We met and became friends, and then more, in the early 1980's, both working for IBM on the Space Shuttle program with NASA. Among many others our age, we were starting our adult lives together. It was a busy time for NASA contractors, and they were hiring in large numbers there down near Clear Lake and the "Rocket Park".
It was an exciting time for young single people, but also a lonely time for me at first. I knew no one at first, my parents had moved to Hawaii, and though I did not know enough to admit it at the time, I had a tendency to fall into depressed moods easily. I fell into relationships easily too, and without much thought. I soon found myself about to become a mother, from a relationship with a still-legally-married man. He could not be involved as a parent. I understood, and I did not want him to try to be.
And yet, in spite of everything, my soon-to-be-husband and I had a wonderful friendship and then, romance, though with ups and downs, all through my pregnancy. He was my greatest support throughout. I tried pushing him away at times, thinking it was not a good time for me to be nurturing a serious romantic relationship, wondering why he was sticking around a pregnant woman by some other man, but we always came back together, as if it was meant to be and we just couldn't fight it.
We married in 1983, and in 1984 he adopted my daughter. Later in that year I resigned from my job at IBM in Houston, where we both worked, and became a full-time homemaker, in conjunction with our transfer to North Carolina. This was not for any moral or ethical reasons, but because I was tired and over-stressed, and we were able financially to make that choice. We made the choice together. He did not have a strong preference one way or the other. He would have supported whichever choice I preferred as long as we could afford it financially.
So, we transferred to North Carolina from Texas in '84. I should say, he transferred with IBM. I resigned. My manager gently told me that he could not recommend me for a transfer. I understood. My maternal responsibilities conflicted with my professional ones. R had medical needs and I took a lot of time off from work because of that. Her premature birth and consequent follow up doctor appointments and unique child care needs had not been expected of course, but life happens that way sometimes, and I had no family nearby. In our close circle of friends, we were the first couple to become parents. Our friends were as supportive as they could be, but they had not had the experience yet. They were in a different place in their lives. My manager seemed relieved that I was not planning to try to transfer.
Durham, North Carolina was a new chapter. We were there from Summer, 1984-Summer, 1992. We bought our first house, a small cedar-sided house in a cozy neighborhood. The area was growing because of the Research Triangle Park. He worked at the IBM location there. I started my life as a full-time homemaker, hanging out with the other young moms in our neighborhood. I spent most of my time with one neighbor who became a dear friend. She and I spent hours visiting while her son and my daughter played together. Her daughter, and our second daughter were born while we were there. We came back to Texas in 1992, this time to the Austin area. I recently got back in touch with her after years of only being in touch at Christmas. She is not on social media. I have missed her so very much.
It turned out to be a good thing, my choice of occupation. His work required a lot of traveling. I still did not have family nearby, and R seemed to get a new diagnosis almost every year. Things could be very tense at times. The odds were not in our favor as a couple with a special needs child. Somehow, we survived.
Now that Pinterest exists, I have fun sometimes looking up things I am nostalgic about from the 1980's. I wasn't that trendy during that time. My wedding dress was not modern for the time; it was my mother's, and had been new in the mid-1950's. I did have some feminine-looking dresses that I had bought at our local mall, ruffled, puff sleeves, pastel colors. I had a couple of those blouses with the bows at the collar and shoulder pads. My hair was layered for awhile until I let it grow out. Those Cherokee brand type shoes? Yes I had some of those, but as pregnancy progressed, I wore fewer heeled shoes of any kind.
Now that Spotify exists, I have playlists of smooth rock and jazz tunes that were popular at the time. They remind me of the beginning of our intense romance back then. They are sometimes called "yacht rock" now. He is more into classic rock, but we have a lot of overlapping taste in music.
I have recently finished a long project of organizing our pre-digital photos into albums. Seeing all those pictures of our girls when they were children brings back all those memories, and I want to look at them again and again. I collected children's books and music over all those years, and loved sharing them with the girls. I made some dolls for them and loved taking them to the library, toy stores and book stores. I cannot drive past the playgrounds here that I often took them to without becoming sentimental. I dare not mention all this to them now, because the present is what matters most to them, as it should. They are not ready to be nostalgic about their childhood yet. I am barely there myself concerning my own childhood.
I used to get the Chinaberry Book Catalog. Recently I found this book and bought it, thinking I might give it to some new parents in the family. I might do that, but I really just wanted it for myself.
I haven't let this subscription lapse yet. I love the stories and illustrations. They have been suitable for R developmentally. Sometimes I donate the older issues. I can't seem to bear to toss them into the recycle bin.
Why this nostalgia on my part so much lately? Could it be because I see R declining in some abilities now when she used to be able to play on a playground, walk on her own, swim and climb and even run a little? She was never as agile as other children, but still, she could do a lot more. She is 38 now, and I don't expect the same agility as when she was 8 of course, but the aging process in her case is happening faster than one would expect at her age. To go anywhere without a walker is unthinkable now. We have a wheelchair stored away in case we ever need it. She is my daughter, not my parent. To see my mother recovering from her injury at age 83, knowing that she should be able to wean herself off her walker and on to a cane, while my daughter has been going the other direction, feels as backwards as their ages are to each other.
Could it also be that L is about to start teaching in person next week instead of virtually, and I will be worried every day for her safety? Once that starts, she will not be visiting us for a while. We will not be visiting her. Not until we have all been vaccinated. What are the holidays going to be like? Zoom celebrations? If so, we will have to make the best of it, knowing we are all in the same boat, and comfort each other that way. It will be a memory some day, when things are better.
I suppose my babies will always be my babies in my heart.
