My immediate family is very small. I'm an only child and have very few living relatives.
I come from a long line of very strong people and, I married into the same kind of line. I'm very fortunate in that way. In many ways, actually.
When my Mom and Dad married, they wanted children so badly. They tried for many years to have one. Test after test, heartbreak after heartbreak, they had given up. They had decided to adopt two children whom they had been taking care of for quite some time. As they started looking into the adoption procedures, my Mom came down with the flu. After visiting the doctor for treatment of this "flu", she returned home to tell my Dad the miraculous news: they were pregnant!
Story has it that my Dad was painting the trim on the house at the time and was on a ladder. Upon hearing the news, he fell off. I wish I could have seen that!
During my mother's pregnancy, the doctors discovered that she was also carrying a tumor in her womb. Medical technology wasn't what it is today back then, so this was an extremely risky situation. My Mom and Dad were faced with a huge decision to make. Their choices were, 1. terminate the pregnancy, 2. remove the tumor but risk losing the baby, or 3. carry the baby full term and my mother risk loosing her life. After careful consideration and much prayer, my parents chose to risk it and carry the baby full term.
In January of 1970, their miracle baby was born: me.
Over the next nine months, my mother's health started to deteriorate. She began having bouts of amnesia, dizziness, severe migraines, etc. One Sunday morning, she bent over my crib to gather me up to go to church and she didn't move again on her own for the following 5 months. She had an acute aneurism. The strain of carrying a baby and the tumor was too much on her body. My mother was hospitalized for the next several months. Her paralyzation was so severe that the doctors pleaded with my father to have her institutionalized. The claimed that she'd never be able to walk, talk, or even think intelligent thoughts again because the storke had caused such devestating brain damage.
My Dad wouldn't hear of having his wife locked away. He worked every free moment he had with my Mom to help bring her back to a functioning state. Day in and day out, my Mom went to therapies, exercised, learned to speak, feed herself, walk, everything. My Dad was right besdie her all the way.
My Mom finally regained enough of her skills and strength to come home. A stroke didn't stop her. Nothing can.
Over the rest of my childhood, my Mom had many, many health problems. Collapsed arteries, cancer, heart attacks, bleeding ulcers, hernias, you name it. None of these ever kept her down. She's a fighter and a firm believer in the power of prayer.
She's always called me her miracle baby. Well, she's my miracle Momma.
My Dad has gone through alot in his 60-some odd years. He's been knocked down, drug through the dirt, stood before the perverbial firing squad and walked away from it all stronger, braver, and with dignity. My parents are very special people. I wish all children could be as fortunate as I've been.
My Dad has been a teacher, an authoritarian, a guide, an example, and a friend to me. From insisting that I learn about classical music to downloading virii, hes one of a kind and I love him dearly.
Now, my Mom has developed emphysema and asthma. She's on oxygen 24/7 and needs several breathing treatments a day. As always, my Dad is right beside her daily, taking care of her and helping her to fight. I only hope that my will is as strong as that of my parents.
