In the beginning there were three.
My mother, my father and Lila.
There were others of course, like me, but this is really where the story begins. The story of Lila that is. How her life began and how it ended entirely too soon.
My parents met in high school. My mother was the middle of five children and the daughter of a waitress and a handy man. My father was the oldest of three and the son of a receptionist and a goodfella that really wasn’t.
Neither of them had a happy childhood.
They both lived in poverty and both of my grandfathers were abusive and drank profusely. My grandmothers were just kids themselves when they started having children, and being women, they weren’t allowed to speak up for themselves.
My parent’s marriage (like their own parents) was turbulent to say the least and highly disapproved.
My grandmother hated my father. He had already dated one of my aunts (my mothers twin sister in fact) for a short time and had been awful to her. But my aunt spoke up for herself. She refused to put up with his abuse.
My mother, however, didn’t have it in her to fight back. She didn’t think that anyone else would ever want her and was so grateful to be chosen and loved by someone, anyone, that she let him treat her however he wanted.
The issue of my parents dating came to a head one night, when my grandmother forbade my mother to see my father anymore. My father, who took whatever he wanted by any means necessary, manipulated my mother into marrying him. She was barely eighteen.
My grandmother was obviously infuriated and when she expressed her opinion to my parents, my father backhanded her.
The following day, in Vegas, with a handful of close friends and family they paid $20 and said some vows in front of a long-haired pastor beneath a neon sign. Later they toasted the union with a bottle of Boone’s and slice of cake in a cheap motel.
Despite her disapproval (and my father’s behavior the night before), my grandmother showed up for the wedding. She figured at that point that there was no sense in fighting it.
I think she made the right choice. Even though she knew that my mother deserved better, she also knew that fighting about it would do nothing more than push her away. And eventually, he would do something to break her heart, she would need her mother to help her pick up the pieces of her shattered life.
Their marriage was tumultuous, unpredictable and fairly short-lived. They had absolutely nothing in common.
He never liked responsibility, commitment or being tied down. And he couldn’t stand being alone. Ever.
He had to be surrounded by people. Lots of people, all the time.
He liked to throw parties, go out drinking with his friends and to show that he was the big spender, he often spent large amounts of their money buying lavish meals and drinks for everyone.
He was impulsive, aggressive and made decisions daily that often led to more work and stress for her. He bought and traded new cars as if they were baseball cards and did random things like bringing home a baby goat to keep as an indoor pet.
He completely bankrupted them in the end with his reckless spending causing them to lose their house, the business that they had only just started and his collection of cars.
He had multiple relationships with other women during their marriage. She refused to listen to her family and friends when they tried to tell her about them. Even when they had proof. Even when it was with women that she knew.
She was the opposite of him in pretty much every way. A bit of a loner, a homebody and pretty thrifty. She had very few friends and preferred to spend most of her time with her family. All she wanted more than anything in the world was to have a family and be a mother. A task that proved much more difficult for her than it did for her own mother and sisters.
She became pregnant and then miscarried four times before finally having Lila.
She had completely given up on being able to have a baby when she got pregnant and was sure that she would never carry her to full term.
At every new pregnancy milestone and doctor’s appointment she was amazed at the progress that the pregnancy was making and although she tried not to be too hopeful, because deep down she was afraid that she’d lose this one too, she started to believe that this pregnancy was the miracle that she’d been waiting for most of her life.
So she did her best to ignore my father’s behavior and quickly deteriorating marriage and put all of her faith, hope and love into the baby growing inside her.
In the end she was rewarded with Lila.
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All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Image: Mariana Montrazi