Tuesday, February 9, 2021

This is Jean

My mother was given a name at birth that my great aunt did not approve of.  All these years I assumed that it was because there was a problem with the first name. {I would love to type it, but for some reason my mother is ashamed of it and doesn't know that I have discovered it.  So for now, I will not publish it.}  But it wasn't the first name that my great aunt took issue with...my grandmother had that child, my mother, out of wedlock and initially gave her the last name of her former husband.  My great aunt said, no, you can't do that, it isn't his child.  To add insult to injury, she talked my grandmother into a new first name as well, re-naming the baby Jeannette.  Her expression in this photo is  accurate for my mother, yet heartbreaking.  A solemn child, cold sore on her lip.  She was pretty cute actually, but probably didn't smile all that much.


My mother is a child of the depression, granddaughter of a Baptist preacher that referred to her as "the little bastard", a product of  a failed relationship, born in 1930.  But she will tell you she had a great childhood with memories of days spent playing freely in creeks and fields out in the country with an older brother and cousin.  Its all perspective.
I believe her to be a highly functioning autistic person.
Photos were few.  My grandmother raised my mother and an older brother alone.  They lived in a house with no electricity or running water.  They caught or grew what they ate, including squirrel and such.  My mother was very different and she was treated like a little adult because she was so smart.  And people took advantage of her and she was mistreated at times.  She survived. 


She skipped a grade or two,  moved in with and married an older guy just before graduating high school at age 16, and had three kids by age 20.  She studied to become an X-ray tech - something she was very proud of.  Then divorced.  With the second husband, she gained two more kids.  Divorced again.


Started calling herself Jean.  Married a third time and had three more children.  Eight kids ranging in age from 18 to newborn, and a few step-children to boot.  I don't think it ever occurred to her that life could or should be different, and she doesn't spend a lot of time bemoaning those choices.  She divorced the 3rd husband.  Decided to learn this new thing - ultrasound - and continued to work.  She taught herself to crochet, sew, embroider, make quilts, work a garden, raise chickens, take care of children and a home by herself.  She read voraciously.  She lost one child, become estranged from four children.   At age 60 she went to Saudi Arabia to work, and met the love of her life while on vacation in India. She married one last time, at age 60, this time for real love.  Spent 10 years traveling the globe with him, enjoying their life even as they experienced various misadventures.  She saw what life could have, or should have, been and she's been a little less heartsick over losing him each year that passes, but I believe that pain is always with her.


Some things we get to choose, others we do not. Everyone carries a burden - a cross to bear, physically, mentally, whatever.  And we can't yet know why God gives us the life we have.  Some of life's choices are up to us - but we don't have the benefit of hindsight right away - sometimes not until much, much later.  Giving someone the grace of forgiveness and acceptance eases the burden on both of you.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32