Having the misfortune of being 'her mother's daughter', it became increasingly clear from a young age that my youngest was dealing with the genetics of mental health challenges. Thankfully on the lower end of the extreme possibilities, I first began to suspect the genetics link at the tender age of three and a half years. In brief, the suspicion was followed by many years of emotional crescendo, culminating in the heart-rending decision to enroll her in a low-risk facility for troubled girls far from our home state. The six month stay brought new insights and understandings to her life and afforded her the first half of her Senior year high school requirements. After returning home and making the brave foray back to high school, she made the grade and walked with her graduating class in 2005.
The unfortunate complexity of 'chemical imbalance' takes extensive and brave self-examination and study which, you soon come to find is, in reality, a life-long journey. Still battling some of the smaller demons which accompany her particular diagnosis, she presented ongoing challenges with poor decision making. The return to her home environment and the boyfriend we attempted to 'draw the curtain on' proved to bring about the pinnacle of our challenges with her, but not before her older sister beat her to the punch.
The oldest of our daughters, three years her sister's senior, encountered none of the visible insecurities which plagued her younger sibling. Her long blond hair (and cute pink-rimmed glasses) never failed to draw the attention of anyone who saw her. Outer beauty is a sure attractant, especially in children. To look at her was to see that she, unlike her sister, had inherited the lion's share of her father's genetics. Neither did she display any signs of easy emotional upset, another one of her father's stronger traits. And so it was that this child of ours made her journey through the tumultuous teenage years presenting the more typical challenges parents anticipate as possibilities. She contributed her own brand of emotional turmoil and upset.
Yet, we weren't prepared in the least to be at a cross roads with both of our daughters within six months of each other, especially with our oldest leading the way. In the summer of 2004 we found ourselves transporting both of our daughters to new and unfamiliar surroundings.
Our oldest attempted a go at our local University for a couple of semesters, despite her preference to be in Fashion School in California or New York City. The stork left her with the wrong family for the provision of that elite education.
But after she finished up two, less than stellar, semesters (partially due to health challenges in her second) we made the measured decision to fulfill her dreams in a way more affordable to our means than what she would have otherwise chosen. We considered the 'bright lights' of "The Windy City", "Chi Town" to be close and bright enough while sufficiently tantalizing. Should she find success and satisfaction in the experience, we surmised that she would work her buns off, in school and out, to be able to continue on this path.
In June 2004, after conversation and careful research to tailor this experience within the best of our means, all the arrangements had been made and we delivered her to her new home in the heart of Chicago to begin the adventure. Regular calls back and forth informed us of this new world of experiences upon which our daughter was embarking. Her transition from small town Arkansas girl to student in the 'little New York' of the Midwest (a moniker I was introduced to by some of the Chicago locals) seemed to be coming off without a hitch. And yet, for all the bravado she seemed to display throughout her young life, it was after a very successful first year that the realities of living in 'the big city' began to show our daughter a side which she could only understand through experience.
Contrary to life in a small southern town, Anna began to understand some of the impersonal life-style which often accompanies a faster paced, "city" existence. She found an unexpected test in acclimating to a life bustling with activity at any moment of a twenty-four hour day, living alone without real friendships molded over many years, and no ability to hop in her car (which we decided would be too costly and cumbersome in a busy city environment) to just get away. She found a loneliness to which she had given no thought in her embellished vision.
We heard about the occasional social opportunities she found in her new life: a date here, dinner with a 'friend', there. Late 2005 brought a new friendship, which turned into a dating relationship, with a fellow student at the Fashion School. Pursuing Graphic Art after his stint in the military, he and our daughter were soon spending all their free hours together.
Not long after they had begun dating, my husband and I made a side trip to Chicago after spending Friday and Saturday in Missouri. We met them at the Catholic Holy Name Cathedral for Sunday noon mass after traveling from St. Louis that morning. This was a prime opportunity to check "him" over and make our personal assessments, which we would later discuss on our trip home to Arkansas.
Not overly impressed by the time we were able to spend with him but trusting that years of spiritual training, coupled with the wise guidance we tried to provide, we knew that the only control we had were our prayers and open communication with our daughter.
The positive school performance our daughter was able to report (one of her fashion scrapbook projects was even displayed in a window exhibit at the school) brought a sense of satisfaction that she had found a path to pursue which we fully suspected would bring happiness and success.
In July 2004, a bit more than a month after our trip to relocate our oldest to Chicago, we were on our way by plane to introduce our youngest to a new, albeit temporary, life at a small, "girls only" facility in a small Utah town. Her extreme and destructive behavior, which culminated in the middle of her 11th grade year, found us desperate to find the elusive help that we felt she needed. With high hopes that this small haven could help to turn around her emotional turmoil and low self-esteem, we made the long plane trip from Arkansas to Nevada with Lauren in tow. Located just a couple of hours outside of Las Vegas, our road trip to Utah was jovial and yet filled with nervous anticipation.
With the passage of many years now, and a clearer understanding of the insecurity and fear she must have been feeling, I think back with pride on the bravery Lauren displayed. As we made the turn on the long road to that small town, her fears were expressed with tears, controlled emotions and words of her fear. But also with the acknowledgement of the necessity and her desire to get help. As my sweet little Italian mama taught us over and over, "Never judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes." There is no way to fully understand another's difficult journey.
Long story short, (within this loooong story!) Graduation Day from this "Girls Academy" came for Lauren in December of 2004 after which time she would return home to complete her senior year of high school. Knowing that her legal status would soon change in less than a month, we secretly wished that she could be convinced to continue on this journey of her own accord. The new director of the facility had assumed the controls shortly after Lauren was accepted and was still in a "building" phase. He spoke to us about his vision for a program which would be offered to those reaching the age of eighteen but who wanted to continue the path to learning and self-growth.
Being an optimist by nature and remembering my father's wise words (just a few of many), "It never hurts to ask. All they can say is 'No'.", I nonchalantly presented the option during one of our phone conversations before making the trip to Utah for her December graduation. She quickly and kindly made it clear that she was ready to be home. And so it was.
Bringing new life into our world and, to the best of our abilities, nurturing, teaching and molding these little personalities grows in it's complexity as the years pass and they come to "have a mind of their own". The never ending education we acquire, even as we grow into adulthood and beyond, should sober all people if we are honest and surrender to the reality of our limits. Our knowledge and understanding continues to evolve as we live in this world and so, we can never lay claim to "knowing it all."
Societies moors and conventions also change, leaving each generation, in their more mature years, often puzzled and confused by those understandings and values embraced by the generations which have come after them. But you must live it to fully experience and then acknowledge this reality.
With total honesty I can confidently say that Mike and I were not so "Pollyana-ish" to believe that our daughters, regardless of our sincere and loving efforts to impart our Christian values by word and deed, would escape the temptations and painful consequences of unwise decisions. Pain, often brought on by self-centeredness, laziness and self-inflicted ignorance is a major by-product of the human condition.
But human beings are also capable of great hope, especially when there is sustained effort toward the vision or wished for goal. Therein was the basis for our surprise.
So, considering the fact that our daughters are human and fully prone to a fallen nature, my emotions, when given the news in October of 2005 of Anna's (totally unexpected and) progressing pregnancy, fell far from the realm of shock. Of course this was an ever-present possibility, but one that I didn't expect from this intelligent, seemingly confident, self-possessed, 'on the road to her dream' daughter.
The minute details are unimportant, other than to say that there is often a silver-lining around those dark clouds. As my daughter cried and profusely apologized for the disappointment she knew this would cause for her father and me, it became clear that our respect for life was one value she had fully embraced. She allowed a small laugh as she told me, "I heard it's heartbeat, Mom."
Our oldest child who, in her 5th grade year, fashioned a 'campaign poster' which carried candidate Clinton's name with a large 'null' sign across it, was living out her convictions formed and expressed those many years now past. As she showed me her poster she also offered an explanation for it's design: "I'm not voting for Clinton, Mama. He's Pro-Abortion!" What I could only imagine to be an easily accessible procedure in the big city of Chicago was a tool my daughter consciously chose against. She was now faced with and living her convictions which she first proclaimed as a 10 year old girl. How could a mother not be proud!
With an unplanned grandchild on the way and the many decisions facing our daughter, with us as her parents and willing companions, we began to take one day at a time. I flew to Chicago a couple of weeks after that fateful phone call to assure her of our love and support. Communication was open all along the way, with red flags popping up to draw my attention. The 'baby daddy' was uncomfortably and increasingly fitting into the text book description of an adult abused as a child. I engaged Anna in measured conversation to encourage critical thinking on her part. I passionately begged her to beware for signs of possible impending danger from her boyfriend.
Through my studies of human behavior, both in school and out, I was fairly familiar with and aware of the sad legacy which abused children often carry with them into adulthood. The alarm bells sounded long before the pregnancy became an issue. Sensitive to her autonomy as an "adult", albeit one supported by her parents, I tried to inform and educate our daughter toward the unfortunate possibilities of a long-term relationship with a man who had such a difficult and undeserved childhood.
Three months after the birth of our beautiful grandson those concerns proved to be accurate, leading to another complex, emotional, frightening, frustrating, and infuriating period in all our lives. Better left to a story unto itself, this period of time made up many pieces of the puzzle which had become my life.
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