still rest more comfortably in Daddy’s arms.
And although Irwin’s and Mommy’s story is interesting, it doesn’t identify who I am. I have compassion for how Mommy’s choices tormented her. I, too, have made some difficult choices that have caused me emotional suffering. And maybe her choices led to her early demise. That is most likely true.
But those choices don’t define me. I can be more than the sum total of Mommy and Irwin’s indiscretion.
*** *** ***
Many years ago, when I was 16 going on 17, I knew I’d found the man of my dreams and I clung to the vision of sharing my life with him. He would rescue me from my dire circumstances. And circumstances continued to be dire.
As I began my senior year at school, I finally had my first period. I’m sure the hormones surging through me because I’d met Barry finally overcame my resistance to accepting my female body. Those same hormones caused me to lose my temper with Mom, and she finally did something that she probably should have done years before: She slapped my face after I made some incredibly bitter remarks to her. I don’t remember the exact words, but I do remember her response.
Shortly after that, probably a month later, Dad took her to the mental ward at the hospital. She had become increasingly disoriented and unable to function, and since no other symptoms were visible, the doctors had no recourse but to place her there and subject her to shock treatments.
Bobbie returned home from school to help out. She insisted that I visit Mom at the hospital. After the first visit where Mom kept repeating that I should marry Barry, he would bring me happiness, and words of this sort, I refused to go see her again. It was terrifying to see her locked away in a mental ward with other crazy people and talking to me in this manner. But I never forgot her words.
My heart was broken and I couldn’t bear the pain. Life seemed to have defeated my Mother and I did feel partly responsible for this. Maybe if I’d complained less and helped more she wouldn’t be in this terrible place.
Six weeks later, she lay terminally ill. The doctors could not say what was causing her to die. My sister insisted again that I see her one more time. This time Mom was attached to tubes everywhere. There was no one to talk to, just a very still body with machines beeping all around.
One week later, she died. Bobbie came to school to take me from study hall and tell me the news. I immediately began to cry. She told me to stop crying. This wasn’t the time or place. We had work to do, a funeral to plan, and a brother and father to care for. The burden was on us to stay strong. So I stopped crying. Bobbie needed me to do that. It took me years to finally cry. I just couldn’t find the right time or place.
The doctors asked to perform an autopsy to learn the cause of death. It was determined that even prior to my brother’s birth she had cancerous tumors on her pancreas that ultimately spread to her brain. She wasn’t crazy after all, just filled with cancer.
Four hundred people came to the funeral in Akron. Everyone loved my Mother. I remember trying to be the perfect hostess and fixing breakfast for all our aunts and uncles who had come from Pittsburgh for the funeral. After the morning service a caravan drove to Pittsburgh for another service with family and then the burial. Mom was finally where she’d always wanted to be. She was home with family, albeit dead family, but still family.
I was asked to see Mom in the coffin. She was now heavily made up and dressed in her favorite silk dress. She looked beautiful but surreal. I didn’t recognize the person in the coffin. That wasn’t my mother. That was a dead person. My mother wasn’t there. I turned away and blindly went into the bathroom to get away. I found my cousin there. We talked about the new love in my life.
Barry had forsaken his other girlfriend and wrote to me constantly from the Navy. He tried to get leave for the funeral, but since we were not married, it was disallowed. He proclaimed his love for me over and over. And I wrote back with the same words to him. Now I had every reason to run to his arms.
Daddy lost his job and sank into a deep depression. I later learned from my brother-in-law that Daddy’s brothers had locked him in a room at the funeral home in Pittsburgh to complain that he was not paying back his debt to them. Daddy came home from this terrible event and collapsed into a chair in the living room. He didn’t work and barely functioned. Bobbie took a job and family friends contributed money to help us survive.
I was now on childcare and household duty full time when I wasn’t in school.
I was embarrassed that anyone at school knew what had happened. My homeroom class had sent a huge basket of flowers and I felt I should stand before the class and thank them. I hated doing this. I now had a mother who had died. I was a motherless child. I remember judging other kids who had families that weren’t “normal.” Now, I was officially one of them. None of my friends wanted to talk much about it either. So, we all pretended nothing had happened and I went back to just being a teenager in high school. I put on a mask and pretended.
But I couldn’t do that at home. From the moment I stepped through the door, I was a homemaker to my Dad and my sister, and a mom to my brother. I didn’t have the luxury of just worrying about me as most teens might do. That simply wasn’t possible.
Chapter 6
“All You Need is Love”
Barry was on furlough from the Navy at Christmas. Since Bobbie was now living at home, I asked if I could have time away to stay with Barry’s family in Cleveland over the holidays. Daddy was sitting in his chair in the living room and barely responded. Mother had died a month before and his thoughts were elsewhere. I could go.
Barry and I had only one thought in mind. We wanted time alone. His parents obliged by going to dinner one night, and we finally made love. This was a way I could feel alive even though the specter of death was all around me. I thought this would transport me, but instead I was stunned at how simple and uneventful the experience was. It was over in minutes and I had not really enjoyed myself at all. Of course, I didn’t let Barry know how disappointed I was. He seemed happy as could be. I didn’t know if it would ever be special for me too. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I felt our fate was sealed and now he would never leave me.
Meeting Barry’s parents was another matter all together. He had warned me that his mother had many emotional difficulties and I might be surprised by her behavior. From what Barry told me she seemed to lack the basic maternal instincts. Barry’s dad was a traveling salesman, and although he made a very good living, Barry’s mother spent way beyond their means and complained that nothing was good enough for her. Having things seemed more important than caring about her family. She also enjoyed drinking, and when in this condition could become quite argumentative.
One night we went to dinner at a very fine restaurant and after a few drinks, she began throwing food at Barry’s dad as she argued about the poor service we were receiving. I was mortified and very grateful when we left quickly.
I had never seen adults behave in such a manner, but this only renewed my resolve. Now, I would save Barry from his family, and he would save me from mine.
He would be done with the service in two years, and then the future was ours! After the holidays, Barry returned to the Navy and began his overseas
