PROLOG TO MY GREATEST GIFT


In order to write about my Greatest Gift ever I need to go over some background material first. Some of this you might already know some you might not. So please bear with me.

When my Mom married my Dad the first thing Dad's Mom told Mom was not to have anymore children. "He's not meant to be a father," she said. "Or a husband."
Mom ignored Grandma Aggie's advice and over the next 8 years had 4 more kids.
Grandma it turned out was right. In the early days of Mom and Dad's marriage he really had no idea how to act as a husband or father. When things turned bad for Dad he began to drink more and more.
Dad had never been a light drinker. His first experience was with some moonshine at the age of 15. By the age of 25 he had a reputation as a man not to mess with when drunk. (Honestly you wouldn't want to mess with him sober either.)
Dad began to go from job to job. He was never fired. He would quit first in order to avoid it. But soon Mom and Dad were struggling for money. At one point they declared bankruptcy. At about the same time Mom and Dad packed up in the middle of the night and moved from the Kansas area to Iowa, near the Illinois border. They left almost everything they owned behind them.
This probably had something to do with an incident that happened when I was very young. I wrote about it once earlier in my blog but deleted it because I felt I didn't have the skill to write it. I was going to leave it out because I thought this was something that no one needs to remember. I've reconsidered because the story of my Dad loses something without it.
Dad had become a very abusive drunk. One night he was beating my Mom over something that no one remembers now. He beat her so bad that some of her blood was on the white kitchen cabinets. Mom grabbed a gun that Dad kept in the house and shot Dad in the left shoulder.
I call this my first memory but honestly I don't know anymore if I actually remember it or if it's a memory of a memory. When Dad sobered up he promised to never drink again, and told he was sorry for hitting her.
Dad tried to stop drinking. He even went into rehab. It didn't work out for him and soon he was drinking again. Soon he was getting mean again.
In 1973 when Mom was pregnant he still drank. He never touched her but sometimes he would get into loud arguments. I remember one such night sitting in my cold room with John. John thought perhaps if he ran away into the corn field maybe they would stop screaming and look for him.
As anyone who's read this knows Mom lost the baby and we soon moved again.
Dad and I had something in common during 1974. We both blamed ourselves for Mom losing the baby. I gave my Mom a glass of bad water. I thought (I was only 9 remember) that was why the baby died.
Dad blamed himself because of his drinking. His self hatred grew. Soon he was drinking far more then ever before. Dad was getting in more and more trouble at work. They even sent him to another rehab place to sober up.
Dad was really trying at this point, but he was still failing.
Sometime in later 1974 my brother Steve and his wife Kathy lost their first baby. She's buried near Penny. Dad reacted horribly. Soon he was drinking far more then ever. I never went to the funeral.
For both Dad and myself other then grieving for another lost child, it also brought up sad memories not even a year old. I began to think more and more of that glass of water I gave Mom. Dad was drowning his sorrows in more and more glasses of beer.
Mom and him began to argue again.
One day in late fall I was hiding in the garage. (I have no idea why but I'm sure it had something to do with Geno and John) I was up in the rafters so no one would see me. Dad came in and got into his car. Dad sat in the car for a long while. At first I couldn't tell what he was doing. Then I saw he was crying.
This stunned me. Even at Penny's funeral he never really broke down. Now here he was crying like a baby. It was one of the few times I saw him as a human being. I stayed hidden until well after he had left.
Dad felt like a failure. He had failed as a husband and a father. He knew he needed to change. He knew that if he didn't he'd lose his family and eventually his life.
Dad met a man named Jim soon after. Jim was the first alcohol and drug counselor in the area. In 1974 people didn't think they needed things like that. Dad was now 40. He had been drinking hard for 25 years. For the first time in all that time he now asked for help and meant it.
Jim knew Dad's history and knew that the odds for him weren't good. But Jim said he'd never give up as long as Dad wouldn't give up.
So in early October 1974 for one last time Dad went off to rehab. Mom and Dad both lied to us and said he was going off to some school to be a better exterminator, but we all knew what was happening. I was worried that Dad wouldn't be out in time for my birthday. My Mom assured me that he'd be out before Halloween. Over a month before my birthday.
"Good", I said.
I told my Mom that last year had been the worst birthday of my life and this year I deserved a happy one.
I was such a jerk for ever saying that to her. But like most 10 year olds all I could think of was myself.
But Mom and I were both right. Dad would be out in plenty of time for my birthday. And this year it would be a happy one.

This is all of us right after Dad got out of rehab. Geno is sitting next to Dad. I'm holding the pumpkin. John is the one with curly hair. Mom is behind Geno. The dark haired girl eminating evil is Rose.