Life means different things to different people. We all came into this world for different reasons and our motivations in life are different. Many people are motivated by the idea of success or financial security. Others are motivated out of necessity. Some are self-motivated by the idea of wanting the best grades, or to be the best at a sport or in our career field. Others are motivated by their faith or by their family members. Most of us are motivated by a combination of these things.
Family, above all else, is what motivates me. When things become difficult and I need a reason to continue working hard and striving to do my best I am reminded of the sacrifices my parents have made in order for me to be in the position I’m in today.
When my mother discovered she was pregnant with me in 1997, she had just ended her relationship with my biological father. When he learned she was pregnant he offered to pay for her abortion and said she could move back in if she had the abortion. The financial stability and the chance to start the career she’d been working for was tempting, but she knew ending my life wasn’t worth any temporary financial relief or meaningless career.
She left my biological father for good, finding herself three months pregnant, homeless, unemployed and in a rocky relationship with her mother and sister. Any family she had to speak of was in Oklahoma. Her friends were all in New Mexico. She was alone and scared in Utah.
She managed to scrape together enough money to afford a plane ticket back to New Mexico and one of her friends, Liz, graciously let her stay on the couch of her apartment for a few months while she worked two jobs to build up her savings account. After that, she and Liz got a two bedroom apartment and Liz helped my mom make preparations for me. This was around the same time that my mom started getting frequent phone calls and visits from a man she had gone to college with, Bill, who was four years her junior.
My mom had no interest in dating with a baby on the way, but Bill was relentless with his phone calls, practically begging for a date. Finally, when I was three months old, my mom agreed to a date on the condition that she could bring me along. They fell in love almost instantly and Bill dropped out of college to marry my mom, and take on the role of a father for me. I was a year and a half old when they eloped in a little town in Northwestern Arkansas. Six months after that my mom had another baby, my sister Audrey, and my dad’s job relocated us from Albuquerque to Denver. My parents were heartbroken to leave Albuquerque but they knew the sacrifice would give them more money to give my sister and I the lives they wanted us to have.
My dad worked long hours. He left around 6 A.M. every morning and returned home long after I had gone to bed, working over 80 hours a week. My mom worked part-time jobs whenever she needed to, sometimes working several at once. About once a week, my sister and I would be eating dinner and we would realize my parents were drinking water but weren’t eating with us. They claimed they weren’t hungry.
“Oh I’m too full from my big lunch. I couldn’t eat a bite.” They would say. It took us years to realize they couldn’t afford food for all four of us.
Slowly but surely my dad climbed the corporate ladder and was moved from commission to salary. We were able to all eat every meal and we weren’t missing bills every month. When my mom discovered she was pregnant with my brother Liam we were forced to move into a bigger house. Our two bedroom, one bathroom could no longer fit our growing family.
When I turned 18 I asked my dad if he would adopt me. An adult adoption is hardly more than a title but it meant everything to us. My mom, dad and I drove to the courthouse and proudly signed the papers, changing my dad’s title from “legal guardian” to “father.” Then we went out for a huge sushi lunch—my dad’s and my shared favorite.
My parents continued to work hard to pay off their debts, and provide for our family. They’ve made quite a name for themselves. In the 18 years since we relocated to Denver, my dad has been promoted from car salesman, to finance manager, to sales manager, to director of used car sales, to director of new car sales and finally to general manager of his store. My mom started her graduate program in 2016 and graduates with her Master’s in Special Education this July. They can finally do things for themselves and have a flexible income to spend on themselves, but still, the many sacrifices cannot be forgotten.
Anytime I felt like quitting my swim team I would think of my mother, with a nearly empty belly, nursing my sister to make sure she had the nourishment she needed to grow. The many times I considered not auditioning for a school play or musical I would think of my father, with a worn out body and eyes, dull from exhaustion, staying up late teaching me how to read my music scores. The many times I thought of giving up on a school assignment and taking a zero, I thought of my ragged parents, barely in their late 20s, with the hands of 80-year-olds, crawling around on the floor to play dolls with us, singing to us, hunched over us in the computer room helping us with senior projects and college applications.
So even though I’m motivated by my faith, by my competitive nature and by my desire to succeed, above all else I’m motivated by my family. My mother left the safety net of a relationship and financial security behind to give me life, my father left behind the world he knew in college and the guarantee of a college education to raise me as his own. They each made sacrifices every single day to give me the best life I could imagine, and though there will never be a way that I could properly thank them, striving for a life and family that reflect their love might be enough.
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