When you're raising kids, you don't realize how fast time goes. One day you're bringing home a lttle bundle of joy, then she starts school and you wonder where the years went. Then you turn around and she's a teenager with all the natural angst that comes with it. Next thing you know you're watching her walk down the church aisle in a long white dress. And you think "how did this happen...she was just started school last year, it seems."
I enjoyed raising teenagers. Those transient years between childhood and adulthood are difficult years...both on the kids and their parents. The kids are so eager to grow up and experience life they constantly push the limits. As parents, our job is to set the limits and hold tight ..yet be able and willing to stretch them as our teens mature. Its a hard road to walk for parents..between allowing more freedom than they're mature enough to handle...and being too strict and not allowing them to experience the things that will help them mature.
Tammy and Buddy's teenage years were not easy years. Tammy, especially, pushed the limits constantly. She was one of those kids who are in a hurry to grow up. There was never a curfew she didn't break. Subsequently, she was grounded a lot. She'd be grounded for a week..or two..then a week or sometimes a month later, she'd either come home late or not be where she was supposed to be. And she was grounded again.
During the grounding periods, we got along great. After the first couple of days when she got over sulking about being grounded, her natural sweet, bubby nature would come out and she was a joy to have around. She was always dependable and responsible where taking care of Joey was concerned. In the summers I never had to worry about getting a baby-sitter. Tammy was as good as they come. Some of my sweetest memories are going shopping on Saturdays after our weekly cleaning was done. Just me and Tammy and often, Lori. We'd spend hours at Targets and K-mart in South Bend...and maybe not buy a thing.
Buddy was easier to raise. He obeyed the rules. If his curfew was ten, he was home at ten til ten. And he was fun to be around, always joking and kidding. Where Tammy went through sullen, angry periods, Buddy never did. Oh, he wasn't perfect. He got his share of grounding. I remember once when he was grounded, his friend Mike came over and wanted Buddy to go camping out in the woods over night. I said no. Buddy and Mike went into the kitchen for a few minutes. I was sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room. They came into the living room and Mike said, "Go ahead, Buddy. When nothing else works, suck her big toe." I was laughing so hard I was crying. And as they went out the door, Mike said, "See, I told you. The big toe works every time."
Steve and I were often at odds over how to raise the kids. He believed we should let them go...wherever, whenever they wanted. I would tell him, that was the easy way out..a parent's cop-out. Sure, life would have been easier and happier if the kids were always happy..when they were home...but as parents, we have the responsibility to hold them back from doing things they aren't ready for. Naturally, our differing philosophies didn't help our marriage any.
Steve enjoyed the Saturday nights when they were all home as much as I did. We've had some all night marathon games of Monoply. Buddy and Steve were mad competitors, buying up all the land and hotels while the rest of us just managed to hold on. I've often suspected that Lori deliberately lost first ...out of boredom...when the game was obviously between Steve and Buddy.
Same thing with table tennis. One summer we kept our cars in the driveway because we had a table tennis in the garage. Every day after work, Steve and the kids played table tennis while I cooked supper. And every night from the living room I could hear the smacking of the balls and the giggling and competive banter of the kids...and often, Steve...until I had to break it up so I could get some sleep. On work days, five am came early! I seldom got to bed before 11...if one of the kids was out, I couldn't go to bed until he/she was home.
During the periods when I thought I was going crazy...worrying over Tammy when she was out and fighting with Steve over everything...the kids...spending money we didnt have...Joey was my salvation!
God never made a happier, more loving child. He never had to be told something twice. When he got scolded over something, he just never did that something again. No matter how tired I was when I got home from work, his sunny smile and loving hugs made me forget about the tiring day at work.
And Lori. How I looked forward to her weekends! Although not an affectionate child, she had such a calming effect on all of us. Her sweet smile could lift your heart! And we all knew she was just as glad to be with us as we were to have her. Tammy, Buddy and Joey accepted her as their sister and could only have been happier with her, if she could have lived with us all the time. There were times I felt sorry for her. She worshipped her dad..and suddenly she had to share him not only with a new stepmom but three other kids. It couldn't have been easy on her. At the same time, she had a new stepfather and baby brother at home, plus Wayne's kids from his first marriage. From an only child, she was suddenly surrounded with step brothers and sisters, having to share both her parents with their new families. Besides every other weekend...from Friday night to Sunday night, Lori was with us for month during the summers, a week at Christmas and a week at spring break. One of the happiest moments of my life was when, after we had moved intothe new house, I heard her screaming at Buddy, who was pestering her. That was the moment I realized she had actually become one of the family and not a guest. And even, while I was telling Buddy to leave her alone...inside, I'm saying, "Way to go, Buddy!" From then on, there was no question about her feeling she belonged. She gave as good as she got!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 46
While waiting for...and watching...our house being built, Steve, the kids and I were learning to live together. One more person made the apartment, which seemed roomy when we first moved it, now felt smaller and crowded...especially on Lori's weekends. It helped that Steve and I worked different shifts. When we met, we both worked days...then when we got married, Holiday Rambler made us take different shifts...they wouldn't allow husband and wife to work together at the same plant. Later, when they dropped the afternoon shift, I got transferred to a different plant.
Life was good, again!
Every day we drove out to check the progress on our house. We watched the basement get poured, saw the walls go up, then the siding. We had chosen the color of the aluminum siding and the wood front, as well as the brick trim. After that, it seemed to come to a stand-still, waiting for the inside work. In March we went to this furniture store in Plymouth and picked out the carpeting and linoleum...in the middle of a big snow storm. But we were so eager to get it done, we weren't going to let a little snow (even 8 inches of it) stop us! One day in May, at work I got a phone call from the Bremen Hospital. This time it was about Joey. Tammy had taken him with her in a friend's car to look at the house, and when they turned a corner, the door flew open and Joey fell out. Thank God, he was not hurt badly...just scrapes and bruises. Actually, Tammy was in worse shape than he was!
Next came movi-in day. We moved into the house over the July 4th weekend. Mom and Dad, Jim and Loretta and Frankie and his wife, Penny, came up to help. With two trucks and all that help, it only took us a few hours to move and set everything up....and we were determined to stay there so we didn't have to pay another month's rent on the apartment....even though the electricity had not been turned on. We lived there a week before we had electricity!
Mine and Steve's bedroom had red carpeting with white walls and ceiling...the ceiling had silver sparkles on it. We had a big double closet with sliding mirrored doors. And our room had double entrance doors.
Buddy's and Joey's room was blue...with blue carpeting, and a double closet. They had new twin beds with new matching blankets and bedspreads.
Tammy's and Lori's room was light lavendar with lavenday carpeting. It was smaller than the boys room, so the girls had bunk beds with matching blankets and bedspreads. They got the smaller room because most of the time Tammy had it to herself.
The bedrooms and bathroom were on the upper level. On the main level was the living room and kitchen. On the lower level was the laundry room, furnace room, a half bath...and an unfinished room, that didn't stay unfinished very long. That was mine and Steve's first project together in our new home.
For months, after work, Steve worked on finishing the family room. When he finished, it was really nice...panelled walls, white tiled drop ceiling, and closet. A built in bookcase and desk-table took up one whole end wall. A few years later, after much begging and coaxing from Buddy, we put a bed down there and made it his bedroom.
Life was good, again!
Every day we drove out to check the progress on our house. We watched the basement get poured, saw the walls go up, then the siding. We had chosen the color of the aluminum siding and the wood front, as well as the brick trim. After that, it seemed to come to a stand-still, waiting for the inside work. In March we went to this furniture store in Plymouth and picked out the carpeting and linoleum...in the middle of a big snow storm. But we were so eager to get it done, we weren't going to let a little snow (even 8 inches of it) stop us! One day in May, at work I got a phone call from the Bremen Hospital. This time it was about Joey. Tammy had taken him with her in a friend's car to look at the house, and when they turned a corner, the door flew open and Joey fell out. Thank God, he was not hurt badly...just scrapes and bruises. Actually, Tammy was in worse shape than he was!
Next came movi-in day. We moved into the house over the July 4th weekend. Mom and Dad, Jim and Loretta and Frankie and his wife, Penny, came up to help. With two trucks and all that help, it only took us a few hours to move and set everything up....and we were determined to stay there so we didn't have to pay another month's rent on the apartment....even though the electricity had not been turned on. We lived there a week before we had electricity!
Mine and Steve's bedroom had red carpeting with white walls and ceiling...the ceiling had silver sparkles on it. We had a big double closet with sliding mirrored doors. And our room had double entrance doors.
Buddy's and Joey's room was blue...with blue carpeting, and a double closet. They had new twin beds with new matching blankets and bedspreads.
Tammy's and Lori's room was light lavendar with lavenday carpeting. It was smaller than the boys room, so the girls had bunk beds with matching blankets and bedspreads. They got the smaller room because most of the time Tammy had it to herself.
The bedrooms and bathroom were on the upper level. On the main level was the living room and kitchen. On the lower level was the laundry room, furnace room, a half bath...and an unfinished room, that didn't stay unfinished very long. That was mine and Steve's first project together in our new home.
For months, after work, Steve worked on finishing the family room. When he finished, it was really nice...panelled walls, white tiled drop ceiling, and closet. A built in bookcase and desk-table took up one whole end wall. A few years later, after much begging and coaxing from Buddy, we put a bed down there and made it his bedroom.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 45
The first of January we moved into our new apartment in Bremen...and we all loved it! It was unfurnished, but between Uncle Calvin and my brother, Jimmy and auction sales, within a week I had three beds, a stove and refrigerator, table and four mismatched chairs and two chests of drawers. We were all set!
The apartment was on the ground floor with a big living room, two big bedrooms and a good-sized kitchen and bathroom. The only downside of it was the kitchen. Though big, it was down a hall from the living room, past my bedroom and the bathroom. It just felt separated from the rest of the apartment, but I soon grew used to it.
I loved Bremen and thought, even before I moved there, it would be the perfect town to raise kids. It was small. I think the population when we moved there was less than 2,000 including the surrounding township. Best of all, it was just 20 miles from South Bend and K-Mart!
We lived just a block from Bremen Cafe, a local bar with music and dancing on weekends. On Saturday nights after time for the kids to go to bed, I'd walk over there to meet friends from work, have a beer, listen to the music and dance. I did not want to date anybody, but I loved to go out with a crowd of friends and dance all night. At work I had made a best friend, Evelyn, and she and I spent a lot of time together with our kids. Sundays were most often spent at my brothers or my uncles...at least until I got over being mad at my mother for not allowing us to stay with them. Which didn't take more than a few weeks. I loved Mom too much to stay mad at her.
One Saturday night in February, Steve Bennett joined our group at Bremen Cafe. I knew Steve vaguely from work...knew who he was, at least. After that, he often joined us and we became friends. Over the weeks and months that friendship grew. When I realized that I was falling in love with him, I finally filed for the divorce that I had hoped I wouldn't have to get.
Steve was wonderful. To me. To the kids. To my family. He had an eight year-old daughter from his previous marriage that I adored. Lori was a shy, quiet little thing. It was hard to get her to say a word...until she got with my kids. Then she opened right up. She and Tammy became fast friends. And Joey followed her around like a little puppy. Because Steve was paying child support and bills he owed, he didn't have much money, so our dates were dutch treats...which was okay with me. I just liked being with him. We laughed a lot...and after what I had gone through the past year or two, I needed to laugh. He played on a softball team and I went to all his games. On Saturday nights we went to auto races. A neighbor of mine drove a race car, and we followed him and cheered him on all summer.
One night while at the race track, I heard my name over the loud speaker saying I had an emergency phone call. Well.....Buddy was spending the weekend with a friend over by Warsaw and had an accident riding a motor bike. The boy's parents took him to the Emergency Room at Warsaw Hospital and since he didn't know how to get hold of me, he had them call Mom and Dad.
But the hospital wouldn't stitch him up without my sayso, so they called the track and had me paged. Steve and I rushed to the hospital, scared to death not knowing how badly Buddy was hurt. Turned out, he had a long gash in his leg that had to be stitched, but was fine otherwise.
Another time I got a call at work that Buddy was at Bremen Hospital. Again, I rushed there scared about what I'd find. That time Tammy and Buddy were chasing each other and Tammy ran out the front door, slamming it in Buddy's face and he put his arm through the glass. He had several stitches in it.
I had a wonderful baby-sitter for Joey. She lived just a couple of blocks from us and loved Joey as much as he did her. She baby-sat for us for a couple of years. But that first summer, she got sick and her oldest teenage daughter took over for a few weeks. I thought it was perfect...Alice came to the house and stayed every day. Then, one night Joey and Buddy were wrestling around on the living room floor and Joey yelled, "Let go, you f...ker!" I was so shocked, I grabbed Joey and said, "what did you say? what did you call your brother?" "he's a f...er," Joey said.
I had no idea where he could have heard that word. I knew neither I nor anybody in my family ever said it. So, I questioned him carefully...and he finally said that was what Alice called him.
I immediately went over to Alice's and talked to her mother. I said I would not have that kind of language used around my kids. The upshot was the mother said she was feeling better and I could start bringing Joey back to her the next day. Unfortunately, Joey was only two years old and liked the word and the reaction it caused. (Tammy and Buddy thought it was funny and would crack up when he said it.) He continued to use it until one day I washed his mouth out with soap...that was the end of that!
In September, Steve asked me to marry him and I said yes. We planned a small December wedding. In the meantime, we went house-hunting. I found a nice story and a half farm house near Wakarusa with 3 acres of tillable land. The house need some work...painting, carpeting and the upstairs bedrooms were unfinished. Steve wanted a new house. That was our first argument...and Steve won out.
A new subdivision was going up on the edge of Bremen. We made an offer on a new house to be built...and were accepted. We pored over house plans trying to decide the type house we wanted. It was an exciting time for all of us. We got the kids involved in it and they each argued their case for the house they wanted. Finally, we all agreed on a tri-level with a two car garage...and were told the construction would begin just after the first of the year, on the lot we picked out.
Our wedding was to be quite simple. At Mom's church by her minister, Chad..and just us, the kids and our best friends, Evelyn and Jerry as attendants, and my family.
Then...the day before the wedding, I got a call at work. My uncle Calvin had been in the VA hospital in Fort Wayne for a week...and this call said he was dying and I should go to Warsaw and take Mom and Dad up to Fort Wayne. I worked days and Steve worked afternoons. I was waiting for him when he got to work and told him what was going on. He took the day off and went with me to get Mom and Dad.
We were at the hospital all night. Uncle Calvin was pronounced dead at 6 a.m. Mom had called her pastor, Chad and he was there when Uncle Calvin died. At that time, Steve and I told Chad we'd postpone our wedding.
Later on, though, the family talked us into going ahead with it...Jan, Calvin's wife, said it was what Uncle Calvin would want. While Steve and I went home to get a few hours sleep, Mom called Chad and said the wedding was back on. When we got to the church that afternoon, Chad was in overalls, doing some repairs around the church. He quickly changed into a suit and married us. And the next day we went to Ypsilanti for Uncle Calvin's funeral and burial. It was quite an introduction into our family for Steve! He was so great about it all, my entire family...Mom, Dad, brothers and sister, aunts, uncles, cousins..and most of all Granny (who was in the hospital at the time with stomach problems)...fell in love with him. I was afraid he'd feel overwhelmed, but if he was, he sure didn't act like it. He seemed to like my family just as much as they did him. Steve was soon to be tested even further.
On New Year's Eve, at a party at a friends, as soon as Steve kissed me at midnight, Evelyn handed me my coat and purse and Steve rushed me out the door to my protests and questions. In the car he told me Mom had called about fifteen minutes before midnight and said Granny was going in for emergency surgery...and wanted us to drive her and Dad to Ypsi.
When we got there, Granny was intensive care. She had survived the operation but was still in critical condition. We stayed at the hospital until Sunday evening, when we had to leave so we could go to work the next day. Mom and Dad decided to go with us. Dad was still working and he, too, had to work the next day. We tried to get Mom to stay, but she insisted on going home with Dad.
We stayed in daily contact with the hospital and relatives and kept up on Granny's condition. It was a happy day when I was told they were moving her from Intensive Care. This meant she was getting better...I thought. Instead...at work again...I get a call she has passed away...just a few hours after leaving intensive care. Once again, Steve and I, with Mom and Dad,make the sorrowful journey to Ypsilanti for a funeral. Jimmy and Loretta followed us, with Tammy and Buddy. Joey and Lori Sue rode up with Pastor Chad and his wife. We all got a laugh when Chad walked into Uncle Darvin's house where we had all gathered in preparation to attend the viewing. Chad walked in and hugged me and said...loudly...I finally met the man who can out talk me...and he's only three years old! Joey started talking at eighteen months..and never stopped...I swear he even talked in his sleep! Again, Steve was wonderful to us all and wormed his way further into the hearts of all my relatives. But, we weren't finished with him yet.
Three months later, again, I get a call at work. My sister, Margaret's, little four year old girl has died. She was riding on a motorcycle with her father and they hit a truck. Sheila was killed instantly and Phil was in critical condition. This time my relatives made the trip from Michigan to Indiana. It was a sad, difficult time for all of us, especially my sister. Steve was our rock! I don't know how I would ever have gotten through those four months of personal losses without Steve and thanked God every day for him.
The rest of my family came to depend on Steve, too. If Jimmy needed help installing a chimney, he called Steve. If Mom and Dad wanted panelling hung, they called Steve. When my sister and her husband were redoing their house, they called Steve. When our friends needed help, they called Steve. Steve was always available whenever anybody needed him. And, over the years as other facets of him changed, that never did.
Steve was a wonderful father to my kids. It can't have been easy taking on two teen-agers and a three year old, but he did it with open arms. He was great with his own daughter, too. We had Lori with us every other weekend, a month in the summer, a week at Easter/spring break and a week at Christmas. She fit in with my kids like she'd always been a part of us. At first she was very shy around me. I figured it was because ...a. I married her dad...and maybe she had been dreaming that her parents would get back together...altho her mother had remarried, also. b. She was afraid of losing her time with her dad. I worked hard at making sure that didn't happen, encouraging Steve to spend time alone with Lori when she was with us. I talked to her early on and told her that I did not want to take her mother's place...she had a mother...but I hoped she and I could be friends. I grew to love her as much as I did my own kids and soon found myself just as eager as Steve to have her with us as often as possible. When it came to Christmas and birthdays, I made sure that Lori got just as much from us as my kids...after all, I did consider her partly mine.
My uncle Darvin and his wife, Shirley, divorced and started having trouble with their middle child, Mildred. Severe problems...drugs, running away, violence towards her mother. She was taken from them and put in the "system." One weekend when Steve and I were visiting Darvin and his new girlfriend, Darvin became visible upset when talking about Milly. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, Steve and I had volunteered to take her if the court would allow it. Well, the court did and Milly came to live with us. On the surface Milly was a sweet, congenial fourteen year-old who was a welcome addition to our family. All the kids loved her. We started her in school ...ninth grade...in Bremen. At first, all was fine. But after a few months, Milly got antsy...and ran away from us, hitchhiked to Ypsilanti and her dad. Darvin brought her back, but she didn't stay long. As hard as it was to give her up...or to give up on her...we had to. She was put in a foster home in Ann Arbor where she lived until she was 18. She has told me that the love we showed her and then she lost by her own actions, made her determined to change...and she did. Today, Milly is a social worker working with troubled teenagers such as she was.
Steve and I also opened our home and hearts to some inner city kids from Chicago. Every summer we took in at least one child for two weeks...sometimes we'd put one on the bus to go home and pick up another one for two weeks. Sometimes we took two siblings at a time. We always tried to get a boy near Joey's age. Over the years there were a couple boys we got every summer that we all grew close to.
Michael and Paul. How I loved those boys! We always made sure we did something special while the kids were with us. One year we took one flying..a friend of ours had a small plane. We took them to Kings Island amusement park. We took one on vacation with us. We took them camping. But one year, when we had Michael, I think it was, we went to Chicago to the museums. We had planned to go to the zoo, but it rained all day and we ended up at the museum. Michael was a good sport about it, though, saying even though he had been to the museum...not with us!
The summer Joey was 12 was the last year we took a Chicago kid. That year we had Michael and took him on vacation with us. And Joey and Michael squabbled the whole two weeks. Even Lori was ready to send Michael home on more than one occasion. The kids had just outgrown each other and were growing in different directions. After that both Joey and Lori asked us not to take any more summer kids.
The apartment was on the ground floor with a big living room, two big bedrooms and a good-sized kitchen and bathroom. The only downside of it was the kitchen. Though big, it was down a hall from the living room, past my bedroom and the bathroom. It just felt separated from the rest of the apartment, but I soon grew used to it.
I loved Bremen and thought, even before I moved there, it would be the perfect town to raise kids. It was small. I think the population when we moved there was less than 2,000 including the surrounding township. Best of all, it was just 20 miles from South Bend and K-Mart!
We lived just a block from Bremen Cafe, a local bar with music and dancing on weekends. On Saturday nights after time for the kids to go to bed, I'd walk over there to meet friends from work, have a beer, listen to the music and dance. I did not want to date anybody, but I loved to go out with a crowd of friends and dance all night. At work I had made a best friend, Evelyn, and she and I spent a lot of time together with our kids. Sundays were most often spent at my brothers or my uncles...at least until I got over being mad at my mother for not allowing us to stay with them. Which didn't take more than a few weeks. I loved Mom too much to stay mad at her.
One Saturday night in February, Steve Bennett joined our group at Bremen Cafe. I knew Steve vaguely from work...knew who he was, at least. After that, he often joined us and we became friends. Over the weeks and months that friendship grew. When I realized that I was falling in love with him, I finally filed for the divorce that I had hoped I wouldn't have to get.
Steve was wonderful. To me. To the kids. To my family. He had an eight year-old daughter from his previous marriage that I adored. Lori was a shy, quiet little thing. It was hard to get her to say a word...until she got with my kids. Then she opened right up. She and Tammy became fast friends. And Joey followed her around like a little puppy. Because Steve was paying child support and bills he owed, he didn't have much money, so our dates were dutch treats...which was okay with me. I just liked being with him. We laughed a lot...and after what I had gone through the past year or two, I needed to laugh. He played on a softball team and I went to all his games. On Saturday nights we went to auto races. A neighbor of mine drove a race car, and we followed him and cheered him on all summer.
One night while at the race track, I heard my name over the loud speaker saying I had an emergency phone call. Well.....Buddy was spending the weekend with a friend over by Warsaw and had an accident riding a motor bike. The boy's parents took him to the Emergency Room at Warsaw Hospital and since he didn't know how to get hold of me, he had them call Mom and Dad.
But the hospital wouldn't stitch him up without my sayso, so they called the track and had me paged. Steve and I rushed to the hospital, scared to death not knowing how badly Buddy was hurt. Turned out, he had a long gash in his leg that had to be stitched, but was fine otherwise.
Another time I got a call at work that Buddy was at Bremen Hospital. Again, I rushed there scared about what I'd find. That time Tammy and Buddy were chasing each other and Tammy ran out the front door, slamming it in Buddy's face and he put his arm through the glass. He had several stitches in it.
I had a wonderful baby-sitter for Joey. She lived just a couple of blocks from us and loved Joey as much as he did her. She baby-sat for us for a couple of years. But that first summer, she got sick and her oldest teenage daughter took over for a few weeks. I thought it was perfect...Alice came to the house and stayed every day. Then, one night Joey and Buddy were wrestling around on the living room floor and Joey yelled, "Let go, you f...ker!" I was so shocked, I grabbed Joey and said, "what did you say? what did you call your brother?" "he's a f...er," Joey said.
I had no idea where he could have heard that word. I knew neither I nor anybody in my family ever said it. So, I questioned him carefully...and he finally said that was what Alice called him.
I immediately went over to Alice's and talked to her mother. I said I would not have that kind of language used around my kids. The upshot was the mother said she was feeling better and I could start bringing Joey back to her the next day. Unfortunately, Joey was only two years old and liked the word and the reaction it caused. (Tammy and Buddy thought it was funny and would crack up when he said it.) He continued to use it until one day I washed his mouth out with soap...that was the end of that!
In September, Steve asked me to marry him and I said yes. We planned a small December wedding. In the meantime, we went house-hunting. I found a nice story and a half farm house near Wakarusa with 3 acres of tillable land. The house need some work...painting, carpeting and the upstairs bedrooms were unfinished. Steve wanted a new house. That was our first argument...and Steve won out.
A new subdivision was going up on the edge of Bremen. We made an offer on a new house to be built...and were accepted. We pored over house plans trying to decide the type house we wanted. It was an exciting time for all of us. We got the kids involved in it and they each argued their case for the house they wanted. Finally, we all agreed on a tri-level with a two car garage...and were told the construction would begin just after the first of the year, on the lot we picked out.
Our wedding was to be quite simple. At Mom's church by her minister, Chad..and just us, the kids and our best friends, Evelyn and Jerry as attendants, and my family.
Then...the day before the wedding, I got a call at work. My uncle Calvin had been in the VA hospital in Fort Wayne for a week...and this call said he was dying and I should go to Warsaw and take Mom and Dad up to Fort Wayne. I worked days and Steve worked afternoons. I was waiting for him when he got to work and told him what was going on. He took the day off and went with me to get Mom and Dad.
We were at the hospital all night. Uncle Calvin was pronounced dead at 6 a.m. Mom had called her pastor, Chad and he was there when Uncle Calvin died. At that time, Steve and I told Chad we'd postpone our wedding.
Later on, though, the family talked us into going ahead with it...Jan, Calvin's wife, said it was what Uncle Calvin would want. While Steve and I went home to get a few hours sleep, Mom called Chad and said the wedding was back on. When we got to the church that afternoon, Chad was in overalls, doing some repairs around the church. He quickly changed into a suit and married us. And the next day we went to Ypsilanti for Uncle Calvin's funeral and burial. It was quite an introduction into our family for Steve! He was so great about it all, my entire family...Mom, Dad, brothers and sister, aunts, uncles, cousins..and most of all Granny (who was in the hospital at the time with stomach problems)...fell in love with him. I was afraid he'd feel overwhelmed, but if he was, he sure didn't act like it. He seemed to like my family just as much as they did him. Steve was soon to be tested even further.
On New Year's Eve, at a party at a friends, as soon as Steve kissed me at midnight, Evelyn handed me my coat and purse and Steve rushed me out the door to my protests and questions. In the car he told me Mom had called about fifteen minutes before midnight and said Granny was going in for emergency surgery...and wanted us to drive her and Dad to Ypsi.
When we got there, Granny was intensive care. She had survived the operation but was still in critical condition. We stayed at the hospital until Sunday evening, when we had to leave so we could go to work the next day. Mom and Dad decided to go with us. Dad was still working and he, too, had to work the next day. We tried to get Mom to stay, but she insisted on going home with Dad.
We stayed in daily contact with the hospital and relatives and kept up on Granny's condition. It was a happy day when I was told they were moving her from Intensive Care. This meant she was getting better...I thought. Instead...at work again...I get a call she has passed away...just a few hours after leaving intensive care. Once again, Steve and I, with Mom and Dad,make the sorrowful journey to Ypsilanti for a funeral. Jimmy and Loretta followed us, with Tammy and Buddy. Joey and Lori Sue rode up with Pastor Chad and his wife. We all got a laugh when Chad walked into Uncle Darvin's house where we had all gathered in preparation to attend the viewing. Chad walked in and hugged me and said...loudly...I finally met the man who can out talk me...and he's only three years old! Joey started talking at eighteen months..and never stopped...I swear he even talked in his sleep! Again, Steve was wonderful to us all and wormed his way further into the hearts of all my relatives. But, we weren't finished with him yet.
Three months later, again, I get a call at work. My sister, Margaret's, little four year old girl has died. She was riding on a motorcycle with her father and they hit a truck. Sheila was killed instantly and Phil was in critical condition. This time my relatives made the trip from Michigan to Indiana. It was a sad, difficult time for all of us, especially my sister. Steve was our rock! I don't know how I would ever have gotten through those four months of personal losses without Steve and thanked God every day for him.
The rest of my family came to depend on Steve, too. If Jimmy needed help installing a chimney, he called Steve. If Mom and Dad wanted panelling hung, they called Steve. When my sister and her husband were redoing their house, they called Steve. When our friends needed help, they called Steve. Steve was always available whenever anybody needed him. And, over the years as other facets of him changed, that never did.
Steve was a wonderful father to my kids. It can't have been easy taking on two teen-agers and a three year old, but he did it with open arms. He was great with his own daughter, too. We had Lori with us every other weekend, a month in the summer, a week at Easter/spring break and a week at Christmas. She fit in with my kids like she'd always been a part of us. At first she was very shy around me. I figured it was because ...a. I married her dad...and maybe she had been dreaming that her parents would get back together...altho her mother had remarried, also. b. She was afraid of losing her time with her dad. I worked hard at making sure that didn't happen, encouraging Steve to spend time alone with Lori when she was with us. I talked to her early on and told her that I did not want to take her mother's place...she had a mother...but I hoped she and I could be friends. I grew to love her as much as I did my own kids and soon found myself just as eager as Steve to have her with us as often as possible. When it came to Christmas and birthdays, I made sure that Lori got just as much from us as my kids...after all, I did consider her partly mine.
My uncle Darvin and his wife, Shirley, divorced and started having trouble with their middle child, Mildred. Severe problems...drugs, running away, violence towards her mother. She was taken from them and put in the "system." One weekend when Steve and I were visiting Darvin and his new girlfriend, Darvin became visible upset when talking about Milly. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, Steve and I had volunteered to take her if the court would allow it. Well, the court did and Milly came to live with us. On the surface Milly was a sweet, congenial fourteen year-old who was a welcome addition to our family. All the kids loved her. We started her in school ...ninth grade...in Bremen. At first, all was fine. But after a few months, Milly got antsy...and ran away from us, hitchhiked to Ypsilanti and her dad. Darvin brought her back, but she didn't stay long. As hard as it was to give her up...or to give up on her...we had to. She was put in a foster home in Ann Arbor where she lived until she was 18. She has told me that the love we showed her and then she lost by her own actions, made her determined to change...and she did. Today, Milly is a social worker working with troubled teenagers such as she was.
Steve and I also opened our home and hearts to some inner city kids from Chicago. Every summer we took in at least one child for two weeks...sometimes we'd put one on the bus to go home and pick up another one for two weeks. Sometimes we took two siblings at a time. We always tried to get a boy near Joey's age. Over the years there were a couple boys we got every summer that we all grew close to.
Michael and Paul. How I loved those boys! We always made sure we did something special while the kids were with us. One year we took one flying..a friend of ours had a small plane. We took them to Kings Island amusement park. We took one on vacation with us. We took them camping. But one year, when we had Michael, I think it was, we went to Chicago to the museums. We had planned to go to the zoo, but it rained all day and we ended up at the museum. Michael was a good sport about it, though, saying even though he had been to the museum...not with us!
The summer Joey was 12 was the last year we took a Chicago kid. That year we had Michael and took him on vacation with us. And Joey and Michael squabbled the whole two weeks. Even Lori was ready to send Michael home on more than one occasion. The kids had just outgrown each other and were growing in different directions. After that both Joey and Lori asked us not to take any more summer kids.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 44
For the first time in my life, I was doing manual labor! My job at Franklin Coach in Nappanee wasn't hard...filling in nail holes inside little travel trailers and staining trim...and provided a way for me to support my kids again.
Our little house trailer had two good sized bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom. Joey slept with me and Tammy and Buddy, once again, had to share a bedroom. The kids hated it there but, at the time, it was the best I could do. Rent was cheap, only $15 a week.
I kept writing to Joe even though he never responded. Then one day I got a phone call from his doctor. In that call and subsequent ones, the doctor asked me all about the way Joe had been acting leading up to his commitment.
In July, I got a call from Joe. He said he was going to sign himself out. That he was "fed up" with the hospital and didn't think they were doing him any good. I told him not to do anything rash and I'd call him back the next day.
I called his doctor and told him about Joe's phone call and asked if, in his opinion, Joe should leave the hospital. He said no way! But, he added, Joe had voluntarily committed himself and could leave anytime he wanted. He said the only way they could keep Joe from leaving was if either I or his mother came out there and committed him.
Since there was no way I could afford the trip, I called Joe's mother in Florida. She refused. I called the doctor back and told him there was nothing I could do. I asked if Joe would be okay and the doctor suggested I commit him locally...which I knew I could not do.
I then called Joe back, as promised. He had already made travel arrangements and told me he would fly into Chicago and take a bus to Warsaw and gave me dates and times. Since he would be while I was at work, I told him to go to Mom's.
When I got off work, I picked up the kids and we went to Mom's. It was a joyous reunion for all of us. The kids were absolutely thrilled to see Joe again...as he was to see them. This was on a Tuesday. On Friday when I got home from work, Joe said he wanted to go to Detroit to see his uncle and brother. We left early Saturday morning and after a short visit with Uncle George and Georgie, the kids and I went up to Ypsilanti to Avanelles, leaving Joe there with a promise to pick him up at three the next day for the return trip to Indiana.
When we went to get him the next day, he said he wanted to stay a week in order to take care of some "stuff." I tried to talk him out of staying but to no avail.
The next Friday I called him to tell him we'd be there Saturday afternoon to get him...and he said he needed another week. The next Friday I again called him. This time he said he was not coming back to Indiana...that Indiana was not his home. And if the kids and I wanted to live with him, we'd have to come to Detroit. Later, when Joe wasn't home, Uncle George called me. He said to not even try to come up there to live...that Joe was incapable of taking care of himself, much less me and the kids.
On Monday I called Joe's doctor in Camarillo and told him what was going on and asked what he thought I should do. His advice, in a nutshell, was to get a divorce. He said, in his opinion, Joe could function alone...with no responsibilities. He said Joe's illness had started when Joey was born. Before that, Joe really didn't feel any responsibility for me and Tammy and Buddy because he knew I had always worked and taken care of us. But when his own child was born, that put responsibility on him..and when he lost his job at Lincoln Park, it was downhill from there. I was crying while talking to the doctor. He was very kind and said he knew it was a difficult decision to make but he thought I should think about my kids and what was best for them.
So, here I was again, having to choose between my kids and my husband. It was a no-brainer to me. My kids were my life. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. Most people, even my mother, disagreed with me. She thought I should go to Michigan and try to save my marriage. Instead, I filed for divorce.
The first of August, I got laid off from Franklin Coach. After two weeks looking for work, I took a part-time job, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, at a local tavern. I hated it. But the money was good. I didn't make much per hour, but the tips were more than I had made working at Franklin Coach. A big disadvantage was having to leave the kids alone. Tammy was 12, Buddy turned 12 in August...and Joey not yet two. It was a lot of responsibility on Tammy. My hours were 8 pm to 2:30 am. Tammy resented having to stay in the house on those long summer evenings. She and Buddy started fighting and every night at work, I could count on at least one phone call from each of them. Since we lived only two blocks from the bar, I could run home...and often did...if I thought their fighting deserved intervention.
In August I got a job at Holiday Rambler. I was able to quit the bar, except filling in when they needed help...which I was glad to do because of the tips. It was nothing to bring home, in one night, what I made for a week at the trailer factory.
The kids started school in Milford and I thought things were going good, again, for us. Then, in October, a couple of weeks after her 13th birthday, Tammy ran away. She went for a walk on Saturday afternoon. Since I had been called to work at the bar that night, I told her to be home by six so we could eat before I had to leave. She didn't show up. Two days later Mom found her at a friend's house. I won't go into that weekend except to say it was the worst experience of my life...not knowing if she was dead or alive. Thank God for my Dad...who was with me through it all. Mom was in Kentucky for the weekend and didn't know about until she got home late Sunday night. She was at work on Monday and mentioned Tammy's disappearance to a friend...who said Tammy was staying with them! The friend called home and had Tammy come to the duck farm, where Mom worked...then Mom called me and said to come get Tammy.
When I walked into the duck farm, I didn't know whether to hug her or slap her! After the two days misery I had gone through, I was swept with conflicting feelings. Happy she was okay...angry at her for running off. The happy side won. I pulled her into my arms and we both cried. When we got home, we spent the whole day talking. Tammy told me how unhappy she was there...how much she hated being home alone with Buddy and Joey when I worked nights...how ashamed she was about me working in a bar. I promised her I would never work another night at the bar. We'd just have to cut back on our spending and live on the money I made at the trailer factory.
Then...one day Buddy told me Tammy was being stalked. He didn't use that word..but said when they were out, this Mexican boy was always hanging around...and hung around outside the trailer when I wasn't home. Even though I was no longer working at the bar, I had gotten in the habit of going there for a few hours every Saturday night after the kids were in bed. So much for that!
The first Saturday night I stayed home, I was in the living room watching TV, with the lights off..when I saw a man at the window. In a few minutes Buddy came out and said the Mexican was looking in their window. By then I had turned on the lights and when I went outside, he was gone. This happened the next night...and the next...once I heard him try the front door, which was locked.
The following Saturday, Thanksgiving weekend, I was at Moms. Sue, my sister who lived in Kentucky was there, too. I was crying while telling her and Mom about the Mexican boy and how scared I was for Tammy. Sue gave me a small gun.
That night I sat on the couch, facing the door, with the loaded gun in my hand. There's not a doubt in my mind that if the Mexican...who I had learned was a 17 year old boy..had tried to get into the trailer, I would have shot him!
The next day, my Uncle Calvin and his wife Jan stopped by. When he saw the gun laying on top of the TV, he went ballistic! I explained what was going on and he yelled at me, "Have you lost your mind?" And I realized I had.
While I sat on the couch crying, the kids crowded around me, Joey on my lap, Uncle Calvin told Jan to take Tammy and pack us some clothes...that we were not spending another night in that trailer! It just shows how depressed I was that I not only allowed Uncle Calvin to tell me what to do, but to like it...even need it.
We followed Uncle Calvin to Mom's where he told her what was going on...yelling at her for allowing it. When I asked her if the kids and I could stay there until after Christmas...she said no. She said I had a husband in Detroit and should go to him. Mom didn't understand mental illness any better than I had before talking to Joe's doctor.
The kids and I ended up staying with my brother, Jimmy and his family. I planned to move back to Ypsilanti after Christmas. Avanelle invited us to stay with her until I got settled. I called Joe and told him what I was going to do and said he could stay at Avanelle's with us until I found us a place to live. He said no. He said that he had called my old boss...Al Klieman and Al told him he would give me a job whenever I wanted it.
Again, I was torn. Should I go back to Ypsilanti and start all over, knowing Joe was in Detroit but wouldn't live with us? Or should I stay in Indiana...near my family ...especially my brothers and sisters and Uncle Calvin ...all of whom I had grown very close to.
I never consciously made a decision. I kept working, driving from Palestine Lake to Nappanee every day. Then one day at work, a friend mentioned an apartment in Bremen she had looked at and said I should check it out. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I had put down a deposit and a month's rent, starting the first of January. So. We were staying in Indiana. Bremen was about 35 miles from Warsaw, just close enough to visit whenever I wanted to.
Our little house trailer had two good sized bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom. Joey slept with me and Tammy and Buddy, once again, had to share a bedroom. The kids hated it there but, at the time, it was the best I could do. Rent was cheap, only $15 a week.
I kept writing to Joe even though he never responded. Then one day I got a phone call from his doctor. In that call and subsequent ones, the doctor asked me all about the way Joe had been acting leading up to his commitment.
In July, I got a call from Joe. He said he was going to sign himself out. That he was "fed up" with the hospital and didn't think they were doing him any good. I told him not to do anything rash and I'd call him back the next day.
I called his doctor and told him about Joe's phone call and asked if, in his opinion, Joe should leave the hospital. He said no way! But, he added, Joe had voluntarily committed himself and could leave anytime he wanted. He said the only way they could keep Joe from leaving was if either I or his mother came out there and committed him.
Since there was no way I could afford the trip, I called Joe's mother in Florida. She refused. I called the doctor back and told him there was nothing I could do. I asked if Joe would be okay and the doctor suggested I commit him locally...which I knew I could not do.
I then called Joe back, as promised. He had already made travel arrangements and told me he would fly into Chicago and take a bus to Warsaw and gave me dates and times. Since he would be while I was at work, I told him to go to Mom's.
When I got off work, I picked up the kids and we went to Mom's. It was a joyous reunion for all of us. The kids were absolutely thrilled to see Joe again...as he was to see them. This was on a Tuesday. On Friday when I got home from work, Joe said he wanted to go to Detroit to see his uncle and brother. We left early Saturday morning and after a short visit with Uncle George and Georgie, the kids and I went up to Ypsilanti to Avanelles, leaving Joe there with a promise to pick him up at three the next day for the return trip to Indiana.
When we went to get him the next day, he said he wanted to stay a week in order to take care of some "stuff." I tried to talk him out of staying but to no avail.
The next Friday I called him to tell him we'd be there Saturday afternoon to get him...and he said he needed another week. The next Friday I again called him. This time he said he was not coming back to Indiana...that Indiana was not his home. And if the kids and I wanted to live with him, we'd have to come to Detroit. Later, when Joe wasn't home, Uncle George called me. He said to not even try to come up there to live...that Joe was incapable of taking care of himself, much less me and the kids.
On Monday I called Joe's doctor in Camarillo and told him what was going on and asked what he thought I should do. His advice, in a nutshell, was to get a divorce. He said, in his opinion, Joe could function alone...with no responsibilities. He said Joe's illness had started when Joey was born. Before that, Joe really didn't feel any responsibility for me and Tammy and Buddy because he knew I had always worked and taken care of us. But when his own child was born, that put responsibility on him..and when he lost his job at Lincoln Park, it was downhill from there. I was crying while talking to the doctor. He was very kind and said he knew it was a difficult decision to make but he thought I should think about my kids and what was best for them.
So, here I was again, having to choose between my kids and my husband. It was a no-brainer to me. My kids were my life. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. Most people, even my mother, disagreed with me. She thought I should go to Michigan and try to save my marriage. Instead, I filed for divorce.
The first of August, I got laid off from Franklin Coach. After two weeks looking for work, I took a part-time job, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, at a local tavern. I hated it. But the money was good. I didn't make much per hour, but the tips were more than I had made working at Franklin Coach. A big disadvantage was having to leave the kids alone. Tammy was 12, Buddy turned 12 in August...and Joey not yet two. It was a lot of responsibility on Tammy. My hours were 8 pm to 2:30 am. Tammy resented having to stay in the house on those long summer evenings. She and Buddy started fighting and every night at work, I could count on at least one phone call from each of them. Since we lived only two blocks from the bar, I could run home...and often did...if I thought their fighting deserved intervention.
In August I got a job at Holiday Rambler. I was able to quit the bar, except filling in when they needed help...which I was glad to do because of the tips. It was nothing to bring home, in one night, what I made for a week at the trailer factory.
The kids started school in Milford and I thought things were going good, again, for us. Then, in October, a couple of weeks after her 13th birthday, Tammy ran away. She went for a walk on Saturday afternoon. Since I had been called to work at the bar that night, I told her to be home by six so we could eat before I had to leave. She didn't show up. Two days later Mom found her at a friend's house. I won't go into that weekend except to say it was the worst experience of my life...not knowing if she was dead or alive. Thank God for my Dad...who was with me through it all. Mom was in Kentucky for the weekend and didn't know about until she got home late Sunday night. She was at work on Monday and mentioned Tammy's disappearance to a friend...who said Tammy was staying with them! The friend called home and had Tammy come to the duck farm, where Mom worked...then Mom called me and said to come get Tammy.
When I walked into the duck farm, I didn't know whether to hug her or slap her! After the two days misery I had gone through, I was swept with conflicting feelings. Happy she was okay...angry at her for running off. The happy side won. I pulled her into my arms and we both cried. When we got home, we spent the whole day talking. Tammy told me how unhappy she was there...how much she hated being home alone with Buddy and Joey when I worked nights...how ashamed she was about me working in a bar. I promised her I would never work another night at the bar. We'd just have to cut back on our spending and live on the money I made at the trailer factory.
Then...one day Buddy told me Tammy was being stalked. He didn't use that word..but said when they were out, this Mexican boy was always hanging around...and hung around outside the trailer when I wasn't home. Even though I was no longer working at the bar, I had gotten in the habit of going there for a few hours every Saturday night after the kids were in bed. So much for that!
The first Saturday night I stayed home, I was in the living room watching TV, with the lights off..when I saw a man at the window. In a few minutes Buddy came out and said the Mexican was looking in their window. By then I had turned on the lights and when I went outside, he was gone. This happened the next night...and the next...once I heard him try the front door, which was locked.
The following Saturday, Thanksgiving weekend, I was at Moms. Sue, my sister who lived in Kentucky was there, too. I was crying while telling her and Mom about the Mexican boy and how scared I was for Tammy. Sue gave me a small gun.
That night I sat on the couch, facing the door, with the loaded gun in my hand. There's not a doubt in my mind that if the Mexican...who I had learned was a 17 year old boy..had tried to get into the trailer, I would have shot him!
The next day, my Uncle Calvin and his wife Jan stopped by. When he saw the gun laying on top of the TV, he went ballistic! I explained what was going on and he yelled at me, "Have you lost your mind?" And I realized I had.
While I sat on the couch crying, the kids crowded around me, Joey on my lap, Uncle Calvin told Jan to take Tammy and pack us some clothes...that we were not spending another night in that trailer! It just shows how depressed I was that I not only allowed Uncle Calvin to tell me what to do, but to like it...even need it.
We followed Uncle Calvin to Mom's where he told her what was going on...yelling at her for allowing it. When I asked her if the kids and I could stay there until after Christmas...she said no. She said I had a husband in Detroit and should go to him. Mom didn't understand mental illness any better than I had before talking to Joe's doctor.
The kids and I ended up staying with my brother, Jimmy and his family. I planned to move back to Ypsilanti after Christmas. Avanelle invited us to stay with her until I got settled. I called Joe and told him what I was going to do and said he could stay at Avanelle's with us until I found us a place to live. He said no. He said that he had called my old boss...Al Klieman and Al told him he would give me a job whenever I wanted it.
Again, I was torn. Should I go back to Ypsilanti and start all over, knowing Joe was in Detroit but wouldn't live with us? Or should I stay in Indiana...near my family ...especially my brothers and sisters and Uncle Calvin ...all of whom I had grown very close to.
I never consciously made a decision. I kept working, driving from Palestine Lake to Nappanee every day. Then one day at work, a friend mentioned an apartment in Bremen she had looked at and said I should check it out. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I had put down a deposit and a month's rent, starting the first of January. So. We were staying in Indiana. Bremen was about 35 miles from Warsaw, just close enough to visit whenever I wanted to.
Friday, October 2, 2009
LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 43
Leaving Joe was really hard on all of us. My heart was breaking but I tried to keep it together for the kids. Both Tammy and Buddy were devastated. Tammy sobbed her little heart out for the first hour or so...and Buddy, sitting in the front seat by me, tried to be tough..telling Tammy he was glad to be leaving Kum's house. Tammy said she was glad of that, but wanted Joe with us. "Me too," he said, "but Joe says we can't get everything we want." Yet, he sat there looking out the side window and surreptitiously wiping his eyes every now and then. It made no difference to Joey, though. He had the three people who meant most to him!
I tried to reassure the kids, telling them we were only going to Indiana to wait until Joe got a place of our own then we'd go back...yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was saying it was over. My marriage, my dreams, my life. Now it was just me and my kids again.
We drove for about three hours...in the middle of the desert...and had a flat tire. In a station wagon, the spare is under the floor behind the third seat. We had to unload everything to get to the spare. By then a couple of men in a pickup had stopped to help us. Only to find the spare was also flat. They said the only thing they could do was go on in to Scottsdale, about 30 miles away, and send a tow truck. All in all, by the time the tow truck got there and fixed the tire, we spent about four hours sitting beside that road. The kids were great. They alternately played with Joey in the desert by the car and slept.
We stayed at a motel in Scottsdale and got an early start the next day. Overall, we took out time going to Indiana. We drove through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. I opted not to drive the hundred or so miles to visit the grand canyon...a decision I've often regretted. We did go a little out of our way to see the meteor hole. We stopped at a few Indian villages and I bought the kids some cheap souvenirs. I really had to be frugal. I had left Joe all my money except for my allotment check of $80 ...and the credit card. I charged the gas and the motels and we used the money for food.
We stopped at a deserted western town and stayed a couple of hours where the kids could run off the excess energy and I could take a break from driving. Even though Joey was good, considering he was only 18 months old, after a few hours in the car he got really cranky. So, even though we were on the road from 8 in the morning until about 10 at night, we didn't cover a lot of miles because we stopped often.
Wednesday evening we crossed the Mississippi River, awed by the Arch, and stopped to eat. I explained that we were only six hour from Warsaw and could either get a motel for the night...or keep going, putting us at at Mom and Dad's about one a.m. Both Tammy and Buddy said to go on...they were anxious to get there. At the next gas stop, I called Mom collect and told her we'd be in between one and two...which was a surprise to her since she didn't know we'd left California.
It was the week before Easter when we got to Indiana...and we stayed with Mom and Dad the rest of April. Again the kids started a new school. I got a job in Nappanee at a trailer factory and rented a mobile home in Milford. We moved there the first of May...and again, the kids started a new school. This made four different schools in one school year...actually, four different schools in five months!
Two weeks after I got home, I got a disturbing letter from Joe. It scared me to death. He said he was living in a room in Los Angeles. The letter sounded like a suicide note. I didn't know what to do. I called Joe's uncle George in Detroit and read the letter to him. He told me to take care of my kids and he'd take care of Joe.
Uncle George called Kum Walter and, I guess, read him the riot act. Told him they had interfered enough in our lives and now it was up to them to find Joe and take care of him. I guess after we left, Joe and Kuma Lillian had words, to put it mildly. He accused her of running us off and she said it was his fault for being too lazy to take care of us. So, in a huff, he left them and went to LA...and got a room where he holed up, only leaving it to mail that letter to me...at the same time he sent a note to Kum asking them to put my stuff in storage. I had left all our kitchen stuff...pots, pan, dishes, silverware.. as well as all our linens, a console TV set, Joey's crib, all my picture albums, my silver tea set and a painting that the office had given me, as well as other odds and ends.
After Uncle George's call, Kum went to find Joe...and after some discussion, took Joe to Camarillo State Hospital where Joe voluntarily committed himself. And just walked away from Joe...with never another visit or phone call. Some Kum! The only contact Joe had with them again was some papers they sent to the Hospital for Joe to sign...including a Quit Claim Deed giving them back their house.
When I later called them and asked them to ship my stuff to me, Kuma said they had sold most of it a garage sale. I said then to send me the money, as well as the money I had paid on their house. She got all huffy and said the over $2,000 I had given them for back payments and utilities was rent and board for the two months we all stayed with them...and hung up on me. I never heard from her again...but when I visited friends in Detroit, I heard all kinds of lies she told them...such as we never paid them anything...and how good they treated us...while we were a couple of ingrates! Luckily, when I was at Kuma Eva's and she was telling me the worst of it, in my purse I had a couple of cancelled checks...endorsed by Walter, for over a thousand dollars.
I tried to reassure the kids, telling them we were only going to Indiana to wait until Joe got a place of our own then we'd go back...yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was saying it was over. My marriage, my dreams, my life. Now it was just me and my kids again.
We drove for about three hours...in the middle of the desert...and had a flat tire. In a station wagon, the spare is under the floor behind the third seat. We had to unload everything to get to the spare. By then a couple of men in a pickup had stopped to help us. Only to find the spare was also flat. They said the only thing they could do was go on in to Scottsdale, about 30 miles away, and send a tow truck. All in all, by the time the tow truck got there and fixed the tire, we spent about four hours sitting beside that road. The kids were great. They alternately played with Joey in the desert by the car and slept.
We stayed at a motel in Scottsdale and got an early start the next day. Overall, we took out time going to Indiana. We drove through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. I opted not to drive the hundred or so miles to visit the grand canyon...a decision I've often regretted. We did go a little out of our way to see the meteor hole. We stopped at a few Indian villages and I bought the kids some cheap souvenirs. I really had to be frugal. I had left Joe all my money except for my allotment check of $80 ...and the credit card. I charged the gas and the motels and we used the money for food.
We stopped at a deserted western town and stayed a couple of hours where the kids could run off the excess energy and I could take a break from driving. Even though Joey was good, considering he was only 18 months old, after a few hours in the car he got really cranky. So, even though we were on the road from 8 in the morning until about 10 at night, we didn't cover a lot of miles because we stopped often.
Wednesday evening we crossed the Mississippi River, awed by the Arch, and stopped to eat. I explained that we were only six hour from Warsaw and could either get a motel for the night...or keep going, putting us at at Mom and Dad's about one a.m. Both Tammy and Buddy said to go on...they were anxious to get there. At the next gas stop, I called Mom collect and told her we'd be in between one and two...which was a surprise to her since she didn't know we'd left California.
It was the week before Easter when we got to Indiana...and we stayed with Mom and Dad the rest of April. Again the kids started a new school. I got a job in Nappanee at a trailer factory and rented a mobile home in Milford. We moved there the first of May...and again, the kids started a new school. This made four different schools in one school year...actually, four different schools in five months!
Two weeks after I got home, I got a disturbing letter from Joe. It scared me to death. He said he was living in a room in Los Angeles. The letter sounded like a suicide note. I didn't know what to do. I called Joe's uncle George in Detroit and read the letter to him. He told me to take care of my kids and he'd take care of Joe.
Uncle George called Kum Walter and, I guess, read him the riot act. Told him they had interfered enough in our lives and now it was up to them to find Joe and take care of him. I guess after we left, Joe and Kuma Lillian had words, to put it mildly. He accused her of running us off and she said it was his fault for being too lazy to take care of us. So, in a huff, he left them and went to LA...and got a room where he holed up, only leaving it to mail that letter to me...at the same time he sent a note to Kum asking them to put my stuff in storage. I had left all our kitchen stuff...pots, pan, dishes, silverware.. as well as all our linens, a console TV set, Joey's crib, all my picture albums, my silver tea set and a painting that the office had given me, as well as other odds and ends.
After Uncle George's call, Kum went to find Joe...and after some discussion, took Joe to Camarillo State Hospital where Joe voluntarily committed himself. And just walked away from Joe...with never another visit or phone call. Some Kum! The only contact Joe had with them again was some papers they sent to the Hospital for Joe to sign...including a Quit Claim Deed giving them back their house.
When I later called them and asked them to ship my stuff to me, Kuma said they had sold most of it a garage sale. I said then to send me the money, as well as the money I had paid on their house. She got all huffy and said the over $2,000 I had given them for back payments and utilities was rent and board for the two months we all stayed with them...and hung up on me. I never heard from her again...but when I visited friends in Detroit, I heard all kinds of lies she told them...such as we never paid them anything...and how good they treated us...while we were a couple of ingrates! Luckily, when I was at Kuma Eva's and she was telling me the worst of it, in my purse I had a couple of cancelled checks...endorsed by Walter, for over a thousand dollars.
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