hit, she knew. “Kenneth, we are having another baby.”
Kenneth stood stunned. Quickly he recovered and gave Thelma a warm embrace.
Nine months later Anthony, another rose, came into the world. Excited grandparents and parents clapped with glee as Timothy bounced and wobbled for attention.
Mary arrived one year after the birth of little Tony. “We have a girl!” Kenneth shouted as Thelma was trying to gain strength. Exhausted and overwhelmed she wanted to hide and sleep.
Her response startled Kenneth, “We are nothing but a baby factory, manufacturing little ones as fast as humanly possible. I am sick and tired of this. I quit my job, making babies.” Thelma rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.
Thelma refused to leave the hospital with her newborn, Mary, until she had a tubal ligation. She read the medical community considered tubal ligation to be a highly effective method of birth control and the research showed only one in 200 women become pregnant after having undergone the procedure. She felt this was the right decision for their family.
Thelma had her “tubes tied”. The surgery involved cutting and tying off the fallopian tubes to prevent an egg from entering the uterus.
Thelma loved her babies, but exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks and the level of fatigue took over her whole life. The babies were all-encompassing and permeated every aspect and minute of the day. Grandma Edie stepped in when Timmy was born and she was great, but now there were three.
Sharing with Grandma Edie, “I find functioning as a human difficult. I can do the bare minimum.” Edie hugged her daughter-in-law.
“Eddie and I are here for you and the family. We are happy to be close and healthy. We are one big team.” Edie cut back on creating bridal gowns, giving children piano lessons, and baking for charity events.
Thelma and Kenneth continued their work schedules and Thelma pursued her art. She needed her creative outlet, working on what brought her love and joy. Cuddling with the little ones she shared her thoughts with Kenneth, “We are born to follow our own bread-crumb-trail of ideas, taking us to our individual in-born purpose, be that in art, mathematics or science.”
“Thelma, your art is your joy. It is your God-given pathway for natural healing. Your wellness is important to me and the children. We want a happy mommy.” After a hug they shared bathing, reading, and sending the little ones off to sleepy land.
Thelma knew creating her art lowered her stress and left her feeling mentally clear and calm. It provided her with a distraction, a brain breaks from worrying about babies and being overwhelmed by their physical, their intellectual, their emotional needs and financial demands. The responsibility of being a parent weighed heavy on her. Many times, a day she thought of Edie and sent her a moment of gratitude, surrounding her with blessings. Looking at her work, she saw her pain coming out in her paintings. Her pictures revealed her soul. Words did not communicate her deeper self, but her artwork did.
Edie and Eddie loved their grandkids. Taking them into their home every morning required major adjustments, it was challenging. They took responsibility for the day-to-day routines. For the first few years it was dealing with colicky babies, meals and toddler play dates. Now the children were older along came schedules, homework, and school and leisure activities. Edie made sure each one had piano lessons and Mary was learning to sew.
At breakfast Edie was scurrying around. Eddie placed his gaze on her, “Edie, we are rolling back the years. Being around these kids keeps us rejuvenated. You look great!” She gave him a warm smile and poured his coffee.
They derived immense satisfaction from providing their grandchildren with a safe, nurturing, and structured home environment in which to grow and feel loved. The kids enjoyed the calm, centered, and focused environment.
The children spent the last of days of Indian summer playing hopscotch, drawing squares on the street, and numbering them. Stones and chalk were easy to come by, along with the mud and the sticks. It was all they had. Their bodies grew, their minds expanded, and they were creative; but the chalk was stolen, and the stones were free.
Eddie and Edie had a long discussion concerning the living situation of the two families. They concluded: now that the children were getting older; they needed to live permanently in the new house each having their own bedroom. That meant Eddie and Edie would move back into the old house.
Together the family soon settled it. The families exchanged living quarters. Edie was the one moving back and forth. These kids were smart. They noticed the gift and in return they consistently picked up after themselves and helped around the house. They felt good and wanted to please.
Life moved on. Everyone seemed to be in their happy place. Everything felt right. Nothing could go wrong. It just could not. Also, nothing stays the same.
Stricken
In the wee hours of the morning before Thanksgiving suddenly there was a rumble with violent vibrations. The shaking and noise reverberated over the sleeping village as efficiently as thunderclaps. Windows shattered. Art fell off the walls. Cupboard doors flew open and dishes tumbled out crashing. This explosion threw the family house off its foundation and took a bite from the side and the roof.
By the time Kenneth figured out that his family was safe, he looked outside. The old house, the place his parents lived exploded with a fist of orange punching its way out, sending a burst of flames into the air and debris flying everywhere. A pillar of fiery smoke and dust boiled up.
In shock amid a mass of terrible sensations, he could not move. He could not breathe. All he could hear was the blow of the enormous explosion, the noise of the glass, the howling cries and shouts of Thelma and the children, and the alarms shrilling with rushing fire engines and the police. It was a whirlpool of horror.
He stood there shaking and screaming in pain unable to believe what his senses were telling him was true. The old family farmhouse gone. Then it hit him his mom and dad were in that house. Kenneth collapsed. Paramedics rushed in.
Thelma and the kids huddled smelling the burning acrid, chemical infused air and choking---no one could speak. They watched the dirty ash rain down and the black smoke billow toward the sky. Deafening alarms engulfed the area. They watched this inferno continue to burn.
Devastation set in. The news passed through this quiet countryside like a hurricane. The Red Cross, a humanitarian organization that provides emergency help and relief coordinated with the local church to give aid. The family needed a secure place to live until the repairs and inspections on their home declared it a safe living space.
Authorities worked at trying to figure out what caused the explosion. Fire investigators determined the explosion that killed Edie and Eddie caused by a natural gas leak and aging defective steel pipes with insufficient and improper maintenance. The blast of the explosion plus the fire that followed put their lives at risk.
Everyone needed mental health counseling. Some were angry, upset, wanting to lash out with aggressive and inappropriate behavior and others wanted to withdraw and push everyone and everything away. Kenneth lost his parents. Thelma felt she lost the only family she knew. The children lost their grandparents. How could life go on without them? Everyone struggled with feelings of abandonment. Confusion, mistrust, and fear enveloped them. As they suffered through this trauma, they needed time to express their frightening emotions. They needed time to feel secure enough to vent their true feelings. They needed time to heal.
One day Anthony wrote,
