The angel

Years ago, I was back and forth with my husband and things weren't great. One day he loved me, the next day I had no idea where he was. Not knowing where he was and how long he'd be gone was just something I kinda got used to. Not really, it just sounds good doesn't it?

 We had a daughter, and boy was she a beautiful child. It really looked as if she had fallen from heaven. Such a perfect little creature. I loved that her like nobodies business, except my mother in law's. Yep, I had one of those. The moment we came from the hospital, she grabbed her from my arms, and I swear, I believe she is still there. I didn't know how to feed her right, bathe her right, burp her right...jeez, the list went on. And honestly, battling with her father, it probably worked out best for her. It just felt lousy, seeing my sweet baby girl doted over like that, to a point I became afraid to touch her. I was pushed around, and I would take as much as I possibly could stand, and then, I'd push back. I am sure, mothers out there understand completely.

After a few months of living separate, we decided to try again. Well I am using the word "WE" loosely. He was trying with me, and her, and I think another her. It was a mess. In the midst of it all, I became pregnant. Nope, it wasn't a trap or an ultimatum. In fact, quite the opposite. It completely broke our marital bond.

Now being a single mother of a little girl, and pregnant, my family flipped out. I heard everything to, I'd live in the streets, to I needed to find a man who would marry my quick. The worst one I heard was give the baby up for adoption. Well, I was pretty sure none of those scenarios were going to happen, especially the last one.

I have to tell you something. As bad as the situation was, there was something inside me that knew, this baby was a gift. I knew immediately it was a boy, and picked out his name. The name I picked was the name of someone I loved dearly and lost to suicide and his middle name was my grandfather's. I just knew this baby was somehow going to be a light, a special angel that would ultimately bring so much love into all our lives. I was right.

He was born September 13th, 1989. I didn't have any pain meds, and laughed through the entire birth. Not because it didn't hurt, it was just the only reaction my body would allow. Sounds silly, but all I could do was laugh to think, "I am doing this. I am giving birth to a baby, and that's so stinking cool.". He sprang from my loins at 3pm peeing on everyone. Yep, he gave the entire room a golden shower. (For those of you not familiar with the term, look it up.) But, he was gorgeous.

7 lb.s 3oz. baby boy named Michael Powell. What a beautiful strong name.What a beautiful strong boy. I had done it, all by my self. At least I thought.

As the beautiful Michael Powell grew, he and his sister became closer and closer. She tortured him, and he screamed. Pretty normal stuff for siblings. But they were different. There was a calmness in his eyes, a light. I swear, when he was 3 he was already showing signs of compassion. He would handle his sister with such a tolerance, until she pushed his magical "crazy kid" button. He could go from 0 to 105 in 1 second flat. But he would release his frustration, and then as quick as it happened, it was COMPLETELY over.

His sister loved to drag him everywhere. All of her friends used Mike as a puppet. They would make up plays and dance shows, and he was the one they controlled. He didn't seem to mind, he had a natural ability to flip, roll, do hand stands, and jump higher than kids twice his age. We all thought he had springs in his heels. A natural athlete.

As time went on, she became bitter at the way our lives were, and Michael just hung in there as if there was nothing ever wrong. Mommy was just crazy, and so was life. And yes, I feel terrible about that. I wished nothing more than normalcy for my children, unfortunately, their one biggest downfall, they were born to me.

I have never been the best mother, nor have I ever claimed to be. But the one thing I can tell you without reservation, my children saved me, especially Michael.

When I told you he was born with a light, almost angelic, I wasn't lying. I was chosen to have Michael, just as I was chosen to have my other children. But Michael has been different. He has endured so much, even things I didn't do, and come out on the side of compassion, mercy and love. He never has a bad word to say about anyone or anything, he is a rock. He lights up a room when he walks in, and you feel at peace around him. It is an amazing quality, that I am sure we wish we all had.

Michael Powell has grown into a man now, and a husband, and a father. All three of which he has kinda got a knack for. I am not proud of Michael, I am in awe. All he is, I assure you, is in spite of me.

Remember I told you he was named after someone special to me? Well I have to give credit where credit is due. Michael Reid Ballentine and Powell Locklair are his name sakes. Two of the best men I have ever had the pleasure to know, and still, miss dearly. But fear not Michael and Powell, little Michael is making us all proud, more than anyone could have ever imagined.