Anitiyah Continued

I was supposed to be writing about my youngest. When we drove down to Leadville in 1963, we had a VW bug. It was green. The two older kids road in the back seat, and the baby was in the back window storage space. So if she fussed, we had to stop the car, and I would retrieve her from the space and take her up with me in the front seat. It was a cramped trip and we did not take much with us as there was not much room to do that. We had to have diapers, etc for the kids, well, really for the baby. I nursed the baby so that was taken care of as far as food was concerned for her, but it was a hectic trip.

When we finally made it to the apartment on the second floor, it became a blur because of the logistics of two kids in one room, and a small travel cot for the baby in our room until we could get a crib for her. So two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. Basic! I remember a few things, such as Anitiyah learning to crawl in the living room, on our old oriental carpet that had belonged to my Grandmother. We had a Christmas tree in one corner at Christmas and there are some pictures of the kids and Anytiyah laying on the carpet reaching out for goodies. I am vague as to time frames of finally being able to buy the Lot SW of town, and then getting a well dug, and ordering our house which was a manufactured home. It was not big, a bedroom, small bathroom, small kitchen, dining area, free standing fireplace, and living room. There was a staircase up to the second floor which involved the roof in the two bedrooms, but huge storage area under the eaves. The kids were upstairs, and Anitiyah switched rooms over time, giving the older kids a bit of privacy for a time. The baby was still in a crib, so I would roll it back and forth. My son told me that after I would tuck them all into bed, as I went back down the stairs, a monster would raise up out of the vent that allowed heat to rise into the bedrooms, and he would have to hide under the covers. Sometimes he would call me back, but he never told me about the monster until her was way older.

What a time. I was trying to keep myself together, do some kind of job, be with the kids and take them out exploring in the summers, and trying to be a wife to a husband who worked all week, different shifts, would go climb mountains with climbing buddies in the summer, and was a ski patrolman in the winters. I was so naive, and lonely, and don't know if I was much of a Mother other than loving my kids. I admit to turning to other people for friendship and not making very good decisions at times. But I also had been very sick with the kidney problem that was finally solved. I would wander the woods at times, just lost in what I should do to correct the situation. In the midst of all of this, while walking with a neighbor with my three kids and her two kids, in these same woods, we came across a body of a young man lying with his head up to a tree and a gun laying on his chest. My oldest child went running toward this scene, and we all called her back. She was amazed at the sight. She was pretty tough even as a young girl. This poor soul had been there a bit. I remembered noticing that the hands were an orange color.

We turned back, called the Sheriff and my neighbor took the Sheriff out to the site. I kept the kids at our house. I also fell apart. I think this was the final ending for me. I pinned the curtains together at night imagining someone creeping around outside. I took a trip to some friends who had moved to Albuquerque, insisting that I needed to just get away, and my husband took care of the kids. I drove my little Saab, which barely made it back up all the hills to Leadville. It was when I got back and we fought verbally, and roughly, that I decided to take the trip to Washington and visit my Mother. I drove us all, three kids, a cat, and myself.

I made it to Grand Junction, drove into a gas station for gas, and the car vapor locked. I sat there crying, sort of bumping my head on the steering wheel wondering why I couldn't even get out of Colorado. A young man who worked at the station came out and asked what was wrong and when I told him, he said he would push me, and to turn on the engine, and slip it into gear when I got a little speed up. It worked, and didn't let the car get very empty again, and drove on into Idaho, and a motel with a swimming pool for the kids. My oldest was my engineer and map reader, and helped me keep things going. By the time we got to the motel, I had a raging headache, and needed the respite. The kids really had a good time swimming and playing in the pool, and we had a dinner, and we all slept long and hard. Next stop, with my long driving days, was my Dad's in Washington. Going up I5 I was really getting sleepy, all the way from Portland, OR, and kept stopping at every rest stop and rested. The kids were so good I couldn't believe it. They must have sensed we were embarking on a new life. My youngest who had wet her bed almost every three nights never wet it again. It was like the tension was lifted and it felt so good to all of us.

More to come!

Anitiyah!

New apartment, Leadville, and a long stairway out the back for the kids to go in and out. Three kids in one bedroom, the oldest was 4, next 2, and the two week old baby. I don't know how we managed to stack everything up in that three room apartment, but we did. The oldest girl was starting to have some temper flares that involved almost having some kind of fit like a seizure. The middle child, son, developed asthma, and had many episodes of breathing difficulties, and the little baby was just trying to fit in and get some attention with all this upheaval. There was one hospitalization for my son with his asthma where the next day I was told they almost lost him. There was no call to us. I was alarmed by this as we certainly should have been informed. But the Dr. attending him was the one who liked breasts, so I guess I should have known. And after a couple of years I developed some symptoms that were un-diagnosible for the local doctors. I would feel fine in the early morning, but then develop nausea, and back pain through the day. They used ultra sound on my back, 'to break up the focal point of pain', and then they clearly decided I was a hypochondriac as they kept telling me I was pregnant. I protested and mentioned that there did not seem to be a new baby. There were two doctors, one was distant and uninterested, and the other was too interested, kept wanting to examine my breasts and would. He would never have a nurse with him, and I should have suspected something. I was naive, and sick, and just wanted help. He also used to follow my car if he crossed my path. I should have reported him to someone, but I just felt too tired and ill.

Finally I wrote home to our family friend and our doctor of many years. I was so sick, that I wrote the bare symptoms which gave my family doctor and idea and he wrote back and told me to get home immediately or go see a colleague of his in Colorado Springs. I got an appointment right away with the colleague, and under great distress, considering the children, and my husband's job, and trying to figure out how to handle all of this, I got a diagnosis of a kidney problem called a fallen kidney. No wonder I was so sick. I was booked for surgery in about 2 weeks, my Mother came out to take care of the children, and I expected to lose a kidney. ( My husband would come down on weekends to visit, and stay with a friend from my college days. Husband would tell me about strange magazines and books that my friend had lying around. I had to giggle as I knew my friend was gay. ) The doctor decided that my kidney looked good enough to try and save, and tied it up to my ribs. I still have the kidney even though it was a long haul to heal and feel better and for years I would get infections very easily. I had lost a lot of weight, and the kids had more upheaval. Before the time of this event, we had managed to find a Lot NW of town and had a manufactured home put on it for 'our place'. We had 5 acres, I think, of woods around us, our own well, and electricity into the Lot, and wonderful deck looking out into the woods.

There were good times, hikes in the mountains, our yard to play in, learning to ski. But my life was crumbling. I decided to try working again. I was a window dresser for J. C. Penney's, and then got a job teaching skiing up at the local ski area. I earned enough to buy a little Saab 2 stroke car. Zoom I called it. The kids could go to the area with me, ski, and then play in the day care with the other kids. My husband was a ski patroller at another area most weekends, and in the summer he was off climbing mountains. I began to wander. I would take the kids on trips into the mountains with a lunch, and we would explore. Or we would stay at home and amuse ourselves. The oldest went to school, walking a pretty long way until they finally got a bus going for our area. I would walk her through the woods to the next street over, and my son would keep an eye on the baby. Lots of times I would come back and Aniy would be crawling around the house. It took some time figuring out how this could happen, me suspecting my son of her liberation. She had found a loose bar in her play pen. She just pushed it aside and crawled out, and my son did not see it happen. My oldest daughter would walk home and bring me flowers that she said she found in the woods, but I am sure she found in peoples yards. We would discuss the propriety of this, but the lecture would not last.

I will continue this story concerning the further breakdown of my ability to maintain a place in my first marriage. To be continued!