Wednesday, September 16, 2009


Ever since the day Rojo was born, I knew his story was a story I was born to tell, and so for 13 years I've been trying to figure out a way to tell it. I've started umpteen times to write a book. I've blogged. I've journaled. I've talked the ears off of friends.

My dear, sweet, wise editor and friend said, "The reason you can't write his story, is that he's still living his story."

She was right.

This summer was a weird one for Rojo, and for me. He got braces. He turned 13. And I think for the first time, he's become aware that he's different. He's cleaved to people, comfort items and rituals from the past, as though his life depended on it, which I'm sure to some degree, it did. It does.

Labor Day Weekend he developed some weird swollen eyelid thing. Allergies? Infection? Something really awful? My mind went straight to worse case scenario, and I became completely obsessed. "My eyes are just swollen from all the crying," he said, when I asked him if they hurt.

You see he's been crying easily, too. He's cried more in the last three months, than he has in the last ten years.

Something deep within him is shifting. It's more than puberty. It's more than the trauma of braces. It's more than just becoming aware of his differences.

He's not who and what he was.

He's not who or what he will become.

He's in transition.

And for the first time I'm starting to really get that "his" story isn't even about him, it's about me. It's about the power and force of being his mother.

Now maybe that story will allow itself to be written.


Go Mama said...

Oh, Awesome! I smell the inklings of a breakthrough!!

The abundance of potential is lurking all around...

cheryl said...

Ah, Mary at work?

Sometimes in writing all we need is a different angle, a shift in perception.

Anonymous said...

It sounds like you are in transition as well!

Lola said...

awesome xxx

Anonymous said...

I love reading your stories

Anonymous said...


Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

Yes! Beautiful revelation!

jess wilson said...

his story - your story - is one of my favorites.

i can't wait to see what form it takes.

Jerri said...


Swear to hell. Just COL here.

Deb Shucka said...

A new landscape being revealed for you both. Your expression of it is brilliant. Love.

Wanda said...

I am speechless. Wow.

kario said...

Ooh, ooh, ooh. I am going to have to read this post over and over again. This one is one that's getting printed out and put on my office wall. This is one that is going to come back to me whenever my kids are transitioning and I will (once again) thank you and Rojo for helping me through a tough time.

Damn, you guys are good!!

Kathryn said...

Oh, yes, Carrie, you hit the nail on the head! It's about you. I get that so deeply. I feel that way about my own son's story.

Where he is, is temporary. The swollen eyelids from crying, my heart just broke for him.

But, turning 13 is a double whammy too. It's not easy, but transitions rarely are.


Nancy said...

Every Rojo story is a story of you as well and the amazing love that threads through the two of you. They are, by far, my favorite stories to read and I will be first in line for a book!