My sister was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was about 8 years old. In order to pay for the medical/mental help she needed, Dad worked 3 jobs and Mom worked 2. I was one of the original latch key kids.
Dad was stationed at Millington for a tour of Instructor's duty, worked at the enlisted men's club on base as a bartender and managed a pizza hut on weekends. I would often go with them to pizza hut. At that time, they still had bars and bar stools in the Pizza Hut. I would get a pitcher of Root Beer, a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza and a bar stool and there I'd sit and entertain myself for 6 or 7 hours. People started coming in and hanging out while placing bets as to whether or not I'd finish an entire large pizza on my own. It would take me all night, and it was thin crust, but most nights I'd give that large pizza a beat down. That may explain the stringent culinary rehab in which I find myself currently. But that's another story for another day.
On the nights that I didn't go to Pizza Hut or have school the next day, I'd wait up for Dad to get home. He'd roll in from the Enlisted Club around midnight which was just in time for the Friday/Saturday night Double Feature with Sivad (which I later discovered was Davis spelled backward. I was disappointed by that particular revelation. Davis was sooo NOT scary.) Anyway, it was a double feature of scary movies which I LOVED but could not watch alone. So, after having gotten up before birds and sunlight and working 18 to 20 hours a day, Dad would come home, put on his pj's and lay on the couch. He'd lay on his side. Then, I would crawl up and sit on his side and watch both scary movies, generally while peeking through my fingers as soon as the scary music started. I'd watch both features while Dad sawed logs. His snoring was a comfort and reassurance that he was there to protect me from the evils of the world and the monsters on the screen. When the second movie was over, I'd climb down, wake up Dad and he'd go get a couple more hours of sleep before he had to get up and do it all over again. If I tried to watch a scary movie alone, I'd have nightmares and hear every creak and rattle in the house. But as long as Dad was in the room, I was safe. No nightmares or sleepless nights.
Till the day he died, even though I didn't hear it nearly as often, whether it was a soft rumble or a roof rattle, I was comforted by the sound of him sleeping. On the rare occasions when he slept silently, I'd barely sleep at all. The silence was deafening. Once I moved out of the house, it took me a long while to get used to the sounds of night without Dad's rumbles.
I can watch scary movies alone now, sometimes peeking through my fingers, but I still have trouble sleeping if it's too quiet.
Sleep well Papa.
2.28.2012
2.27.2012
Can Your Daddy Come Out to Play?
We lived in Rhode Island for a year when I was six. That was when/where Dad made it official and adopted me. We lived in a one bedroom trailer. One of those silver ones. When I asked my mom where I was going to sleep, she said, "In the closet in the kitchen." And sure enough, there was a closet with sliding doors in the kitchen. When you opened the doors, there were several side by side drawers with a countertop, and then another shelf above that. The drawers were perfect as my dresser but the actual plan was for me to sleep on the sofa. I was so excited about sleeping in the closet though that they didn't have the heart to tell me they were teasing. So, my dad bought some dense foam and cut it to size and mom got me sheets and pillow. Eventually, they built a room onto the trailer and much to my great disappointment, I moved into a real room.
Across the street from the trailer park was a field. Then, it went nearly straight up and a bit further back from that was woods. When it was warm, it was where all the kids gathered for games of kickball, freeze tag and football. The neighborhood held an Easter Egg hunt. I didn't find any eggs but a little girl gave me one of hers. The BIG thing though, was the snow. The kids all came out with their sleds and dogs and trash can lids and card board boxes and we'd creep up to the top and slide down the side of the hill. Sometimes, it looked like we'd keep going till we hit the street but we never did.
We would put plastic baggies on our hands and feet to keep our gloves and socks dry and we'd stay out as long as we could. I got a sled for Christmas that year. Dad would lay down on his stomach. Duffy, our dog, would jump up and sit between his shoulders and then as many kids as would fit would hop up on his back and down the hill we'd go. The more kids that piled on, the farther and faster we'd go. We'd stay out till we either got tired or wet and then we'd go home to dry out. Often, we'd just get done peeling off our wet coats, gloves, hats and shoes, and Mom would make us hot chocolate. One day, the first occasion that would become many, we were sitting at the table with our hot chocolate when we heard a tiny wrap at the door. Mom answered. One of the neighbor kids that we didn't actually know very well stood there. "Can your daddy come out to play?" Mom turned and looked at my dad. Dad looked at Mom. She smiled and he went to bedroom for dry socks while she dug out more plastic bags. Out he went, with my sled and the dog, and as I watched from the window, dad, the dog and the neighbor kids, piled on and went up and down that hill till nearly dark. We got to have more hot chocolate when he came home. We'd listen to Elvis till I fell asleep.
Across the street from the trailer park was a field. Then, it went nearly straight up and a bit further back from that was woods. When it was warm, it was where all the kids gathered for games of kickball, freeze tag and football. The neighborhood held an Easter Egg hunt. I didn't find any eggs but a little girl gave me one of hers. The BIG thing though, was the snow. The kids all came out with their sleds and dogs and trash can lids and card board boxes and we'd creep up to the top and slide down the side of the hill. Sometimes, it looked like we'd keep going till we hit the street but we never did.
We would put plastic baggies on our hands and feet to keep our gloves and socks dry and we'd stay out as long as we could. I got a sled for Christmas that year. Dad would lay down on his stomach. Duffy, our dog, would jump up and sit between his shoulders and then as many kids as would fit would hop up on his back and down the hill we'd go. The more kids that piled on, the farther and faster we'd go. We'd stay out till we either got tired or wet and then we'd go home to dry out. Often, we'd just get done peeling off our wet coats, gloves, hats and shoes, and Mom would make us hot chocolate. One day, the first occasion that would become many, we were sitting at the table with our hot chocolate when we heard a tiny wrap at the door. Mom answered. One of the neighbor kids that we didn't actually know very well stood there. "Can your daddy come out to play?" Mom turned and looked at my dad. Dad looked at Mom. She smiled and he went to bedroom for dry socks while she dug out more plastic bags. Out he went, with my sled and the dog, and as I watched from the window, dad, the dog and the neighbor kids, piled on and went up and down that hill till nearly dark. We got to have more hot chocolate when he came home. We'd listen to Elvis till I fell asleep.
2.25.2012
Let Me Tell You About My Dad
So, let me tell you about my dad.
My mom was married, had 3 children. I was the third. Unfortunately, it was not a match made in heaven and when I was about nine months old, she gathered the courage, or her sense of survival kicked in, something - but she packed up her kids and her stuff and left Buffalo to return home to Corpus Christie. A few years of struggling, socializing and...
Doug and Gloria met at a party - she a divorcee' that worked at a jewelry store - he a Petty Officer, 3rd class (for those unfamiliar with the military, that's one stripe which isn't very many). She had been introduced to him once before and was unimpressed. But a few weeks later, she had gone to the party with his roommate (who by the way, thought Doug and Gloria were a match made in heaven even though he was dating her. I believe his name was Jack. Well, as all good sailor's do, Jack took Gloria to the party and began to enjoy the plentiful and obligatory liquid refreshment. Before anyone realized it, Jack was too drunk to behave and was going around and pinching the other wives, and just enjoying a bit of healthy military mayhem. Someone found Doug and suggested that he do something about his roomie before things got ugly. Now, Doug was a pretty good sized fella with a good stiff swing but Jack was a gooder sized fella with a stiffer swing. So, Doug looks for some commotion and finds Jack. He walked up from behind, started to walk past him and just as he did, Doug swung his arm back, caught Jack in the chin with his elbow and Jack went down like the giant. When asked why he knocked him out Doug just simply explained, "If I didn't knock him out, he'd have been able to hit me back and he would have killed me." So Jack is out like a light and Gloria has no ride home. Doug of course, being the designated clean up crew offers her a ride. He walks her to the door, and says - "I'd really like to see you again. But, if you're not interested in something lasting, permanent and serious, don't waste my time." Gloria contemplated that for a moment, shrugged and said, "ok". (I did not get my communicational gifts from my mother:c) A few weeks later, Doug sat us three kids down and asked if we would allow him to become our daddy. He asked my sister, the eldest, first, then my brother, then me. I remember sitting on the couch and watching him ask us one at a time. When he got to me I gave him a resounding YES! and at that moment, the REAL love affair began. A couple of days later, Doug asked Gloria if the kids could have a dog. She said "NO!" The next day, he showed up with the cutest puppy that we called Duffy. About six weeks or so after the party, Doug and Gloria were married. And the pattern for the next 47 years was set.
My mother and I have always had a tenuous relationship. We don't understand each other very well. We don't think alike, we don't communicate well. But one thing's for certain; she knows how to pick her sailors.
My mom was married, had 3 children. I was the third. Unfortunately, it was not a match made in heaven and when I was about nine months old, she gathered the courage, or her sense of survival kicked in, something - but she packed up her kids and her stuff and left Buffalo to return home to Corpus Christie. A few years of struggling, socializing and...
Doug and Gloria met at a party - she a divorcee' that worked at a jewelry store - he a Petty Officer, 3rd class (for those unfamiliar with the military, that's one stripe which isn't very many). She had been introduced to him once before and was unimpressed. But a few weeks later, she had gone to the party with his roommate (who by the way, thought Doug and Gloria were a match made in heaven even though he was dating her. I believe his name was Jack. Well, as all good sailor's do, Jack took Gloria to the party and began to enjoy the plentiful and obligatory liquid refreshment. Before anyone realized it, Jack was too drunk to behave and was going around and pinching the other wives, and just enjoying a bit of healthy military mayhem. Someone found Doug and suggested that he do something about his roomie before things got ugly. Now, Doug was a pretty good sized fella with a good stiff swing but Jack was a gooder sized fella with a stiffer swing. So, Doug looks for some commotion and finds Jack. He walked up from behind, started to walk past him and just as he did, Doug swung his arm back, caught Jack in the chin with his elbow and Jack went down like the giant. When asked why he knocked him out Doug just simply explained, "If I didn't knock him out, he'd have been able to hit me back and he would have killed me." So Jack is out like a light and Gloria has no ride home. Doug of course, being the designated clean up crew offers her a ride. He walks her to the door, and says - "I'd really like to see you again. But, if you're not interested in something lasting, permanent and serious, don't waste my time." Gloria contemplated that for a moment, shrugged and said, "ok". (I did not get my communicational gifts from my mother:c) A few weeks later, Doug sat us three kids down and asked if we would allow him to become our daddy. He asked my sister, the eldest, first, then my brother, then me. I remember sitting on the couch and watching him ask us one at a time. When he got to me I gave him a resounding YES! and at that moment, the REAL love affair began. A couple of days later, Doug asked Gloria if the kids could have a dog. She said "NO!" The next day, he showed up with the cutest puppy that we called Duffy. About six weeks or so after the party, Doug and Gloria were married. And the pattern for the next 47 years was set.
My mother and I have always had a tenuous relationship. We don't understand each other very well. We don't think alike, we don't communicate well. But one thing's for certain; she knows how to pick her sailors.
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