Well, this is the first blog I ever wrote to be read by others. It's been said if you write it down, it may help. So here I go.
From what I can remember, it all began with a going away party for my dad. He was going to Korea for 13 months. All I knew was the Army was taking my Dad away. Taking him away and leaving me, my two brothers, my sister, and my Mom alone.
There was this huge long table cover with all kinds of picnic foods and drinks. Tons of people I didn't know and a few I did. All friends of my Mom and Dad. I think that was the first time I tasted beer. Yuck! Just a sip out of someones can sitting around the back yard. Wont try that again.
Next memory, Dad is gone. Mom got really sick. Year. 1972. I was 9. My Mom, a full blood German with a wonderful accent that all my friends loved was on her own with 4 kids. Mom had been dependent on Dad a lot. She didn't even have a drivers license. Until Dad left. She had to learn how to drive in her late thirty's. Because life went on as normal for awhile, nothing really stood out at this time.
Months had passed, maybe 7 or 8. And Dad was home. Why? Why wasn't I told anything? Come to find out Mon was really sick. She had her left breast cut off. Then she spent a lot of time in the hospital. LOTS. I still didn't know what was happening. I guess back then, you didn't share those things with your children.
Now I am on the playground at Cypress Elementary School in Highland California. For some reason, I see the school principal, Mr. Washington approaching Mr. Inman, my 5th grade teacher with the dreaded pink slip. They chat a few minutes and then both their eyes are looking at me and they start walking my way.
I am told to go to Mrs. Godwin's house. Where is my little brother? I'm told he will be there too. I so remember walking to her house and taking the longest route to get there. I know something is really bad if I get to leave school so early.
Arriving at the end of her driveway, I did not want to reach the front door. I knew inside me something wasn't right. I could feel dread filling my body.
Mrs. Godwin had this big dinner bell hanging outside her front door. We were told not to ring it. (We always wanted to ring it. At 10, it was cool, just the big swimming pool in her back yard). I rang it. Hard. Mrs. G. opened the front door and just stood there a few seconds and looked at me. That is all it took. I looked her straight in the eyes and said "My momma is dead isn't she?" Staring at her, she reached out and grabbed me up and started bawling. That day was April 4, 1973. My life had changed for the worse from that day on. It went downhill for years. Don't get wrong, there are always good things in life that happen at bad times in your life. As you read on, you will understand. All I remember about the funeral is the ride in the hearse and my best friend sitting by herself.
Next memory....My Dad has us four kids gathered at the front door in living room. He says "he is going to go pick up our new soon-to-be step mom. Now I am sure there is conversation before this about this, but I just don't remember. What I do remember is, my Momma died a month ago and my Dad already has a woman moving in our home? He even said that if we want too, we can call her Mom. WHAT? Out the door he goes to the airport. In the meantime, my big sister is explaining to me that she (the new woman) is from another country and she has a little girl about 3 years old. That was kind of interesting to me. But this lady will not be my Mom........
From what I can remember, it all began with a going away party for my dad. He was going to Korea for 13 months. All I knew was the Army was taking my Dad away. Taking him away and leaving me, my two brothers, my sister, and my Mom alone.
There was this huge long table cover with all kinds of picnic foods and drinks. Tons of people I didn't know and a few I did. All friends of my Mom and Dad. I think that was the first time I tasted beer. Yuck! Just a sip out of someones can sitting around the back yard. Wont try that again.
Next memory, Dad is gone. Mom got really sick. Year. 1972. I was 9. My Mom, a full blood German with a wonderful accent that all my friends loved was on her own with 4 kids. Mom had been dependent on Dad a lot. She didn't even have a drivers license. Until Dad left. She had to learn how to drive in her late thirty's. Because life went on as normal for awhile, nothing really stood out at this time.
Months had passed, maybe 7 or 8. And Dad was home. Why? Why wasn't I told anything? Come to find out Mon was really sick. She had her left breast cut off. Then she spent a lot of time in the hospital. LOTS. I still didn't know what was happening. I guess back then, you didn't share those things with your children.
Now I am on the playground at Cypress Elementary School in Highland California. For some reason, I see the school principal, Mr. Washington approaching Mr. Inman, my 5th grade teacher with the dreaded pink slip. They chat a few minutes and then both their eyes are looking at me and they start walking my way.
I am told to go to Mrs. Godwin's house. Where is my little brother? I'm told he will be there too. I so remember walking to her house and taking the longest route to get there. I know something is really bad if I get to leave school so early.
Arriving at the end of her driveway, I did not want to reach the front door. I knew inside me something wasn't right. I could feel dread filling my body.
Mrs. Godwin had this big dinner bell hanging outside her front door. We were told not to ring it. (We always wanted to ring it. At 10, it was cool, just the big swimming pool in her back yard). I rang it. Hard. Mrs. G. opened the front door and just stood there a few seconds and looked at me. That is all it took. I looked her straight in the eyes and said "My momma is dead isn't she?" Staring at her, she reached out and grabbed me up and started bawling. That day was April 4, 1973. My life had changed for the worse from that day on. It went downhill for years. Don't get wrong, there are always good things in life that happen at bad times in your life. As you read on, you will understand. All I remember about the funeral is the ride in the hearse and my best friend sitting by herself.
Next memory....My Dad has us four kids gathered at the front door in living room. He says "he is going to go pick up our new soon-to-be step mom. Now I am sure there is conversation before this about this, but I just don't remember. What I do remember is, my Momma died a month ago and my Dad already has a woman moving in our home? He even said that if we want too, we can call her Mom. WHAT? Out the door he goes to the airport. In the meantime, my big sister is explaining to me that she (the new woman) is from another country and she has a little girl about 3 years old. That was kind of interesting to me. But this lady will not be my Mom........
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