Lullaby for a Teenager

Thank you to my Protector who gave me "One More Angel". The courage to do this came from your affection and your understanding, and I will always love you for it.

*

Honey, it's your Mommy.

I know that you probably don't recognize me because it has been a long time. I haven't been well, locked away so as not to be contagious, but for the first time in a very long time, I am finally feeling better.

You were gone from me before I ever fully confirmed that you existed. I don't know if you left me because you thought it was a lock that I would have made you go away. It would not have been, in spite of everything I did with the Pills and the condoms and the pulling out. It would not have been, once I had a field of blue or a urine-stained plus sign. True, I was never in that frame of mind to meet the awesome responsibilities which you would have required, but then I was never charged with that requirement. I might have been able to do it, but it would have been just the two of us for sure.

I have always imagined you as Dmitri or Natalia, partly based on the love your father and I share for anything Russian Romantic. Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture is something we both adored when we were together. I have no doubt that if he were involved, his big love would have crept in -- your middle name for sure would have been Mahler. I would have fought that battle with him, but I would have lost. I can't listen to Symphony No. 10, the one that was unfinished when Mahler died and a scholar put together many years later, without thinking of you. In fact, that symphony largely describes me. I have been in pieces for a long time, and a wise and gifted friend is helping me sort it all out just by listening, by holding me and caring for me as I put it all together. Sometimes something extraordinary can happen in a place you would never imagine -- that's how I found him. The name I imagined for you, Natalia, has been with me since I was barely even able to have a child. When I was about fourteen, a friend and I were talking about children's names. The name I chose was "Natalia de Ciel" with de Ciel being French for "of Heaven". Ironic, that's how you've always been to me.

I know you'd be smack dab in the middle of middle school now, thirteen. In my mind's eye, you'd have your father's beautiful looks: dark brown hair, stick straight and so shiny, eyes so dark brown the edges of the irises are purple, his length of bone, his fair skin with that gets unbelievably dark when kissed by the sun. I know that you would have had the heritage of his prodigious talent, so violin lessons would have been a must to start. Anything else would have been all you. I would have cheered you for tee ball or Kindermusik, gymnastics or karate, science fairs or spelling bees. You would never have come home to an empty house. You would never have wanted for any books or music. You would never have played second fiddle to anyone or anything.

About Daddy. This is very complicated and I don't understand so I don't expect you to understand. He left us, but it wasn't your fault. Since Mommy didn't know for sure, she couldn't tell him. Your leaving me was the first time I was certain, and for him, it would have been another heartbreak. Mommy's love for him wanted to spare him that much. He was never Mommy's to begin with, but somehow in the midst of his awful and lonely life, he and Mommy became close. It was the sweetest thing Mommy has ever known, the day he told her he loved her in the middle of all his mess. She made him forget all his failures and opened his eyes to possibilities. Being loved by him, as wrong as it was, is probably the closest Mommy will ever be to where you are. He was very funny, had a wicked wit, was brilliant about a great many things. He wasn't a dandy with his hands like many violinists, and he was always in the middle of every lively conversation. He was married and many people think that makes Mommy a terrible person, but his wife abandoned him in more ways than one. When push came to shove, he chose the Devil he knew, too afraid to be judged, too afraid to change for the better, too afraid. I won't describe you as an "accident" -- what a terrible thing to say. Never doubt that you were conceived in love even though this situation was less than ideal. Daddy had difficulties being able to make love to Mommy, and one day, we must have gotten in too much of a hurry. One day, you must have gotten by us.

Because I never gave birth to you, held you, nursed you, bathed you, some people would think that Mommy's grief would not be great: they'd be wrong. Mommy was so devastated about Daddy's leaving, and when you left me, too, it was too much to bear. It's not that I forgot you, I just haven't been able to face you till now.

I'm sorry there is no place where you lay, where I can bring you roses, teddy bears, balloons. Clear the weeds around your headstone.

This, my love, is the lullaby I never got to sing to you.