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Only a Mother's Love by Dori Bushee

Life in the 1950's was much different than it is today, and it seemed as if the whole pace was a bit slower, people cared a little more about family and friends, and the whole purpose of life itself even seemed much clearer.

I can remember so vividly when we moved into our new house in the sleepy little mining town in the hills of Pennsylvania, with my husband of less than one year, and how excited I was to finally become a homemaker.

Back then neighbors went out of their way to welcome newcomers, and that first week I never had to cook a single meal, since my neighbors all brought their own covered casseroles for us so we could concentrate on getting settled in.

There was no house close to us on one side because our house bordered on church property, but on the other side we were fortunate to have a wonderful family that we got to become so very close to over the years.

Emma and Harold had two boys and two girls, who had recently all moved off on their own, so they were very glad to have young newlyweds such as ourselves moving in next door when we did.

Each morning Harold would stop by to pick up my husband and off they would go to work in the mines a few miles away, and Emma and I would spend a lot of our day together, her sharing stories of her grown children that she was so proud of.

The town itself wasn't much bigger than a postage stamp on a map and there were only two main roads and not even a stop sign or a traffic light, but the town had all anyone needed and everyone seemed quite content living there.

There was one small grocery store, two churches, a fire station, and one bar, and the schools, and department stores, and movie theaters were in the city that was about a twenty mile drive away, but that didn't seem to matter either.

After I would get up to see my husband off after a hearty breakfast that would have to hold him until he ate the lunch I would pack for him, I would do the few household chores that needed being done, then head over to pay Emma a visit.

She taught me many things that I never knew, like how to knit, how to crochet, how to plant a flower garden as well as a bountiful vegetable garden, and then later taught me how to preserve them to last through the winter.

After about two years of trying to start a family of our own, I was getting rather discouraged, while at the same time Emma started to feel ill, so we both decided to go to the doctor at the same time since I had a car and she did not.

The news was not what I wanted to hear, and after a few tests it appeared that I might never be able to have children, but for Emma the news was more shocking because now almost into her forties, she found out she was pregnant.

Emma wasn't exactly sure how Harold would take this news, but he was actually thrilled and said, "If God wants us to have another child, then we will have another child and be thankful for this blessing he has given us".

Somehow Emma being pregnant gave me something to concentrate on, and I made sure to go with her to each and every doctor's appointment, and on days when she didn't feel that good I would try and help her out in any way I could.

When the day finally came and she went into labor, I was the one who took her to the hospital, knowing that there might not be enough time for Harold to come home to get her and make it in time with the hospital being a half hour away.

Of course back then only family could be in the delivery room, so Emma simply told them that I was her sister, and there I was, holding her hand and helping her get through the pain, waiting as anxiously as she for the new arrival.

The doctor took the tiny infant away almost immediately upon delivery, and both Emma and I knew something must be wrong, but then in a few seconds a strong healthy cry was heard and we both sighed a sigh of relief together.

While I ran to call her Harold on the telephone, the doctor began explaining that there were some complications, telling Emma that her baby boy might have some problems down the road, but that they would know more in time.

After the obligatory five day hospital stay as they had back then, Harold brought Emma and baby Jeremy home, and I and my husband were there to meet them, with all the gifts we could afford, and we felt so much joy that day.

Over the two years we had lived there by the time Jeremy was born we realized that the Emma and Harold's other children did not come very often to visit, so we pretty much had become their new family as they had become ours.

Jeremy was a very big baby and he ate very well and was remarkably strong, but soon Emma did notice things that I never having been a mother would have not noticed, and she started to fear what the doctor had told her.

Still Emma and I kept to our routines and I visited her and Jeremy every day and I enjoyed playing with him and making him laugh, but even I started to realize that he wasn't progressing in some areas that he should be progressing in.

By the time Jeremy was to start kindergarten, all the tests had been completed and the diagnosis meant that Jeremy could not even attend school since his learning abilities were never going to be like that of other children.

Emma and Harold never let this change how they felt about Jeremy, and made whatever sacrifices had to be made to give him the best possible life, and my husband and I did the same, knowing that love has no boundaries.

We watched Jeremy grow from a baby into adulthood before the mines closed, then we moved away to another state, and while I kept up with Emma in letters, it still was not the same and I missed her and Jeremy and Harold so much.

Over the years the letters didn't come quite as often, and finally we only wrote to each other at Christmas time when we sent our holiday cards, but I guess I hoped in my heart that things were going well for our missed friends.

The other day someone from the church sent me the local newspaper and in it was an obituary circled in red, and what I read tore at my heartstrings more than I could have ever imagined, and I cried for days.

Apparently ten years earlier Harold had passed away and Emma had never told us, and even still signed his name on their Christmas cards, and now Emma too had passed away, leaving Jeremy all alone in the world.

I remembered how he always had to sleep in his parents room and was so afraid to be alone, and when he was a teenager, Harold moved into his own bedroom so Emma and Jeremy could sleep in twin beds right next to each together.

Emma had told me early on that Jeremy not only had to sleep in the same room but had to hold her hand as well, so I could imagine the torment Jeremy must be going through now, unless one of this sisters or brothers had taken him in.

After talking it over with my husband, we decided to take a trip back to that little mining town to see if we could find out what had happened to Jeremy and where he was staying, and perhaps pay him a visit, not sure he'd still even remember us.

My heart just about broke when we found out that none of Jeremy's siblings wanted to be bothered with caring for him and that he had been sent off to some state facility where he would be left to live out his life all alone.

We drove as fast as our car could get us to the state hospital, and once we got to the front desk we insisted on seeing Jeremy even though it was after visiting hours, but the staff kindly obliged us because Jeremy had no visitors so far.

Jeremy, now in his mid forties, still had his boyish grin, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw us, as his arms opened wide and he came running towards us as if not a day had passed by since we had last been together.

In that one brief moment, I completely understood what a mother's love is all about, and as I am sure Emma and Harold would have hoped for, my husband and I took Jeremy to come live with us, right where he will again know a mother's love.

© 2004 Dori-The-Dreamer
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