I stumbled across this aphorism, a saying you might hang on your fridge or place on the bumper of your car:
Having a son turns a new page in a woman’s story of life. Life can sometimes be hard, cruel, and confusing, especially to women. However, the existence of the son brings the reason and courage they need to cope with any difficulty.
If only. There are some difficulties not even a son can mitigate. I suspect this saying was cribbed from the bible. There is no shortage of illusions to the son, prodigal and otherwise.
The one thing in Patty’s life I am sure she wanted to get right was being a mother. I’m imagining at the time she died she was in in a life and death battle, trying to provide stability and nurturing, trying to get off drugs, off the streets, trying to be a good parent. She would have put her son, Maurice, first. I picture her not having given up on herself, but fighting to save herself, if only for her son.
I can’t help think of my own mother, and her glaring lack of healthy parenting from her mother and father. She was going to parent me right if it meant sacrificing her own wants and desires. I want to imagine Patty Vance as that selfless. She couldn’t find a way to get the love that she needed in her life, but I bet she damn well made sure that her kid knew he was loved.
I only know his name because of the obituary in the San Francisco Examiner that listed Patty’s closest to kin. I tried to find him through social media to no avail. I don’t know what I would say to Maurice Vance if I did find him, except that he was the one good, pure thing in her life.
There must be an explanation for why a woman or girl would choose to have a child when she is clearly ill-prepared for parenthood. It can give her a reason to carry-on in life when maybe before parenthood reasons were hard to come by. Being able to love someone well can fill that hole when there is no one around to love you. That’s my my theory. That’s my gut speaking.
