is anguish I will forever struggle to comprehend.

* * *

Mothers are supposed to hurl themselves in front of speeding trains if it means saving their children — right??? But what if you’re a mistake, whisked from your birth mother to an adoptive mother who subsequently opts for “children of her own,” leaving you in the hands of a broken man when you’re just seven? And what if this sole parent turns to the bottle to satiate his anger and to you with raging fists when liquor fails?

My husband needn’t ponder — this was his childhood. And the hardship didn’t end there.

As is frequently the case, the booze triumphed and rendered him an orphan at twenty-three. He pursued his flying dream relentlessly, but the major airlines required a medical history he lacked. In searching for this, he discovered a clerical error: His birth name had been left visible in the adoption records — a unique one, courtesy of his Czechoslovakian mother.

He was twenty-six when he found her. Living with a man in his early thirties, she was terrified that the sudden appearance of her secret son might result in yet another failed romance. After meeting him, she interacted sporadically before vanishing again. As a parting gift, however, she shared his father’s identity —  and the uncanny addendum: He was also an airline pilot!

Optimism skyrocketing, he couldn’t wait to meet his genetic blueprint. Unfortunately, their relationship was doomed from the git-go. Dad was married to a younger woman who couldn’t stomach my husband’s existence — forget subjecting her pre-teen children to such a scandal.

* * *

I’m ashamed to admit, the first time he told me his (less cheeky) version of the story, I quickly located my nearest exit. Don’t get me wrong, I was smitten from the start. He was (and is) my bona fide flyboy in shining armor — and yet?? Even now, in those unguarded moments when I spy a darkness in his eyes I can’t seem to brighten, inadequacy looms:

What if I make a mess of the love he’s gone a lifetime without

Letting him down like countless others?

What if I inadvertently poke holes in an already battered soul

Because my heart is too small?

What if I’m not worthy of the gem that he is?

💞

Then he pulls me into his resilient embrace

Eclipsing words

Halting time

Heartbeats melding

Thumping a tune of

Perpetual devotion

And I know

Somehow… 

I’m enough

* * *

♥ I dedicate this to every person struggling with family or abandonment issuesparticularly during the Holiday Season. I know how hard it is to open your hearts and let another in, but please know that what you’ve endured doesn’t define you. You prove this time and again with your steadfast attitudes and successes. YOU are precious gifts, inspiring others to overcome obstacles while finding the courage to forgive and trust again. And I, for one, am oh-so-grateful for your presence on this earth! xoxo ♥

When You Were Worthy of the Finest

When-You-Were-Worthy-Luggage-Lady-Blog

 

Remember when…

Adorned by family and friends

Cameras captured

Your fanciful march

Besotted with promise

Twirling fuchsia bouquet

In your tailored silk gown

Intricate ring placed with trembling hand

Imparting unity eternal

Freshly bound souls

Dreams bubbling like Champagne

Whispered cheek-to-cheek

Beneath a propitious moon?

But life unfolded…

Human condition consuming

Boxes to check

Building a home, family — career

Hearts taken for granted

Prioritizing spouse and children

Personal ambitions shelved

Until one day a ray of sunshine startles…

Elicits yesterday’s smile

Ironing a face etched by sacrifice

And resurrecting hope

From that time

When you were worthy of the finest…

An Unbreakable Circle

1974Aug

In Honor of My Mom’s Birthday…

No matter where I venture in this world

You travel with me

A secret strength embedded in my soul

An infinite friendship

Illuminating my path

Your tireless support

Elevates my spirit

Like a mesmerizing sunset stuns spectators to silence

While poets and artists struggle to capture the true essence

Standing back in wonderment

Hearts flooding with optimism

Our connection enhances my existence

In ways words and pictures cannot adequately depict

Boundlessly maternal

You gracefully care for all fortunate enough to cross your path

A gift to the universe

Mine by extraordinary fate

Intertwined for eternity

The enduring bond of love between mother and daughter

An unbreakable circle…

Proof of Existence

 

Proof-of-Existence-Luggage-Lady-Blog

MotherhoodThe ultimate contribution to the universe.

Mothers are creators and nurturers, rightfully referred to as “wonder women,” fulfilling an esteemed role.

But what of the woman who is either unable to deliver life — or who chooses a child-free existence?

What becomes of this tragic lady who will never know the unconditional love of a child reliant upon her for — everything? And what about those adorable intangibles: comparing dimples and eye shape, stubbornness and wit. Did the little one inherit that trait from her grandma or her auntie?

In failing to experience the true essence of what it means to be female, is she destined to be an outcast who lacked the foresight to fret over who would care for her in old age? Having missed her opportunity to be part of the “social norm,” how will this fruitless soul leave her mark?

Fortunately, she has nothing holding her back from lofty dreams. And, if this unencumbered road makes the stalls and failures more biting, it matters not. She’s privy to oodles of free time with the luxury of beginning anew again and again…

But can ensuing accomplishments ever equate?

Because in the end

Whether a consequence of fate or choice

A haunting question lingers:

Can one be considered a successful human being without leaving genetic proof that she existed at all?

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: