Silent Hero

By Susan Silver

        Jessica Lynch. Pat Tillman. Tommy Hamill. Everyone loves a hero. Nobody knows this more than the media.

        But there’s another hero among us. A silent one. One who won’t be grabbing headlines anytime soon. But what she has done deserves the same respect and recognition that our war heroes have earned. Perhaps more so.

        Lauren made a life choice that can only be described as bravery at its finest.

        Things had started to look up for her over the past year. She’d been fighting an uphill battle against private demons for decades, but she’d begun to face them with courage. Her life became peopled with social workers, counselors, and support groups. A new job and a new love in her life rounded out her progress, and you could see the strides she’d made just by looking at her.

        What you couldn’t always see is how Lauren keeps everything to herself—her emotions, her fears, and her struggles. Sometimes this tendency muddies the solid gold which makes up her heart.

        She was an athletic child, winning all types of awards. She was a tomboy, and everyone loved her. Especially her father. She basked in the glow of his adoration. She was only 13 when he died, and that’s when the tide started to turn.

        Adolescence is never easy, but add to it the grief of losing a beloved parent and you have a recipe for disaster. Especially if you keep emotions bottled up, never having learned how to release them. She was ripe for the typical teenage temptations—smoking, drinking, and experimenting.

        High school was a struggle for her. She tried college, but studying wasn’t her strong suit. She was always a hard worker, though, so she chose to enter the workforce and she’s never looked back.

        She dated a man in her mid 20s, and she became pregnant. Against most people’s advice, she had the baby boy and lived at home with her parents . The little guy was cherished and raised by the three of them.

        Life became a cycle of turbulence and peace, with turbulence mostly winning out. Years went by, and trouble followed. Deeper and deeper she fell, until the bubble of her life burst. She moved out of her parents’ home, leaving her now teenage son in the hands of his grandparents

        I‘m not sure if she hit rock bottom, but she was close. Once on her own, she fought for her survival. The system lent a helping hand, and she’s been ascending ever since.

        As Lauren started to get on her feet, she met a new man. She got a new job. Finally, the puzzle pieces of her life started to fit back together.

        A few weeks ago, I learned she was pregnant. She was due in June, and had decided to give the baby up for adoption. While it’s true Lauren was turning her life around, she felt she was in no position to care for a baby and raise a child. The father felt the same.

        The awe this decision inspired is bone deep. After all, they did have another choice. Not an option I believe in, but another option nonetheless. It would have been so easy for Lauren to take this route. She could stay in her comfort zone, keep the pregnancy to herself, and no one would ever know.

        Instead, she chose the most difficult path imaginable. She chose to face her reality and do the right thing, excruciating as she knew it would be.

        Last Monday I got the call. Lauren went into labor early and delivered a tiny baby girl. Premature, but healthy.

        My mind switched to one track as I prepared to visit mother and child. I simply had to see and hold this baby who was born into the world in the most loving of ways. This baby who would forever be blessed with two mothers.

        I walked into the hospital room and everything I’d ever known before vanished. I was in the presence of greatness. All I could see was this tightly wrapped bundle of preciousness, being cradled by a mother who chose to forsake her own needs for those of the life she now held in her arms.

        In a matter of days, she would release her into the arms of the parents who’ve been waiting years for this day.

        Until then, she’d be held and changed and fed by a mother who will love her forever.

        A mother who is nothing short of a hero.

        A mother who is my sister.

Susan Silver can be reached at ssilver@comcast.net.