My Story

I have this plaque sitting on my desk that says "Home is where your story begins." Annie Danielson.
 We all have a story don't we? Whether it includes laughter and joy or heartache and anger or both, we all have a story of where we've been, who we were, and where we're going.
   When I started going to school as a kindergartener I developed this habit of hiding my hands behind my back. My mom noticed it and asked me why I was always keeping my hands behind me. I told her that kids were teasing me about my hands, calling them grandma hands. You see, I have extremely deep creases in my hands and always have. I've had people tell me, "you need to put lotion on those things!" But they aren't dry or cracked, they are just wrinkled. Well, she told me, "Oh don't you be ashamed of those hands. Wrinkled hands just mean you'll have an interesting life."
   Isn't it amazing how a mom always has the right words. I felt better right away. Looking back, who knows if she just made it up or had heard it somewhere, but whatever the case, she gave me the boost I needed.
   Turns out, I think she may have been on to something. I have had a pretty interesting life thus far, and Lord willing, I have a lot of life left to live.
   My story begins in a home other than here, my mom's home. 33 years ago my mom met my dad. She lived in Ulm, Germany and he was there with the US airforce. He was walking through town and went into a park and couldn't find his way out. He asked her for directions, which she understood little of, and he followed her out of the park. It could end there, but he didn't just say thanks and leave. He followed her home. He was obviously taken by her. Who wouldn't be? She was a captivating woman, with long, thick, flowing hair, and a rather serious and thoughtful expression.
  Months later, he was still dropping by and they began to enjoy one anothers' company. It wasn't long before she found she was pregnant. And here's where I must pause and reveal a wonderful truth in this story. She chose life. She wasn't married, knew her family would be saddened by it, wasn't sure what to do with a child when she worked nights all week at the hospital, didn't know where to put a child in a one bedroom apartment, and had no idea if my dad would stick around. And yet, despite the odds stacked against her, she chose life. And I thank God for that often.
   On a hot summer day, two days after my due date, I finally made my entrance into this world. My mom had been in labor for two days and had not even told my dad, so she had me without him knowing about it at all! He had to find her through some friends. Turns out he stuck around.
   My dad, being the gentleman, offered to marry my mom as soon as he had found out she was pregnant. Well, she didn't want to be hitched until she knew he would stick around and it took another 1 1/2 years after my birth to convince her.
   During that time life wasn't easy for her. She remained single and worked a lot. She had me at a woman's house for daycare and my Oma (grandma) went to pick me up there one day. As she walked into the room where I was supposedly sleeping she saw me shut my eyes quickly when the door opened, pretending to sleep. She knew then and there that she couldn't leave me with that woman anymore. The daycare lady had told my mom before this that I slept all the time. So, I went to live with my grandparents during the week and my mom would come on weekends when she didn't have to work. As hard as that was for my mom she knew I was safe and I built an immensely strong and fierce bond with my Oma that has carried on to today.
   It's amazing how as I think about this time in my life, a time I can't remember and know only from stories told me, how others so strongly influence and change the course of our lives. Parents, grandparents, siblings, spouses, even our own children rock our world and turn us around and change us forever. What a great privilege to have these relationships, even if they aren't the healthiest or best for us. They still influence us. Home truly is where our story begins, but it's just that. The beginning. 
  When I was a year and a half, my mom had to make an extremely hard decision that would affect my life forever. But that's another story for another day.