I have always said that if it weren’t for bad luck I would have no luck at all. In a way, that really isn’t so. There have been many times when I have said, ok world I have had enough, I want out! Then some small something will happen, and guess what, I am still here. I am not saying still being on this earth is the brightest thing I have ever done, but here I am anyway. Actually, I have a knack for messing things up, and must admit I have tried to end it, only to mess that attempt up too. Oh well.
Here goes. I will most likely bounce around as much of what I learned about myself, has been after the fact. I was born 12/17/45. My father, I found was a very violent alcoholic, but born to a successful family. My Mother an individual of humble beginnings (daughter of a Minister and loving Mom in Arkansas. Poor but well loved in a close family). My mother wanted material things and appears to have been ashamed of her family and the fact that she was from Arkansas.
A very wealthy family adopted me. Very rich and drank very expensive Bourbon! My stepmother was extremely violent, vain, never happy and constantly raging. Beatings were frequent and at times “just because” as she would put it. My stepfather was a quiet drinker who went on “a business trip” when things got rough. I had never been told the truth about my family. My stepmother (I will call her “R”). Drank every night. If I came home with a “B+ in school” that was good for a beating. I have a portrait of myself taken when I was 10 years old. I look 20. In dress, manner. Etc. I as never allowed to be a kid. ( Now I collect dolls and have every Scooby Do video type ever made I think). I love animals and am nervous around humanity. ) My school cloths were a joke. I had two outfits. But, fancy cloths that were worn to the “Country Club” and R’s social affairs were from the best shops! I was playing bridge with R’s friends, attending nightclubs, etc. In effect I was an adult at age 10. I am 5’5” and weigh 125 lb. I was that at 10 also. R didn’t like my hair color, so she died it at age 10! I was entered in beauty contests, and if I didn’t win, I was trash, stupid, etc etc. (In my heart I was a tomboy – still am). I was not allowed to talk at home. Beatings were for any reason and all reasons. Once she looked at me and said she “didn’t like my face”. I did the cleaning, wash and cooking all of which usually didn’t meet specs, and I am sure that is a story many have had.
When I was 12 we went to R’s best friends house for Christmas. I got up early in the AM and saw lights on downstairs, so I thought, good, holiday would begin. (I enjoyed her friend she was really nice). Anyway, down I went and found R in bed with her best friend’s husband. I started to back up the stairs and ran into my stepfather (he had heard me get up), He also got a Christmas surprise……. He said nothing. From that day forward, I was a whore; I was sleeping around, etc. (Funny one, I really was a Tom-boy – I was playing baseball with the guys, not pillow talk) I was shy enough and afraid enough of people that I didn’t even kiss a guy till I was 16, never mind anything else. (We are talking slow starter here).
Her anger at me became more and more. There was nothing I could do right. My stepfather was not much better. He never defended me. He had a real daughter by a previous marriage that he “was not allowed to see”, so I was rather in the way. I was a showpiece to them. He took advantage of me, but there was no one who cared.
One night there was a terrible fight. She was beating him with a spiked high heel shoe. I woke up and tried to break it up. I got the worse end of that as I got her off him and she turned on me. One of the items used was a fireplace poker iron. He left the house immediately. There is a space I do not remember, but I woke up in the hospital. There were not the laws then that there are now and money talks, so no one was in my corner. Anyway, the day I was due to be released from the hospital, the doctor same in and said, “Your stepparents are coming at noon to get you (this was at 9:00 AM). Do you have a place I can take you right now! I was not quite 16 years old. I said yes, and he took me there. He told my stepparents I left and no one had any idea where I went.
That beating, I think is the one that cost me my hearing, and speech understanding (I am legally deaf). It also causes the migraines, and I believe some of my organizational skills are a bit off. I am aware of it, so am organized by way of compensating for what I know to be a weakness.
Well, let’s see. I finished high school. Every time my stepmother would walk in the front door, whatever class I was in would be warned and I would be escorted somewhere out of her reach. They were very wealthy people, and money talked with some authority, but not the school. The principal had had run in’s with my stepmother and hated her. (They even belonged to the same country club) Anyway, I made it through school. About the same time my high school art teacher accepted a post at a teacher’s college, and told myself and a buddy of mine that if we were interested in the school, he would help me with work, lodging etc. My buddy was born severely handicapped and deformed in legs and arms (that medicine that pg women took that did so much damage years ago). He had a hoyer lift on his car and I used to drive him all over. Anyway, we both went. The school allowed for handicapped persons before the laws insisted on it.
All was terrific until my stepmother found me there. She became drunk and the term used once again was “I don’t like your face”, and proceeded to throw a shot glass at me, and other things, I do not remember. My wee little brain went on overload and it is all black. I was found wondering the highway. My left eye was severely damaged. Because it affected the nerves, both eyes did not work. The right eye shut. So I was blind. The surgery was successful, but it took 9 months to see again. I was locked in closets at various times and am scared to death of the dark. Because of my hearing and inner ear problems, to shut my eyes or be in the dark also plays havoc with my sense of balance.
Anyway, I survived, but had to take a job and go to school at night (different town sense she had found me). I got a job as an elevator operator (when some were manual), and went to school at night. A man from an investment company in the building knew I was trying to do well, and offered me a job at his company. The poor man didn’t know how old I was. (I graduated from high school at 16). One lady in the office knew (a very nice elderly lady). When I finally turned 18 – she brought in a birthday cake that had happy 18th birthday on it. The man had me working with active negotiable securities, etc. and I was not even 18. I thought he would die when he saw the cake. I also thought he would fire me. But, that night he and his wife came to my little garage apartment with a (My birthday is 12 /17) small tree, decorations, food goodies, and a gift certificate for a new car battery). He was a good Christian man, and I was lucky. The problem was my stepmother found me again. At this point she made it clear that her point was for revenge. I had dared to defy her by leaving and not obeying. No she did not want me home; she wanted me to “pay for being a failure in life”. She started coming to the office drunk causing a scene. I knew I would have to leave and go somewhere out of state where I would be out of reach.
I had a boyfriend and we planned on a future together when we were through school. He lived with his mom (a widow). We were one heart and sole. Coming home from a movie headed for his house for snacks: A drunk hit us, going 80 in a 35-mph. My boyfriend was killed. I had to sit there and watch him die. The car rolled on him. I spent two years in a back brace, wishing it had been me who died not him. The drunk didn’t even get a bruise. He belonged to the same country club as my stepparents, and felt it was a lark, as my stepparents felt it was fine because my boyfriend was only a catholic boy with no father. A big part of me died that day. I was frozen at his funeral, and could not cry! During beatings, if I cried, I got hit harder, so I could tune out the world if I wanted to. I had to get away, one way or the other. I tried the easy way out, but my neighbors, I think knew I was up to something, so I did not succeed. I told my boss I had to leave and he understood why. He and his wife helped me with the promise that I would not try to end my life again. I could promise only to try not to. I died my hair, put on fake glasses, and they took me to the airport and put me on a plane for Rochester, New York under another name. (My stepmother had friends there looking – two walked right past me) I had one suitcase and my cat in a wicker purse. I called my girl friend, who had just gotten married. They were in school and she got PG. They had planned on getting married when through school, but were not prepared for it now. I told them my place was theirs, and all it’s contents (furniture, dishes, food in the ice box and cloths – she wore my size). I took just one suitcase and $64.00.
Guess I should back track about my little garage apartment. It was in a neighborhood where I was the only Caucasian person there. They all called me the pale child. (I have blonde hair and hazel eyes). Every one there was poor and proud. Spanish. My stepmother found the apartment, and came there in her new white Lincoln Continental. She got violent, but the neighbors came in (with a weapon) and told her she had to leave now! She went out screaming she would call the police, and found that they had sliced her tires. There was a note on the car carefully written in English, that she should not some back to the neighbor hood or it would be her. She called the police and the policeman just stood there and said, “I suggest you listen to these people”, and called a tow truck for her. I could walk at 2:00 AM and be safe as could be there. I was able to sponsor and help two families get their US citizenship. They all pitched in and helped me paint the entire apartment and fix broken windows. One lady made me terrific curtains out of scrap material. When I told them I had to leave and I had left my things to my friend, they promised to protect them as they had me. And they did!
Ok, now back to New York. I did arrive, and they (airlines) never caught me with my cat in my wicker purse until I was in the air near Buffalo. They said they would have to put her in baggage at their next stop which was ok (the next stop was Rochester). I had known a gal at school from there and she said schools were affordable and jobs good. I found a house where you rented a room and shared the house. There were five girls there. Worked and went back to school again.
Life was ok for a while. My stepmother found me, but I was out of reach! My stepfather had walked out on her and she remarried.
At age 24 I married. I admit the feelings were not what they were for Bill (my boyfriend who was killed). Two years later, Kimberly was born. Her father wanted a boy, so he stopped in the hospital to see what I had and was gone. He did not participate in her life until she was about 16, never financially. She does not like him even now, but I have taught her the hate she had for him only hurt her.
Every story has to have a funny side. When I went into labor (3 weeks late of course), I had been to the circus the night before and love burnt hot dogs. I mistook labor for burnt hot dog revenge, until I realized I could time it 2 minutes apart. Ok, Her father is places unknown (angry because the doctor said he thought I would have a girl), and it’s February in New York State (lots of snow), and it is a snow storm. I have a Volts Wagon. I drive myself to the hospital, and get to the emergency entrance. A very elderly black man comes out (security guard) and tells me I can’t park there. I said, oh, but I have to. He realized what was going on and ran to get a wheelchair. Next problem: I am stuck behind the wheel. They got the seat back and got me out. Kimberly Lee was born in the elevator! About two hours later, I am in the room, Kim is a healthy 8 pounds, and her father has come and gone. The same elderly black man comes to my room with a thermos of coffee and baked goodies his wife sent to work with him, and a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said “Lady have you ever seen a black man turn white? You almost did it to me”. (He was very dark skinned). We both had a good laugh, and shared his coffee and snacks. (I love coffee and never miss dessert). He would come up every night with snacks and chat on his break: He had 9 grand kids and was a pro on diapers, feeding, etc. (I knew nothing). Then my next visitor. A very distinguished priest came to my room with a bottle of red wine and two paper cups. I was devastated that I had ruined our marriage and had failed because I did not have the son that was wanted. I felt guilty because I secretly wanted a girl. They kept me in the hospital because of the priest for a week for observation. The priest's statement "Young lady, we are going to discuss the birds and the bees”. Oh if I could only have found a place to hide. His discussion of the birds and bees was that the woman does not decide male or female in a baby. Anyway, 28 years later I still can’t look at red wine (we drank that bottle). Three weeks later the priest had (anonymously) taken care of my divorce.
I was lucky enough to get a decent job, and life was normal. When Kim was about 2 ½. A girlfriend who was having emotional problems sent two of her kids to me for a visit because she said they were out of control and she couldn’t handle them. (One 12 and one 14). They never went back to Florida. I never had an ounce of problem with them. Michelle came to me 14 and weighting 250 pounds 5’ 8”. Her mother had goated her about her weight. I said nothing (but was careful what I kept in the house). She had been with me about two months when she came to me and asked if she could go on the weight watchers program she have kids of their own. I said sure, and took her. (Mind you I weighted 110 and was 5’5”). Anyway, we faithfully went and it got to be a fun game with everyone in the group. They put Michelle on the scales to see if she lost, and put me on the scale to see if I gained. By the end of the program, Michelle was down to 135 and a size 12, and I gained 8 pounds! She never gained the weight back. My proudest moment was watching her date for the Prom pick her up. She had picked out what she called the perfect dress when she started the died: I made sure she had that dress. Both girls are married and have kids of their own.
By now my stepmother has been communicating with me and with different husband swore she was not drinking. She wanted to see Kim, so I took her meet her grandmother. Things went well the first day. Then after dinner one night, her husband was out back talking to the neighbor and my step mother looked at me and again said “I don’t like your face”, you are a failure in all things, and back handed me in the face and knocked me over the chair backwards (in front of Kim). I was a mess and my nose was broken. Kim was screaming and her husband ran back in and pulled her off me and threw her into a corner. She had been putting vodka in her coffee. I knew her to only drink bourbon. Anyway, that night we were in the airport waiting the next flight getting us back to New York: I had a broken nose and black eyes. That was the last time I saw her.
She did communicate with me and she and her sister (my aunt) kept nagging me that Kim would be a whore in the streets being raised by just me. It was constant. My biggest fear always was and still is letting Kim down, and having her know the things I have known. I had been dating a man 12 years my senior. He had asked me to marry him over and over. He had $$ and everything my stepparents thought good. I was afraid of him though, as he was very controlling. Under pressure, I agreed to marry him. Within a year he gave me the alternative him or Kim. His kids were grown and he could not handle having a small child (now 6) under foot. That night we left, with what I could carry in the car.
He was furious that I dared “disobey” him, and was my family. He grabbed me at work, but I got by with only bruises and very sore. He was arrested. His guns were taken from him. His family (grown kids and brother) let him sit in jail. The judge insisted he go for therapy. He did, and 2 years later told me it was the best thing. He to this day gets along better with his family. He also two years ago, apologized to Kim and I. I had gone back to New York for Kim’s wedding. For him to apologize is unheard of. I bear him no anger, but there will always be that little bit of fear.
Things went fine after that. Kim grew and I guess the next thing of interest was two of Kim’s friends had trouble at home (8th grade) and ended up with me. Having three 8th grade girls in an apartment (1/2 house), with one phone and one bathroom is a story in it’s self. I worked two jobs to keep braces on Kim’s teeth and things a float a home. But the girls were good and no trouble and the house was always full. We were broke constantly by varied degrees, but it was fun. All Kim’s friends and boy friends, etc. called me MOM. I had the strictest rules on curfew, etc., but my house was full of kids. Most people take their “little ones” to the pumpkin patch at Halloween. I had a carload of teenagers. Kim is 28 and she and her husband still go to the same pumpkin batch. Easter egg coloring at Easter the same thing. At Christmas I told the kids they could have any tree they chose but they had to bring it into the house. Clever kids. Roped it up and drug it up the stairs. Everyone knows as the tree warms it spreads: We called our trees Gaints and had to move half the furniture as it spread into the room. The kids made decorations, cookies the whole bit. We had a huge kitchen thankfully. It was full. They never outgrew it. I never had holidays as a kid, so I loved it.
Kim is ADD and Dyslexic and the high school counselor told her not to bother with college. I had had money set aside from the day she was born each week for her for school or a trade or whatever. I told her if she wanted college, as long as she tried her best whatever that was A or D I would get her there. (In high school her grades were not good but no one would listen. They said one parent household is her only problem – adding to my guilt). Kimberly graduated with a Master’s Degree 4.0 average. So much for the counselor. The high school graduated her to get rid of me I think!!!
Anyway, as she was getting ready to go to college. I had a problem at work. I worked for a municipality 18 years. The Supervisor, an excellent man finally retired after 28 years unopposed. At that time things fell apart. The new man in charge was hated by one of the long time employees. That employee wanted me to put down this man and get him thrown out. I refused to do it. I told the person, what I thought of the man personally had nothing to do with work, at work he was good. I refused to lie for her. Soon after that I took a nasty fall on the ice going into the elevator. It knocked me out and the elevator door kept banging against my arm. It shredded the muscles and ligaments in my let arm. They had to be shortened and reattached as much as possible. I spent two years in a cast and over that in therapy. It still cramps badly and can snap my wrist, and 3 fingers are dead feeling wise. But it really doesn’t slow me much. Other than where I used to type 98 words a minute, I am down to 40. I readjusted how I use my fingers and of course now there are computers, much easier to use. The custodian, who had taken up mats to wash the salt out of, found me and almost had a heart attack. He was 61 yr. old and knew no other trade. If they had fired him he would have lost his retirement, etc. The person who now hated me pushed trying to get him fired. It was not his fault. It was a freak accident. I was an hour early into work with my hands full of paper work and snow on my boots. He was doing his job at his usual time. I challenged them, and they went after my juggler vein. I finally said ok, I would go, but I would not sign off the claim and would sue if they did not let the custodian retire of his own desire at the proper age. Just to be a snip I also added in the notice that they had better have the same retirement party for him that they have for everyone else who retires. I kept in touch with the custodian: He retired at 66 and had a party!!!!! I signed off.
At any rate. That left me with no job and a daughter entering college. I found a decent job in California and took it. My Peek-a-Poo dog and I drove cross-country in 3 days. I got in the car and realize: Fool you are alone in the car with an elderly dog: I kept driving from Rochester to Laguna. Then slept for 2 days straight! A new thrill entered my life: A) I am allergic go smog – and close to LA. B) I am afraid of freeways. The Pacific Coast Highway became my friend. I also won a lot of lunches when people would bet me I couldn’t get from point A to point B without the freeway: I did!!! The first earth quake I was in a stood in the middle of my bedroom with a pillow on my head (smart – no) Then slept outside on a lawn chair until there were no more aftershocks. I became a serious asthmatic with 30% lung capacity. The insurance company wouldn’t pay my doctor bills saying it was preexisting. Instead of going back 2 years in my medical records, they went back 25 years. My boss finally called a commission about insurance and all of a sudden, my bills were paid.
I had always wondered about my real mother, so I began to hunt for her. I knew I had been lied to and never knew why. I wanted to know in truth if there were any members of my family who were not vicious. I did find her. On Easter my daughter flew from New York and I flew from California to meet my mother and her husband. My real father I found died of alcoholism (Kidneys ruptured) at age 45. It was terrific for about 4 years. My mother told me I had been kidnapped, and other stories.
Finding her influenced my decision to move to Texas. It was closer to New York and Kim and to my Mom and the working potential was excellent. So once again my poor very elderly Peek a Poo and I got in the car and headed for Texas. I got a terrific job and all was well. (By the way Taffy, my Peek-a-Poo put up with me for 20 years before passing away). Finally after about four years, Kim and I met there again (which we did frequently) for Christmas. Tony, Mother’s husband (I will back track a bit) had cancer and was scared to death of being in the hospital. Mother no longer drives. I would leave work every Friday and head for Kansas and sit in the hospital with him a 24 hr day guard dog so to speak, so he wouldn’t be afraid. By Christmas he was home. That Christmas when I arrived, he had a list: Blasted me from one end to the other. I actually had flash backs of my stepmother. Finally, I ran from the house, in the snow with no coat. Just to think. He then tried to tell my daughter I was crazy that he had done nothing to upset me. Kim told him she was in the next room with thin walls and his voice is loud: she heard it all. Christmas day we were in the car headed back to Texas. I had met aunts and cousins, etc., upon finding my Mother and I was devastated and contacted them that maybe I had imposed myself unwanted on all of them. I soon found out many things: I was not kidnapped: I was sold. Numerous members of the family wanted to take me and raise me. My Mother wanted nice things and I was in the way. It hurt: But on the brighter side I now have a lovely cousin whom I found took care of me when I was a baby, who wanted to take me, and another aunt who’s husband was a minister and they had wanted to take me in. I did not lose all things. My cousins and aunt are a delight!
Now for some good news. At my job in Texas was a detail engineer. When I first went to work there everyone said: Watch out for Phil: He hates women especially and people in general. The first time the man walked into my office, I stuttered like porky pig. All he wanted to know was if I would be interested in putting information on the computer. The gal before me hated computers and did everything my hand. I finally got the word yes out of my mouth. He had me draw up what I wanted and created programs for me and helped me set it all up. During breaks we would chat, and found that he was dumped in an orphanage as a kid, and had a bad marriage. We had much in common. We were both low key and quiet not ones for crowds. Both loved to read, work with our hands: wood working and woodcarving and art of varied types. We both love old cars, and never turned on the TV. The funny thing was that no matter how many questions I asked, he would carefully explain. If I didn’t understand he would explain until I did. The funniest thing was one day, we were having a break and I said something and Phil laughed. The manager called me out of the office and said “what did you say to Phil” The look on his face was one of astonishment. I said I don’t know why??? He said Phil laughed, Phil never laughs……. It got so if anyone wanted something they would come to me to ask Phil. He was just quiet. I never saw anger.
Anyway we were just friends for about three years, then one day he asked me to go to the arbroedian (flowers) because I love photography. I called Kim in a panic. Kim what do I do Phil asked me out. (She had met Phil on several visits to Texas and to my office). She started laughing and said she and David (her now husband) had been wondering when the two of us would wake up! That we were met to be. He has been my love and my best friend ever sense. He loves Kimberly as though she were his. He stood proud at Kim’s wedding. I was broke by the time she was planning marriage and he made the wedding of her dreams for her! Kim stood at my wedding.
We had dated about 8 months when we got word that they thought I had cancer. Phil made up his mind he was taking me home to be with Kim. He packed us up and we headed for New York. As it turned out I did not have cancer, but he took me anyway. Work in his industry is all centered in this area, not New York so he lived in airplanes. My conscious was killing me, so after 10 months in New York, he made a usual run back to Dallas for three weeks. When he left for Texas, I started packing. When he got home most of the house was packed and I told him, next run to Dallas find us a place, we are going back. He hated the travel and being away from home and was doing it just for me. I told him we are a team, Kim is an ole’ married lady to a wonderful guy, and they are doing great. So next trip back to Texas he found us a place and we headed back here to Texas.
We have been back here sense November. Whatever pain and back luck I have, I feel I am lucky. All the fears about Kim are now past. She got her Master Degree with a 4.0 average and teaches emotionally and physically disturbed Kids. Her husband (my new son) is a music therapist and is a sweet heart. They have fun and friends and she has never known what I have known. Phil spoils me rotten!!!!! He is truly my best friend in addition to being my husband. We face whatever we have to face together. The nicest thing is for the first time in my life, it is ok to be me. From foolishness to fears, it is still ok to be me.
In conclusion I have had my fair share of bad luck and ugly stuff happen, but I am blessed.
A rather long winded story - Smiles
Oh, a foot note: My stepmother. She had a stroke. It took her speech and her ability to hit anyone. Then she lost one leg, then the other, then more of the first from diabetes due strictly to bourbon. Then she finally had another stroke. She died in pieces, slowly and alone. Her own sister (already rich), cleaned her out of every dime. She never saw her grand daughter other than the one time.
What goes around comes around.
Sept 24,1999