Grandma's Chapter One

Chapter One

         I was working hard, hard to be a good mother, working hard to make a good living, working hard to move from my parents house and make a home for me and my child.

         The depression was setting in making nothing any easier.  I came from people who believed you held up your head, took the licks that life was apt to throw at you and keep moving forward with your life.  After all there was nothing that good hard work couldn't cure.  You didn't snivel about how bad things were because you were usually the cause of it and if you made your bed you must lie in it. 

         So at the age of twenty-three and the mother of one I looked or tried to look at the options for my life.  I was still living at home with my parents and working in an airplane factory for a job.  So many men and no one, but no one gave me a second look.  There were no dates no time out away from baby unless I was at work.  The agreement with my Mom was she would babysit while I was at work but not at any other time. After all she was the Grandmother not the babysitter and that was the way she wanted it kept.  So I took my son with me everywhere and actually it was no big deal. I enjoyed my time with him.  What was happening though was even though I was surrounded by family, I was completely alone. I began feeling very lonely, very wronged by my own actions. Started coming down on myself because of my situation and all my wrong choices.          

         One day after work there was a knock on the door and as I answered it I saw a very likeable man with a pleasant voice asking me where my brother was.  Well my brother was in the Air Force at the time and was stationed in Texas.  I conveyed that to the man and he struck up a conversation with me.  He asked me if I'd like to go to dinner with him and I told him I had a baby and would have to bring him along. That was no problem to the man. So we sit out for an evening that had a very pleasant feel to it.

         He told me he had just got back to town and was staying at his grandmother's house for the moment.  So we sat in a parking lot and got to know each other.  He seemed truly interested in me as a human being and that got my attention.  The lack of money never alarmed me as I came from a family that lived paycheck to paycheck ourselves.

         After I came home from work each day he would call me and make it over to see me. Sometimes we just sat on the porch or out in the grass while my son played. He payed so much attention to me and my son.  I thought it was going so good.  My mother didn't like him though. She said she had a bad feeling about him. I told her she never liked anyone I did.  He told me the reason he was back in town was that he had just got out of the penitentiary for a parole violation.  His original crime was forgery.  Nothing violent, and he had learned his lesson.

         I had been working at the factory long enough to have a vacation coming.  Well actually every year the last week of June and the first week of July the plant would shut down.  So I decided to save some money, apply for a credit card and go to visit my brother in Del Rio, Texas for that two weeks.

         Of course my Mother thought it was just wrong for me to go off on a long trip with just me and my baby, who would be six months old by then.

         I was talking about my trip with the gentleman who had knocked on my door, whose name was Paul and he suggested that he come along and help me with the driving and taking care of my son.

         Well I knew that my Mother would not approve of that so I considered the offer very carefully.  I wrote things down in those days to help me to decide on important issues.  I had no idea my Mother knew this and would go in my room and read what I had written as a way of keeping tabs on me.  She knew of my intentions to bring Paul with me on my vacation but didn't say anything for a long while.  I went on with my plans carefully figuring out how much I would need for gas, meals, motel rooms and of course extra spending money.

         Shortly before my departure my Mother just blew up at me.  How could I do such a thing?  Taking a strange man with me, one who had been in prison no less.  How could I know that this man wouldn't just kill me and my son and dump us on the side of the road?

         I explained to her that he had not shown any signs of violence with me or my son.  He accepted my son as if he were his own son.  He was kind, loving, funny and caring about both of us.  I told her that my mind was made up and Paul was going with us to see my brother.  After all Paul knew my brother before he knew me.  Surely he was alright because my brother was friends with him.

         We went to Del Rio, my son and Paul and myself to visit my brother.  We had a great time.  I loved all the attention Paul payed to me and my son.  I felt safe and secure with Paul. On the other side of things I believed that because no one else was interested in me that it maybe this was a sign of sorts that I should be with him.

         On our way to Del Rio we made a couple of sightseeing stops.  I got to see the Alamo for the first time. It was so awesome and Paul seemed to know so much about the history of the battle.  Everywhere we went Paul knew how to get there, to navigate in what was for me totally foreign places. 

         To me Paul seemed a well educated man with a great memory. In my book that made him more intelligent than me.  I looked at him with awe at his vast knowledge he appeared to have.  He had served in the Marines and Vietnam where he had been shot.  He showed me the scar from that injury. At least that is what he told me.  Said that because of his security clearance there would be no record that he had even served  in the armed forces. 

On that trip he told me the story of his service days.  He had signed up under the buddy plan and his friend from high school had joined with him.  They had both enlisted in the Navy.  One night he went into the head and found some enlisted men beating up another because they believed he was gay. Paul flew into a rage and beat up all three or four guys and put three in the hospital, one was not expected to recover.

         He told me that at that point the Marines wanted him to transfer to their unit.  He did, where he went to Vietnam and was involved in many main battles of the times.  Until which time he was shot.  While in the hospital recovering he beat up the Dr. treating him because he looked like a “gook”.  He was then court martialed because he spit on an officer and was dishonorably discharged.

    After being discharged he was sent back to the states where he went back to his grandmother's house to stay.  Upon recovering from his wound he began life once more here in the United States.  While he was away he found his wife had divorced him and married another man.  Told me he came into that house and threw her new husband through the picture window in the front room.  He told me that she moved away and never allowed him to see his daughter again.  Melissa Sophia was her name he told me and he was certain that one day he would find her and have her in his life once more.

    We got to Del Rio and spent a lot of time with my brother.  We went over into Mexico and kicked around, did some shopping, found my dress I wanted to get married in and bought it.  Paul was always so thoughtful and kind.  He made me laugh and feel desirable.  I couldn't find anything wrong with him. In the back of my head though was this nagging little voice, I thought it was my mom, “This isn't right, it isn't what it seems.”  Sure, not what it seems, but where, what was it that wasn't right?

    We got back home on the fourth of July, it was hot.  I was tired from the trip and had gotten sick on the way home.  There was this red cloud in the air that had traveled from Mount St. Helen's across the United States and it had hit the states of Texas and Oklahoma and Kansas on our way home.  So Mom doctored me till I felt better.  I don't remember a lot from that time as it has been many years since I even thought of it.

    I do remember that over the following weeks my relationship with my Mom got really stormy and it took everything I had to tolerate it.  Well I thought I was tolerating it anyway.  Then all of a sudden I began to get sick everyday about ten am.  So I made an appointment with my Doctor to make sure every thing was alright.

    At the time of my appointment my Doctor sat down with me for a chat.  He was young and I was able to relate to him and felt comfortable talking with him.  He asked me how my home life was.  He was my Mother's Doctor too so he knew a little about the family.  I told him it was OK.  He pressed me, asking how me and my Mom were doing together.  I finally admitted it was strained and told him why.  The Doctor explained to me that it was my nerves causing my problems and he felt I should move from my folks house now, not next week, but today.

    Wow, what a bombshell to my life.  Where would I go and how could I afford it?  I had my car payment, car insurance, school loan, how could I throw more bills on top of what I have now?  I needed someplace to think and just hide for a while.  So I called Paul and arranged to go by and see him.  He said no problem his grandparents were going away for the weekend and I could stay there with him.  I remember him showing me all kinds of things that weekend, proof he was discharged from the service, proof of his daughter, proof of his divorce. I am a little slow at times and didn't realize what any of it meant.  I know now that he showed me these things to prove to me he didn't lie.  Building a foundation of truth to build lies on.

    On that Saturday I found an apartment for an affordable price and snatched it up.  I went by Mom's to pick up my things.  Oh that was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, other than telling them I was pregnant.  My Mom was yelling and screaming at me telling me she was sure that the Dr. hadn't told me to move.

    It broke my heart, I couldn't tell her that the Dr. actually had told me to move.  If I told her that she would never have gone back to him.  So I moved into an apartment with a baby bed, a kitchen table and chairs and high chair, dishes, towels, clothes, no furniture, except my TV.

    I needed a babysitter if I were to continue working.  I called an old friend of mine. She was available for the moment so I made arrangements for her to show up at my place while I worked. I thought it was working fine, Paul's grandparents had given us a bed and a dresser. We had

found a old couch out by the trash dumpster we brought it in took off the two legs that were left on it and put a sheet or blanket over it.  Then my friend seemed a little overwhelmed about something, she wouldn't tell me what just that she could no longer watch my son.  I couldn't expect Paul to watch my son, after all it wasn't his.  Besides everyone knew that watching children was the woman's job. During this time Paul told me that he was out looking for a job.  Job's are hard to come by when you are on parole.  I think that in the beginning he actually did hunt for a job and occasionally he actually had one for a week or two.

    The questions were beginning to form in the back of my mind.  I could never find the answer's though.  I had no idea why my friend up and quit, I had no idea what Paul actually did when he wasn't home. Sometimes he would bring home money and wouldn't tell me where he got it.

    That particular trait was in our marriage the entire twenty-three years.  There were beginning to be many questions with no answer's. Lots of secrets, lies.  I had no idea what was going on.  Then the fighting began.