July 24, 2002
My mom had my older brother when she was seventeen years old. My grandpa was in the Navy and was stationed there. By the time she found out she was pregnant, they had moved back to San Diego. She convinced them to let her go back to Hawaii to visit and sent them a letter telling them of her condition. They let her stay there to have the baby. She lived in a group home with other pregnant girls, close to her boyfriend, whom she planned to marry. These days, it's a common thing to see pregnant teenagers. They were all over the place when I was in High School. Some girls had more than one child. It was not so common back then. She saw my brother one time after he was born. He was in a little yellow outfit. She named him Robert. I can't imagine what it was like for her to give a piece of her away. She wanted him to have more than she could give him. Giving him away was an act of love. I saw the pictures of him once. A little baby in a yellow smock. I didn't know who he was. I aksed my mom and she told me he was a friend's child. They were the only physical evidence she had left of him.
She told me about him when I was thirteen or so. I cried when she told me. I cried because she had to give up her baby. I cried because I somehow thought she had cheated on my dad. Twenty something years had passed and all my mom had of him were the nine months they had spent together and her dreams of him. A few years later, my mom received a call from my grandparents. They told her to sit down. He had found her. After several years of searching, she was able to meet her baby. To begin a relationship with him. Her dreams had come true. He came to visit us. He resembles my family, other than he is part Japanese from his dad's side. His feet look like mine. We have the same ears. He grew up in Hawaii and went to Yale. He was provided for. His name is Jon now. I know my mom regrets having given him up, but is so thankful that he was given a life she never could have given him. I know she is happy that she was able to bless a family that could not have children of their own by giving them her precious baby. He and my mom talk and he visits every now and then. I know they both treasure the moments they spend together, having been apart for so many years. He calls her mom, which I know fills her heart with joy. They love each other unconditionally. They have learned a lot about each other as they have attempted to catch up on all the years they spent apart. He is her child despite the fact that they met when he was an adult. They both bite their tongues and purse their lips when they are mad. They both are compassionate and giving individuals. They have a very special bond. They accept each other for who they are. She is his mom and he is her son.