A Song for Michael

Raven, What a nice thing to do. I don't know this song, but the lyrics resonate with me, so I'll take the time to find it. Sorry to hear your health is bothering you--hope you feel more yourself soon. Soprano

Soprano, I thank you for replying from the bottom of my heart. So many times, the birthfathers are left out of the conversations here on the forums. So many birthmoms just remember the pain of going thru their pregnancies alone. They sometimes forget the wonderful qualities that drew us to these men. Michael and I lost our son basically because of the war in Vietnam. We had gone steady for two years before I conceived our son. When I became pregnant, I had just been released from a 24-hour school, a polite term for a private reform school here in California. Mike had deserted from the Army; he was 21 years old. My juvenile probation officer, who strangely enough is now my best friend and nearest neighbor (long story), told me she was obligated as a law-enforcement officer to have him arrested if we tried to marry. And she told me that if I tried to leave the state to marry Michael (we were going to go to Yuma, Arizona, to get married) that I would be arrested for probation violation and sent to the California Youth Authority. If I was sent to CYA, our child would automatically be placed into foster care, an option that was totally unacceptable to me. Either my mom or probation officer, I'm not sure which one, filed statutory rape charges against Michael. I told him to leave San Diego and that we would marry when I turned 18. I really thought that things would be okay, that we would have our little boy. I didn't foresee how the pregnancy itself with everything it entailed would drag my spirit down by the ninth month. I just couldn't fight everybody anymore, and I gave up. Mike never forgave himself for not standing up to my mother and the juvenile probation department. What he never was able to understand is we didn't stand a chance. They were never going to let us be together and be parents to our son. Michael married another woman the year following our son's birth. They had three children, and I can tell you that he was a fantastic father to them. When he died, his youngest, a girl, was 16 years old. I took our son to his funeral, and I have never in my life seen so many people at a funeral. There had to be at least 600 or 700 people in attendance. This man, who had been so messed up as a youngster, had redeemed himself in society's eyes. His funeral was covered by all the major TV stations in San Diego, as well as the newspapers. And I honor him today. He is our son's father. Some people may deny that and call him a "birthfather". But he loved our boy and would have stepped up to the plate if he had half a chance. Adoption is not always a simple issue, is it? It's easy to find fault in birthparents, unless or until you get to know them and their stories.

Raven, Wow. What a lovely and compelling story. No wonder you want to honor him with the song lyrics you posted. It helps to hear that not all bfathers are the bad guys. I don't know if it would have made it easier or harder had mine been that way. Soprano

RavenSong My goodness.. Such terrible times.. thank you for sharing more about what happened Raven.. Jackie

just read this incredible piece of your story, raven. my heart goes out to you and to michael wherever he may be... i've never heard this song and because the lyrics are so beautiful i'm going to try to find it online...thank you for sharing them and your story. ps: it's really true, your quote, about what doesn't break you making you stronger. i think your strength and compassion towards others on this site is inspirational

Dear VJ, Thank you so much for the compliment. I find myself giving out parts of my story in piecemeal fashion, rather than all at once, here on the forums. Maybe it has something to do with whatever my internal demons are at the time. I'm glad you're looking up Nanci Griffith's music. I know that Amazon has a lot of "previews" of her songs, which you can listen to thru your computer speakers. A lot of her music, especially her earlier work, resonates with me. She's really into all the Southern authors, many of whom speak of dark places, grief, love, family, relationships...it shows up in her own music. :rockband:

Dear Raven, Hey there! I am just catching up to this thread. Somehow I'd missed it which is a pity because it's an amazing thing. First and so very important, my sympathies to you; not only in the loss of Michael but in the loss of the dreams you both shared. Such tumultuous times for you; caught between the lies? the self-deception? (I don't even know what to call it). But caught between the old guard and the new change coming. And you and your young love; full of hope for the future. This is a tragic story you relate. :-( How many others were destroyed by the upheaval of those times? I have often wondered if in some way a lot of us bmoms paid the price for those changes. I hope that makes some kind of sense. Something I wanted to share which I know you will understand......Last year my husband did something for me. He took me to the Wall. I had wanted to go for years, ever since Jan Scruggs first okayed the design for it. I can remember the Gold Star Mothers sending out requests for donations. Finally, last year I got to take my youngest daughter there, I got to trace the names of some guys I'd known who were older than me but had died over there. I have never been to such a silent place as The Wall. It was indescribeable really. And here is a sad thing. Before the Wall, back in I think 1972, a man here in Michigan built a memorial to his son who'd been KIA in Vietnam. Anyway he and his wife went on vacation after the memorial was erected and when they came back they found all sorts of notes tacked to the memorial in every concievable way. Notes from parents (paraphrasing here). In memory of my son John killed in action 1967 Kon Tum Province Over that year hundreds of such notes appeared on this man's memorial. I don't know if that's where Jan Scruggs got his inspiration but I never forgot the story. Some forty plus years further on, the Michigan memorial is still there and has it's own highway sign telling people how to get to it. Those times and the unbelievable changes they brought about. And we were all caught up in it like flotsam on the ocean. Better days to you my dear friend Raven. :-) Janey BOB DYLAN

Janey, those were indeed turbulent times, my friend. And Bobby was right when he sang, "The Times They Are A-Changin'." I was a student organizer in high school for the War Resistance League (WRL) and a member of the San Diego Coalition to Stop the War. I joined the Youth International Party (yes, I was a YIPPIE) for a short while, until I became disillusioned with some of the tactics that were being advocated. Those days were turbulent, tumultuous, confusing, fun, intense, had so much potential. I think we made some change...at least I hope so. I'm just sorry that we lost so many good people along the way...too many funerals. I saw the traveling version of The Wall in 1986 at Rose Hills Mortuary Park in Whitter, CA, when I buried my grandmother. I know what you mean by the silence...it was a silence like no other. I etched the engraving of a friend's name, too. And I remembered the 6-hour phone call he made to me the night before he left for 'Nam. I played him all my albums, and we talked about everything and nothing at the same time. I had a strange feeling he wasn't coming back...

I remember going to New York city on a training thing.. this was before the war made headlines.. There was a fellow there that I met.. and he had just come back from Viet Nam.. and he told me that they were killing people over there.. This was 1963.. I will never forget that man.. that fellow.. that young man.. I knew I was pregnant.. then.. I just knew.. I can remember telling a woman that was rooming with me.. in a hotel where they had that training thing.. Dylan.. When I tuned in and dropped out.. I can remember hearing.. For What its Worth.. Buffalo Springfield.. SomethingӒs happening here.. what it is aint exactly clear.Ҕ Jackie