Undaunted Joy #41

Hard to Get By Just Upon a Smile

As a child, I had buck teeth. Like, bad. My front teeth jutted out so badly, I could not close my lips without my teeth protruding. It wasn’t just that I had a horrid overbite, the teeth were all over the place. Like Welsh rock walls, where slate is piled against each other without a flush face, just rustic cut edges. That’s what my teeth looked like up close.

We were poor. Money was needed for more practical things like food and cars that wouldn’t break down every few weeks.  And yet….my mother decided that my teeth were a priority. She took on house cleaning jobs to pay for braces for during middle school.

I knew these braces were a huge luxury item and that each month my mother had to send a heft check to the orthodontist. I made certain to do everything they told me to do---and more. If I was to wear rubber bands in my mouth for 8 hours a day; I’d wear them for 12. And if my headgear was to be on the last notch; I’d tighten it to the second to last notch.  Yes, I still have nightmares about that. But I was determined to finish the treatment quickly. Especially before high school, where I’d move from a small 300 student K-8^th , to a mega campus of 5,000 high schoolers.

And I did. I finished my orthodontal treatment in 18 months. In my 8^th grade picture, I am smiling with my teeth showing for the first time in years.

Neither of my mother or I knew how perfect the timing had been.  If she had waited longer or if I had not been such a good patient, the orthodontal care would have become negligent as 8^th grade was the year my mother finally had enough of my father’s intoxication, abuse and philandering. She kicked him out and by the end of junior high, they were divorced.

I had a vibrant smile just in time---for I’d have to learn to use it.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, as I am working on an essay on smiling. This story is not part of the essay, but it is part of my smile story. It is part of why I smile so much.

The joke in the family was “Mom cleaned toilets for those straight teeth!” Which was funny because it was true. It was the kindest, best and more sacrificial gift my mother ever gave me.