ENC 1101-B3 & B4: Writing for Discovery

It was a long ride to nowhere.

The sun was hot, and there was a gentle cool breeze that filtered through the air. I rolled down the windows to let the beauty of the land gaze in and radiate through my hair. I had no destination, just the urge to leave my small town and explore the outside world. A world that meant bigger dimensions for me, and most importantly....freedom!

I looked into my rear view mirror, and saw nothing but long stretches of road and colorful trees that decorated the dullness of the streets. In the distance I could see a tiny brick house with a wooden picket fence surrounding it. As I traveled closer to the house, I noticed a tire swing hanging down from an oak tree in the front yard. It made for the perfect children’s toy. There was something about that swing that made me reminisce about my childhood where I grew up in a small-scale southern town. For some reason, the house peeked my interest, and I just had to go look around.

As I pulled up to the house, I spotted a rather large dog running out towards me. The intensity of his bark forced me back into my car. As I was about to drive away, a voice yelled out. “Sam, come here boy.” A woman about 60 years of age stood patiently on the front porch. The voice sounded vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Because I had no particular place to be, and because of my charming southern manners, I decided to get out of my car and greet the elderly woman.

I walked up to the porch, extended my hand and introduced himself. With that, she stared at me for a good few minutes as if she became lost in my eyes. “I know who you are”, she said. To my surprise, we did in fact know each other. But from where?

“Do you wish to come in?”, announced the woman. Not knowing what to do in a situation as this one, I agreed to go in and find out who she was. After all, how much harm could a 60 year old lady bring? After contemplating for awhile as to whom this lady was, I gave up and just asked. Little did I know that what she had to say would change my life forever.

“Understand that what Im going to say to you may come as a shock, but you must trust me”, she said. “I am your mother.” I looked at her as if she was a psychopath that just escaped from the insane asylum, attempted to gather my things, and made my way to the front door. “Please don’t be alarmed, what I am telling you is indeed the truth, and I have proof!” After this comment she quickly ran to the closet and took down a shoe box filled with papers. She rummaged through several documents and finally found what she was searching for. She handed me my birth certificate. “It’s you”, she said. I could feel my face turn red as I tried to sort out what I had just heard. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could this be true?

All that ran through my head was thoughts of my prior experiences. Was everything previous to this false? If this lady was in fact my actual mother, then who was the woman who raised me the past 23 years of my life? These questions needed answers. I didn’t know where to begin. Should I believe this woman that I never met before? “What if I didn’t stop at your house?” “What if I were to continue driving down the road? “Would I ever have met you then? To this she answered, “Sometimes things happen for a reason son.”

Although I was in denial about the whole situation, she had paper after paper with my name on it. She even had a baby picture of me in her arms. The biggest question I had though, was why did she give me up?

After hours of conversation, I truly believed in what this woman was telling me. She explained in great detail the reason why she gave me up for adoption. “When your father died in the army, he left me without a cent to my name.” Because I knew I could never afford to raise a baby by myself, and because I knew that keeping you meant no opportunity for your future, I had no choice but to do what was in your best interest.” She went further to explain that she never tried to find me because she was ashamed of what she had done and could never forgive herself. So instead, she purchased a small house out where no one could bother her, and she could be all alone.

She built the swing to remind herself of the child she gave away.

After much thought, I decided that the right thing to do was to stay with my real mother. After all, there’s no place like home!