For You, Money Grew on Trees and Time Stood Still

October 17, 2002; I had no idea that the birth of one life could drastically suck the soul out of another.

Six-year-old me was overly excited for you to come. I had spent months watching our family prep for your arrival. We had a baby shower, tons of family members over all the time, and lots of shopping... all for you. Now that I think about it, I felt like I was beginning to lose them before you had even arrived. Your mom stopped playing with me. She was sick all of the time. Your dad's focus was all on your mom. Grandma's attention went towards helping your mom and since grandpa didn't have a mind of his own, his focus was wherever grandma's was.

For the past nine months, everything was about you. My birthday was about you. Spring was about you. Summer was about you. The Fourth of July was about you. Labor Day was about you. Everyone's thoughts and energy went towards discussing you. But what were you?

I didn't understand what you were. To me, you were just some blurry black and grey photo that someone showed me. Some mysterious lump in your mom's stomach that prevented her from playing with me. You were invisible but somehow still grabbed all of the attention and love. How did you do that? I'm right here! They can see me, they can touch me... they know me. Little did I know that this lack of attention would be the easiest thing to battle compared to what was to come.

The saying "blood is thicker than water" resonates so much with my childhood. We never got the same treatment and because of this I turned into an envious, insecure child and an hypervigilant adult left with a broken inner self to tame.

Your birthday parties were so extravagant. Filled with expensive character balloons instead of the plain oval balloons, two-tiered cakes made with love from a local bakery instead of having an underpaid, tired worker from a grocery store scribble your wrongly spelled name on a pre-made cake. As you got older your parties went from the backyard to big activities. You had a horse-themed party at Graystone Farm with all of your friends being able to ride horses because the family helped rent out the entire place. Then as you got older the activities, family and friends no longer pleased you. You were on your first plane trip to Florida by the time you hit age thirteen and had a new all-white Camaro sitting in your driveway for your sixteenth. I was curious about you. Tell me your secret please. You didn't have to beg, you didn't have to plead for years, you didn't have to negotiate with "good grades" or a special occasion; you got rewarded for simply existing.

Every day was special for you, not just your birthday. The entire family helped to fund your cheer camps, horseback riding lessons, hip-hop and ballet lessons, modeling career, gymnastics, etc. I had to stick with free public school extracurricular activities because when it came to me all of a sudden everyone in the family had to recover from the '08 recession. Even at a young age I was well aware of free will. I stopped asking for the things that I desired because I was always hit with the "money doesn't grow on trees" speech and even occasionally told to "ask my birth parents to see if they would help." Still to this day I would rather go hungry or live under a bridge than to ask my birth parents for help knowing good and well that they'd come up with every excuse in the "How to be a Neglectful Parent" self-help book over giving the child they abandoned $100.

For you, money grew on trees and time stood still.

Our family had a big oak tree in our backyard ready to be plucked of its green so that you can get whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. If I wanted to dance, I would hop on the newly discovered YouTube and make up a dance to a shitty 720p video that I could barely see. If I wanted to learn about music, my best option was my school chorus teacher that had 100 other students to take care of. If I wanted to enhance my volleyball skills, $300 to join a private club? NO WAY. I played from 7th grade until college with half the time the coach also being my algebra teacher. Your sixteen-year-old self will never know the feeling of getting back on a cold bus in the middle of November after losing a tough game, picking up your cellphone and reading a message from your part-time restaurant job telling you that you're being written up for forgetting to schedule around your game.

There was something about you that everyone preferred. They tried their best to hide it but I felt it. I felt every half hug they gave me while giving you both arms wrapped in value, unconditional love and protection. I felt the love in the air as I walked through the house with a timeline of your photos framed all over the walls.

Baby photos...

Kindergarden photos...

Sports photos...

Vacation Photos...

First date photos...

Prom photos...

Graduation photos...

It was your love, never mine. Your time became my time as I was forced to sit in auditorium after auditorium to watch your recitals, your award ceremonies, your competitions, your graduations, etc. You never heard the words, "I'm too tired" or "Honey, I'm going to have to miss your..." because your time was everyone else's time. Your blood is thier blood and it was a hell of a lot thicker than my water.

For you and only for you, money grew on trees and time stood still.

-Danae O. Tucker, 08/21/2022