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CHAKOTAYS SWEATER by Shannon Janeway
One day some friends and I were discussing our favorite gifts. My favorite gift includes some of my precious memories.
My parents met in an unusual way. He was wanted by Starfleet and was hiding in the Badlands. What he wasn’t aware of, he had one of my mother’s oldest friend’s on his ship collecting information. My mother was given command of a ship named Voyager. She was sent to capture my father and they ended up trapped in the Delta Quadrant, 70,000 light-years from home.
My parents found a soul mate in each other. No one loves my mother the way my father does. No one loves my father the way my mother does. I could see the way they looked at each other, touched each other, silently communicated, and commanded their crew. I knew there was never going to be anyone who could love me as my parents did.
They enjoy the sound of each other’s voices. They love to speak to each other about all sorts of things. They never bring work home, that’s what their Starfleet offices are for. They make sure they are 100% my parents in our home, which isn’t always easy. They never raise their voices in my presence, although I have given them reason. I can tell them anything I want and never fear not being heard.
They spent 7 years in the DQ. They depended on each other, leaned on each other, and blended the two crews. There were so many First Contacts, new discoveries, stories and battles. They came home with an extremely devoted crew. When I was born, people told me I had 150 Aunts and Uncles. They weren’t even close. I had 150 Sisters and Brothers. I wasn’t able to get away with anything!
My father found a sweater that my mother loves to wear. She can snuggle in it as she sits in her favorite chair. When I was young, she would put the sweater on, sit me in her lap and wrap me close like a gift. She would tell me stories of her family, her time on Voyager, how she met my father. When he was away for one reason or another, she would wrap us in the sweater and tell me Papa was sending me hugs.
I’ve always been extremely careful with my mother’s sweater. She told me that my father gave it to her on Voyager. The sweater and I had something in common. It was a precious gift from him, as was I. My warmest memories of my childhood are sitting in the safety of my mother’s arms, wrapped in the sweater. Listening to their voices, telling stories, teaching lessons. I could feel their love and I was safe.
My parents are my favorite gift.