Deborah and Michael 
Deborah and Michael
I miss you every day. I wrote this in your memory. This event reminds me of how strong our bond is. It can never be broken. I feel you in all I do. I know you with me and always will be. I pray I make you proud. I endeavor to be half the amazing human being you were. I will never succeed in being as good a person as you were. I will try. I Love you to the moon and back, and all the stars I can carry. Love, M.
I was born to Michael and Deborah a very small Texas town. They were each other’s first love and married in their early twenties. This was the end of the hippie era. Disco was in now. Mom had long black hair to her waste parted in the middle. She had dark olive skin with faint undertones of red as she is American Indian. My father was a brunette with messy curly hair that he grew past his ears. He loved to run marathons and have adventures. They wanted so desperately to have a baby together, but the doctor told mom it would never be possible for her to have children. She was baren. It broke mom’s heart, she wanted more than anything in the world to be a mother. She accepted the diagnosis and went on with life. Dad and mom began to struggle as all young couples do, but dad buckled under the stress and ended up having an affair. He was young. I feel nothing negative toward my dad.
Mom left him and shortly after became ill. She went to the doctor to find out what was wrong with her. The doctor was as shocked as mom was when he gave her the results of the tests. She was pregnant. There was no logical reason for her to be. The pregnancy went against all that was known in medicine at the time but here she was contravene of all that and was pregnant anyway. Mom never, outside of her pregnancy with me, got pregnant one time. She did not experience even a miscarriage as mom could not have children. I should not be here.
She told me before her death she was so happy to find out I was in her stomach growing. I cry now thinking of the young her looking down at her stomach, and feeling love for her unborn child for the 1st time. She said that she chose to go back to my dad for me. She did not want me born into a broken family. This is how it was done in those days. Things did not go well. Dad was young and doing wild things. He continues to have illicit meetings, and frankly just being young. Mom did not tell me this until she was on her death bed. She did not once until that day speaks anything negative about my father. She was an amazing mother. My father told me later in my early twenties about it. He expressed sorrow and remorse and wish he could change things. I love my dad very much. He meant no harm I know.
Just three days shy of Valentine’s day. I found a ripped up valentines in a book later from the day I was born. She delivered me naturally and I was born on February 11th at 6:36 am. Mom had been told I would be a boy because of my heartbeat but ignored everyone and bought girl clothes anyway. There is not one person in my family that has blond hair and blue eyes. Not a single one. They are all dark hair and brown eyes. Here I came with blond air and striking blue eyes. My mother told me she prayed so many times for a baby. When she did, she prayed for a blond hair and blue-eyed little girl. I believe mom wished me here.
Mom and dad split not long after my birth. Mom did her best to care for me. She was alone. Dad was young, he was in and out of the picture. He did the best he could with what he knew and had at the time. Mom had assorted boyfriends in and out. One of them had us with him in his pickup truck one night. he had his motorcycle strapped down in the back of the pickup. We did not have to wear seat belts back then. I was asleep in my mother’s lap. As mom told it, she said that it was a case of road rage that caused that near-fatal wreck. Another car had cut her boyfriend off and made him angry. He had sped up and slammed on his breaks in front of the other car. He was top-heavy from the bike in the back. So when he slammed on his breaks at 80 mph we began to flip end over end, over the freeway median into the other side of oncoming traffic. Mom said she had leaned down over me to try and shield me.
What I recall is this; I wake suddenly to a cold blast of air, horns honking and crunching metal. I feel mom’s body pulling away from me. I can see the truck flying over our head, and I hear mom hit the pavement with a sickening thud and slide sound. I see bits of it as I also hit further out in front of her and begin rolling and bouncing on the pavement as I ricochet into the oncoming cars. I was calm. I was not afraid. It goes dark here. I believe I was knocked unconscious.
I come around but I am wandering down the highway with the headlights of cars in my eyes and horns honking people are yelling. “Where is my mommy!? I want my mommy!” I begin to cry. I am scared now. A man is talking to me asking me what my name is and leaning down. He is the paramedic. He picks me up and puts me in the ambulance. My mother is there. Everything is red. blood is flowing down my face. My mother……is asleep with blood everywhere. She won’t wake up. “Mommy wake up! Please, mommy, I am scared!” I cry. Then the ambulance driver is looking back at me saying something trying to calm me down. They are pressing on her chest and doing stuff to her mouth. Her chest rises but then stops. She won’t wake up! why won’t she wake up!? I reach down and shake her. I am beside myself now in sobs. No one can console me. Suddenly her chest rises without them putting things in her mouth. Her eyes flutter open. She sleepily looks at me as she hears me crying. She reaches for me. I reach back and touch her hand. I want my mother. We briefly make contact at that moment and she is gone again. I watched my mother die three more times in front of me and be brought back. The biggest reason was that the first hospital we got to refuse care because we did not have insurance. The second one took us.
It is thought that when my mother bent down to shield me, she took most of the hit when we went thru the windshield. The impact caused hemorrhaging in her head. when she hit the pavement she sustained damage to internal organs. She was in hospital for 3 weeks. I was three years old. When the paramedics found me, I did not have a scratch on me, except for one cut over my right eye. My angel that day was mom, but there was something else with me. I felt them in the ambulance. I felt them on the road. I felt them as I flew thru the air. What’s more, is I heard his voice directing me where to walk as I wandered down the freeway. He kept me from getting run over. His voice was distinct. I have heard it two other times in my life. I believe it to be my guardian angel Michael. I named him after my father. Thank you Michael, and thank you, daddy. I know you did the best you could, and I love you very much.
left Deborah, center Jerry paternal grandmother, right Maddox age 8 
left Deborah, Center Mickey step father, Right Maddox age 12 
Maddox age 15
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