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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Faith / Hope
- Published: 02/12/2011
A Mothers Fingerprint
Born 1949, F, from Aurora Co, United StatesThe Mothers Fingerprint
By Joy Casaus
For Jay
She sat curled up on the lawn chair watching the fireworks, they were beautiful. They shot up in the air, bursting in bright colors, swirling in the sky like tiny little fairies dancing in the night. She could hear the ewww’s and aaaws from the people near her, it was the forth of July celebration, but for her there was nothing to celebrate. A tear rolled down her cheek, her hand rubbed her stomach. She was pregnant; her world would never be the same. The father was gone, they had been in love, he was in the service and he was gone. She had thought about an abortion, it would be fast and over and her life could move forward with no one knowing the difference. That is no one but her, rubbing her hand over her stomach she knew abortion was something she could never do. There was life inside her, part of her and she could not destroy it. She would have this baby, he would be healthy, and she would always love him, but she would not keep him, adoption was the best solution, for both her and the child.
Summer moved into fall and fall into winter and then holidays. The baby grew and the woman would stand looking out the window watching the snow fall and the Christmas lights glimmer, she would heave a deep sigh, let out a breath, and wonder what kind of life this child would have, hoping with her whole being that it would be a good one, that he would have a home where he would always be loved and cared for. She wished that she could give him something so that he would know that she had loved him, would always love him.
The days moved swiftly into months, the baby grew inside her, she would rub her stomach and he would kick her, it was like a silent conversation between the two of them, her telling him with her touch that she loved him, him responding with a kick acknowledging that he knew. She would lay in bed at night and softly sing lullabies to him, or tell him stories about her, his dad and family he would never know, and again she would wish that there was something she could give this child so that he would know that he had been and would always be loved.
Time went so swiftly, nine months was a tear drop in the ocean of life for her. He was born on April 1st, a time when tricks were played, but this trick was played on her for this child, the fruit of a love she would never know, a child that for nine months she had felt grow inside her, that her body had nurtured and loved, would never be hers to hold. She would never see him grow to become a man, never kiss his hurts or comfort him when he was scared.
For one brief moment she held him in her arms, gently holding him up and looking into his big eyes and holding him close to her breast. She knew that this was the one moment, the one thing, that she would remember for the rest of her life. If she could change anything in her life this would be the one thing, the one moment, that she would never change, giving this child life was a gift. She held him wishing again that there was.
A Mothers Fingerprint(Joy Casaus)
The Mothers Fingerprint
By Joy Casaus
For Jay
She sat curled up on the lawn chair watching the fireworks, they were beautiful. They shot up in the air, bursting in bright colors, swirling in the sky like tiny little fairies dancing in the night. She could hear the ewww’s and aaaws from the people near her, it was the forth of July celebration, but for her there was nothing to celebrate. A tear rolled down her cheek, her hand rubbed her stomach. She was pregnant; her world would never be the same. The father was gone, they had been in love, he was in the service and he was gone. She had thought about an abortion, it would be fast and over and her life could move forward with no one knowing the difference. That is no one but her, rubbing her hand over her stomach she knew abortion was something she could never do. There was life inside her, part of her and she could not destroy it. She would have this baby, he would be healthy, and she would always love him, but she would not keep him, adoption was the best solution, for both her and the child.
Summer moved into fall and fall into winter and then holidays. The baby grew and the woman would stand looking out the window watching the snow fall and the Christmas lights glimmer, she would heave a deep sigh, let out a breath, and wonder what kind of life this child would have, hoping with her whole being that it would be a good one, that he would have a home where he would always be loved and cared for. She wished that she could give him something so that he would know that she had loved him, would always love him.
The days moved swiftly into months, the baby grew inside her, she would rub her stomach and he would kick her, it was like a silent conversation between the two of them, her telling him with her touch that she loved him, him responding with a kick acknowledging that he knew. She would lay in bed at night and softly sing lullabies to him, or tell him stories about her, his dad and family he would never know, and again she would wish that there was something she could give this child so that he would know that he had been and would always be loved.
Time went so swiftly, nine months was a tear drop in the ocean of life for her. He was born on April 1st, a time when tricks were played, but this trick was played on her for this child, the fruit of a love she would never know, a child that for nine months she had felt grow inside her, that her body had nurtured and loved, would never be hers to hold. She would never see him grow to become a man, never kiss his hurts or comfort him when he was scared.
For one brief moment she held him in her arms, gently holding him up and looking into his big eyes and holding him close to her breast. She knew that this was the one moment, the one thing, that she would remember for the rest of her life. If she could change anything in her life this would be the one thing, the one moment, that she would never change, giving this child life was a gift. She held him wishing again that there was.
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