I marvel that I have two very different offspring. One, a earthy natural living healing organic woman and the other competitive, all around sportsman, and future US Marine.
The almost Marine made the decision to step up and serve his country after September 11 happened. He was in the third grade. One fourth of his graduating class in High School joined a branch of service. I raised him the best way an earth mother could. From birth, he made his own choices. He refused bottles, so I was his main food source. He could skate and roller blade before he could walk. He was a champion weight lifter, star baseball pitcher and popular football and soccer player. He laughs. When he is not pushing his body to new endurance levels, he is laughing. His heart is as big as mine. What he does with his life is not my first choice, as a peace-nik. I will worry and pray and meditate for his protection. And be intensely proud.
The firstborn was ruined by me. I nursed her too. I found a doctor who would not vaccinate her until I decided it was time to inject an infant body with poison. I made her food every day from only organic ingredients. She was given chiropractic adjustments as a toddler. My 100 square foot garden behind our townhouse (I was the only homeowner to turn a backyard into a source for food) was where she learned about bugs, vegetables and picking beans. She played soccer and hockey and when dumped by a boyfriend who asked her to a prom, went by herself anyway. I gladly paid for that dress. She is training to become a healer, eats organic and is a spiritual seeker on a path to owning her own business devoted to helping people live healthy lives. I’m intensely proud.
If You Knew Me
That these two miracles of joy, determination, no drugs/drinking, healthy living came from me is amazing. I was not like them when I was growing up. I was lost every day. Every day hurt. Every. Day.
I carry deep seated wounds that I wrestle with, but as time goes on, and I learn to let go, the nightmares are rare and the fear is manageable. I am angry every day. It is my cross to bear. So how did I raise two children to not make the mistakes I did? For starters, I chose a great father to them. Even when we divorced we co-parented and were dedicated parents. Then, I gave them a great step-dad and their Dad gave them a great step-mom. It took 4 people, who agreed on peaceful relationships, open communication, parental involvement in school and sports and good worth ethics to do it. We paid for their college studies. We sacrificed and went into debt.
Of the 4, I am the hippie.
Of the 4, I am the one who surrounds herself with crystals, sage, Native American artifacts and old 60’s and 70’s records.
Of the 4, I have my own business. Which has had ups and downs. I keep going.
Of the 4, I marvel the most. I think too much. I watch the present through a lens of bad memories and terrible choices. I was convinced I was not worthy of being loved.
And needed to be sure I could prove it.
What sustains me is hippie dust. It’s a magical force that has lived within me, before Woodstock happened, but solidified because it did.
I still hear the music.
I wrote “I Was Sprinkled with Hippie Dust” for Medium.