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!
No comments:
Post a Comment