A Brand New Day

by Robin Ehrlichman Woods

Winner of the Starting Over Contest, from our 9/6 Issue. 

How many times have you thought, If I only had a chance to live my life over, I’d change so many things? 

In my case, I was 23 years old when I was born; way past my due date but prematurely embarking on a new life. It was my second time around, as all vestiges of the old me vanished. Recovering from Post Traumatic Marriage Disorder after a bitter divorce, I had left my former husband with only the clothes on my back, my purse, and a four-foot tall red carved Buddha statue. If I had known that he would throw out  all my mementos and family photos, my irreplaceable treasures would join my meager possessions. I had to leave quickly, or I would have been dead. That was certain. By saving my life, my former existence was erased forever as I had the chance to start over. Change is not easy for me and moving on without a history was wrenching. The previous four years had been difficult, especially after the sudden death of my mother. I had become a motherless child as I coped with becoming a new Me. I was on my own, walking a tightrope without a net. Who would catch me if I fell?

I didn’t move far, only an hour or so away from home, but it might as well have been another planet. My birth certificate and diplomas weren’t hard to replace, but my heart aches over having nothing to show for my infancy, early-childhood, or teen years. I’ll never sit with my children on my lap, poring over albums of sepia toned photographs as we laugh about goofy hairdos and dated clothes worn by me, Grandma and Grandpa. I can’t pass on my baby blanket, high school pin or wedding dress. However, I have been able to make my children understand that losing everything you own isn’t the same thing as losing the ones you love.

I met and married a wonderful man a few years later, a relationship which lasts until this day. I have two beautiful children who fill my heart with love and pride. Perhaps I’ve been a bit excessive about taking weekly photos of us, cataloging them in albums and dated boxes. I save birthday cards, handmade gifts and notebooks from all the years of my children’s schooling. I want them to have a past; not just the present.

Starting over is daunting, but it made me stronger. I wish that I could say I didn’t make the same mistakes twice, but that’s human nature. I do know that expensive cars, pricey jewelry and stately homes can’t compare to seeing the face of my mommy one more time, or showing my daughter that I, too had crazy curly hair, wore glasses and corrective shoes. My mind is full of pictures of the past, the only place where my early years exist.

THE END