Since I was young I have few memories of those early days. I only know the stories that have been told to me from a variety of people. Like I said my parents battle turned into a full fledge war and it was all about money. My mother did not want to be divorced, so she dragged her feet. She also loved my father very much and was willing to forgive him for his variety of infidelities if he only asked for forgiveness. She had even found another woman that he had married while they were separated, but was still willing to forgive him after he had the marriage annulled. Over time she realized that the situation was hopeless and she divorced him, but she never remarried or even dated another man.
My mom had never held a real job and only wanted to be a stay at home mom. She felt that my dad should pay for everything, and she should have full custody. In retaliation my father paid for nothing. Dead-beat dads were not hunted down like they are today, and little happened to my father when he refused to pay for anything. My mother being stubborn did not try to find a way to pay for things herself, instead she just kept trying to get him to pay. My mother had been raised in a home where they were comfortable. She was used to having nice things, and expected them. This became a problem when there was no income coming into the home to pay for the nice things.
So the bill collectors came, first they came to take our furniture. My parents had also installed carpet over their wood floors to help keep the house warm for their children. Unfortunately no one paid for the carpet and so the bill collectors came into our home and shredded the carpet. My mom spent the evening picking up nails so my brother and I wouldn't cut ourselves and make things worse. Finally was the house. I laugh to think that their house payment was $125 a month and no one could pay it, because they thought the other person should.
Our church came to the rescue. They gave my mom a job as the church secretary and allowed us to rent a house on their property for one-fourth of her salary. The pastor who carried me home from the adoption agency, became my mom's boss and allowed my mom to watch over her kids and earn a living at the same time. The bill collectors did not stop and money was always tight. My dad did not contribute, and so food was something that was not plentiful. My mother learned a new way of life by being poor for the first time, and had to live without, but budgeting was not her strong point and it was a difficult journey for all of us.
I was three years old when my parents divorced. My memories begin with me sitting on the front lawn of our family home on the day of the move. I don't remember the inside of the house, but remember the church youth, moving our stuff, and our new home on the church property. My father became part of my past, I had no memory of him. This is how I protected myself, I simply forgot. My mind protected me from all the hurt and I began a new life in the tiny little house. My father disappeared from our lives or so I thought. My parents kept in contact on a weekly basis, but I never saw or talk to my dad. I knew he had a new wife, his third, although I thought there were many more by the way people talked about him.
So we began a life as three, my mom, my brother and me. Although there was one more person who was always around, and that was my maternal grandmother, I called her Granny. I was the youngest of her five grandchildren, and the only girl. She had three step-granddaughters, that she loved, but I was special to her and I knew it from a very young age.
Even though we were very poor, our family was very close, and I only have happy memories from those first few years on our own. Every Sunday we would go to my Granny's house for Sunday dinner. My mom's brother, and half-brother and their families would all come. The oldest of my male cousins, was my favorite. He would carry me around on his shoulders, and I felt 10 feet tall. Those were happy memories. In reality we could barely afford to eat during the week, and our clothes were raggedy. My mom was proud, and welfare was a sin in her mind, so we made do with what we had and we learned to live on very little. But I loved my family, I wanted to be just like my big brother, and our weekly gatherings were full of love and family.......if only it would last......but nothing does.....
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