More About Chick

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Chick is the nickname bestowed upon me in the early 70s by my mom and her two youngest sisters.  One sister was born within a few days of my parents getting married in 1956 and the other sister was born 5 weeks before I was born in 1957.

My dad was stationed in Germany in the Army at the time, my mom had joined him and I was born in Munich. They came back home when I was 6 months old. I don’t have dual citizenship, since my dad was in the Army, I was designated as an American citizen, born abroad. My birth certificate has an extra document from the Secretary of State with a big red ribbon declaring me a US citizen.  Makes me special, right?  Not really, but I can always think so.

When my parents came home, my mom met her youngest sister and her two sisters and I were pretty much raised together in those early years. A bond was formed between the three of us early on. About the time we started school, my grandmother moved to a small town on the North Shore.  Although we were no longer physically close, over the years we did get to spend time together with family visits and I would go stay with them on the North Shore for a few weeks in the summer.

As we entered our teens, our time together was less about playing together and more about exploring the outside world of the late sixties and early seventies.  One of our collective memories is of my dad driving us through Duluth while we were literally hanging out the windows ogling any guy we saw that we considered a “hunk.” I’m sure my dad was having the time of his life with us😂.  During this time, girls were called chicks.  We adopted the term and started calling each other Chick.  One day, I had the audacity to call my mom Chick instead of Mom.  She didn’t get upset, she just called me Chick right back.  To this day I don’t think my mom and her sisters ever called me by my given name again, just Chick.

When Alice and I joined forces, I told her the story of my family nickname and we came to the conclusion that I would adopt Chick as my road name and she adopted Alice as her road name.  Her story, I won’t tell it here.

As we started on this journey, the reaction of others to a 67 year old woman, temporarily disabled due to chronic pain and everything that goes with it, was that I was a fluffy chick and wondered what the hell I was doing, thinking I could do this 50-state motorcycle ride in the condition I was in.  Those that don’t know me well and even some that do, wonder.

Well, I’m here to tell you that Chick is not a fluffy baby chicken.  Chick is a name bestowed upon me by three women that were there in the beginning for me and throughout my life.  I’m proud of the woman I have become and their unconditional love and support are a big part of that.  They know who I was and who I’ve grown to be.  They know that I’m capable of being successful at what I put my mind to and their unwavering love and support fuels me.  I am proud to carry on the legacy of the name they bestowed on me.

This March the sister that was a year older than me passed away.  Although she’s left this world, she’s always in my heart and I know she’s cheering me on.  The name I’ve adopted is a heartfelt reminder of who I was and who I am today.  No fluffy baby here.  No, this is a Chick that still has life to live and a mission to accomplish with Alice.