April 18, 2037: Introduction to the Family
It is my 38th birthday. I woke up this morning to a strangely quiet house in the middle of Seattle, Washington. My wife more than likely forgot that it was my birthday; dates are not really her thing. The children are just exactly that, children. They simply do not remember these type of things. I gave our twenty year old dog Lucy a small pat, she is fragile now of days. Poor thing. I got out of bed and slumped towards the bathroom. I opened the colorful case to my new smart lens contact case. When I was seventeen I read an article by Lisa Raffensperger and the smart lens were developed by Google's secretive Google X arm, the initial prototype is designed to monitor glucose for diabetics. It sports a tiny sensor that measures glucose in tears and an antenna that wirelessly transmits the data to a connected device. When I was thirteen, I never would have thought something like this would exist.
I slipped out of the bedroom, still in my pajamas with my long, red hair braided down my back. I padded downstairs in my purple, fuzzy slippers and as I rounded the corner I was attacked with love from my three, beautiful children along with my best friend, Casey.
“Happy birthday, Mommy,” they shouted as their small arms went around my neck.
My oldest child, Gabrielle, set a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of me with thirty-eight candles as my best friend laughed and hugged me.
“You don’t look a day over 30.” Casey winked and gave me a small peck on the cheek. My oldest daughter came up behind me and she kissed the top of my head and hugged me,
“Happy birthday, Mom.” She whispered softly.
I smiled at this not just because the gesture was sweet, but because my family actually remembered what today was. I rubbed her arm and kissed her cheek.
“Thank you, baby.” I replied and then clapped my hands excitedly.
“When do I get to eat these babies?” I shout.
My wife shook her head admiringly and laughed.
“You have always wanted to rush to the food part of things,” she looked at our children, “Ready? 1, 2, 3!”
They all chorused together in a happy and off tune version of Happy Birthday; even Lucy seemed to have gotten into it.
After breakfast and the kids went off to school, I began to search for a new job online. I was let go from my previous position due to a new policy they had, it was required that I was to have a college diploma. I dropped out of college when I was twenty-one because of mounting student loans. When I was younger, I had a feeling this would happen. I scrolled aimlessly through job search websites with no luck. My wife came back down the stairs and sat at the table with me.
“Any luck, today?” She asked while pouring herself a cup of coffee.
I shook my head slightly and closed the lid to my laptop.
“Same as yesterday, nothing.” I sighed and laid my head down on the table.
I was exhausted. It really was not this hard and difficult to find a job when I was seventeen. I was baffled at how impossible it seemed to find a job now. I tried so hard but it seemed no matter where or how I attempted to find a job, it was nearly impossible. My wife, bless her heart, she tries as hard as she can. With all the worldwide issues going on, America just seemed to fall apart. After Trump’s reign, he basically destroyed us and people have had to stay in their own bubble. That’s also when the Latin American countries crime rates went up. They weren’t allowed to leave so they went mad. Gang rates went up and the violent outbursts became more apparent. Everything just seems so surreal.
Exhaustingly, we sat at the table and listened to the news. I have become obsessed with watching the news lately and I always tune in to see how much things have changed and what crazy crimes have been committed this week. As I watch, I began to notice that they were speaking about the bombing at the White House. I pushed the volume up button on the remote and listened closely. “America is no longer great, folks. Today two bombs went off inside the White House. Whoever managed to accomplish this had to be close to the staff or even the President himself.” The world has become so daft. Which made me wonder about my kids and if they were going to be okay.
My youngest child, Michael, sat on the floor and played with his toys quietly as I pondered the future of my family. He giggled at his big truck as it made noises and lit up. It was unusual for him to play with his toys this time of day, he usually played with Rosie’s toys while she was at school.
Somewhere a long time ago, I read an article about how toys can affect a child’s concept of gender roles. We as adults, consider gender categories to be a subordinate construct that incorporates basic gender identity and the categorization of others, both male and female. However, lucky for my kids I could care less about the genders they were assigned. Unconditional love is all I show my children.
Since I was 17, gas prices have soared and the price of a hamburger is through the roof. My seven year old, Rosie, asked me if she could have five dollars to buy a bottle of water at school. Needless to say, I told her we’d be letting her take a reusable water bottle to school from now on. She’s not too pleased with me, but with those prices who can blame me. The stock market of today in America is devastating, not many people have the extra money to invest anymore.
My wife is lawyer and I am currently a stay at home parent. My days consist of waking up, eating breakfast with my kids, get us ready to leave the house, get my wife’s lunch ready, send her on her way, and after getting them all out the door, I sit and relax while making myself a to-do- list for the day. Then start on the dishes, do the laundry, sweep the kitchen, and clean the bedrooms. This is my daily routine, but not today.
Today I am sitting here writing in my journal for the first time in 20 years. I feel like a teenager all over again. My life is nothing how I imagined it would be twenty years later. I’m a mother and a wife to an amazingly, beautiful family. There’s no greater accomplishment than that.
April 18, 2057: Introduction to Pain
I sit in my chair and ponder, I am now fifty-eight years old living in Portland, Oregon. I have no idea where my life has gone or who I am anymore. I have no job because I ended up quitting my job at the factory in 2046 because I lost my oldest daughter, Gabrielle, to an overdose of her ADHD medication. Had I know that a child taking ADHD medication can cause damage to various cells that build up their’s immune system, I would have never given them to her or known that she was in danger because her ADHD medication was actually bad for her.
My best friend, Casey, was sitting with me while knitting a sweater for her cat. She tried to get me into it, but I was more of reader even from a young age as my mama made sure I read everything I could get my hands on.
“You look rough.” She said as she knitted away.
“Thanks.” I played with the edge of my book cover.
All I’ve really done these past few years is sit in my chair and read. By reading, I am able to get away from all the pain I’m in for a short time at least.
“Stevie, you have completely lost it. You’re sitting here wearing an oversized t-shirt with day old sweats. I can tell you have not washed your hair for days and you smell like tears and sadness.”
I looked over at her and said, “You’re not helping.”
“I’m not supposed to. Be thankful it’s me and not Summer.” She shot back.
Summer was my other best friend, she was away on a worldwide trip to visit all the Native American lands. She was Gabby’s godmother, Casey was Rosie’s, and Giccela was Michael’s.
Rosie is twenty-seven now with 2 beautiful children of her own. She married last year to a wonderful man. His name is Lyle, he has the sweetest love for Rosie that I could have asked for. They have moved in together just a couple hours away from my wife and I, and now my little girl has started a life of her own.
Gabrielle had a daughter before she passed. I’m currently fighting my granddaughter, Aleah’s father tooth and nail for her. Laws regarding grandparent visitation are necessary where children are in danger of having their once significant relationship with their grandparents’ ended. Usually grandparents’ do not fight against their own children for custody. However, in my case, that’s essentially what I’m having to do. That could be why I’m so drained.
You would think my wife would help me with this considering all of the law school and politics she has been involved in, but she’s too worried about running for Senate to even think about our loss in a healthy manner. She’s always been that way. When the going gets tough, she checks out.
Michael is just as wild as I was at twenty-one. He still lives with my wife and I. He came out to us when he was sixteen years old. My wife cried and laughed. I just shook my head and smiled. I guess you could call it a mother’s intuition. I knew my son was gay before anyone else. He was constantly teased in school and made fun of. Other parent’s gave my wife and I crazy looks for being lesbians and raising our three children. There was an interview I watched that was an open-ended conversation around the topic of gay-parenting and to freely express and elaborate on any part of their attitudes towards male (male and female) couples parenting children. While I was watching the news the other day I saw where a gay teen gotten beat up by his 12 year old sister for being gay and his parent’s condoned it because that’s how they feel the world is now.
I wish the memories of my family were enough to get me out of this funk. Ever since Gabby died, I just sit and stare out at the backyard that she used to play so freely in. However, those memories just aren’t enough. I just can’t seem to fill the place where my eldest child’s heart will forever lay.
That day my wife came downstairs slowly and sat next to me in her chair.
“Honey,” she whispered softly, “Rosie and the kids are coming over today.” she spoke keeping her tone soft.
I look over at her and gently ask, “What for? Is everyone alright?”
She put her hand on mine, “It’s your birthday.”
I let my head hang low. It’s my birthday? That’s impossible. I just celebrated yesterday. I searched my wife’s eyes.
“Are you sure?” She nodded slowly and rubbed her thumb tenderly across mine.
“I still remember when I first celebrated with you. Even when you were sixteen, you terrified me. You were never like other girls your age.” Brenda said with a happy, far away look on her face.
Suddenly her face fell and she said sadly, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’re going to make yourself sick.”
I can’t handle feeling the loss of my child. It’s been tearing me apart. My wife just doesn’t understand. She’s always been so strong, even while we were younger. She has always had our family’s best interests at heart which is why we moved to Portland in the first place. My wife, my sweet, understanding wife.
I want to come out of this funk, hug her, and tell her how much I love her, how thankful I am that she is trying to keep everything in place. Brenda began crying and held my hands in hers.
“Honey, please just tell me what I need to do in order to get my wife back. I’m so worried about you. This isn’t like you at all, please talk to me.”
I kept staring out into the backyard until I found my voice again. I looked at her and I knew what we had to do in order for me to have any sort of hope of getting through the loss of our child.
I said calmly, “I need to move.” She nodded in understanding.
“I completely agree. If that’s what will bring you back to me - we will move.” I could see her heart swelling with love.
“I think we need to also draw up divorce papers.” She dropped my hands slowly and I could see the heart break on her face.
If I had any hope left, I needed to leave right now. I slowly got out of my chair and for the first time in a long time, I grabbed my bag and left the house that we had shared for many years. How’s that for a birthday. A new house, a new life, a new divorce. I don’t know if I’m ready for this, but it seems to be my only option. I have to give my family the opportunity to still be happy even when I’m ripping apart at the seams.
April 18th, 2077: Introduction to Loss
I’ve been away from my family for twenty years. I’m now 78 years old living in a nursing home in a mountain town in Colorado. Today is my birthday. At least, that is what they tell me.
Casey and Summer come by every now and then and we sit and gossip about the world and how much things have changed. Casey is working in Wal-Mart as a greeter, Summer is still traveling; teaching her grandkids the Native American way.
I have become a shell of who I used to be. The only thing I’ve done that is positive is take up a job as the gardener here for room and board. I sit in the lobby, crossing off words on my crossword puzzle. I heard someone yelling from across the hallway and became curious. I set down my puzzle and pushed up my Smart Lens glasses. The LED lights in the device manage to get rid of the migraines that I have. The bickering seemed to have gotten louder as they wheeled the woman over. This woman glanced at me from the corner of her eye.
“Stevie?” She asked quietly.
“Do I know you?” I replied.
“Brenda.” She said matter of factly.
“No, dear,” I shook my head and as I was walking away I said, “no, I do not.”
So this story was written by my 17 year old daughter. She wrote it for school, but I really felt like it should be shared (I promise I asked her first, no one needs a teenager mad at them for no reason, lol) - I hope you all enjoy the story.
No Pants Required by Mandy Zani
