2000-04-05 - 01:22:11

THE WONDERING JEW

The Dogie

Dear Mom, It is going on 57 years since you left for the better land through the doors of death.

I never had the opportunity to let you know how deeply I love you.

I have felt deep guilt for years, I should have taken time to come back home and tell you how much I learned from you and how I could see the loving care you and Granny lavished on me, which was so much more than this renegade deserved.

You would love your first grandson, of course being junior that makes him the 3rd and the following four grandchildren. The youngest Heather (after her Mother) is so much like you in personality and her ways are as if you taught her at your knee. Although Heather has always had a deep seated joy inside of her, I do believe she was born mature and went from there. The 3rd grew up to be strong, steadfast and a good husband and father of two, whose daughter just had the latest great grandchild of the family. He is a deeply God fearing Quaker who is quite active in church.

Our oldest girl Hermione named after one of my favorite poems, has had a tragic life, and strange to say, had the life just as Granny foretold. Sad to say her names were not the magic I hoped for. Her first child was a SID baby, later she attempted suicide, and for years was in a custodial care facility because no one had a place for a brain damaged young person who was aware but couldn't speak. She was finally taken into an assisted living residence of brain damaged people where she has a few responsibilties to the group and her own personal care, such as her laundry, etc. only being helped where it is actually needed. Good behavior is expected of the residents there and she is well behaved and so much happier in a place where she is liked and understood. She cannot speak, but understands what is said to her and cooperates quite well. She lives close enough that Heather and I can visit her at least once a week, usually taking her to her choice of McDonalds or Burger King where she has her favorite cold drink, a big hamburger and a bunch of french fries which makes her very happy.

Our middle daughter Jennifer, who was the baby girl of the family until the last addition (a girl)came along. She has your loving nature and will to work but unlike you has never wanted to work a job away from home. The only reason she attended school and made passing grades was to please her Mom and I. Just wanting to have her kids and keep house and raise a family. Which she did, with three children. She has done well too. I know you had to work a job from an early age to help Granny and your little brother, but I wonder Mom, if times hadn't been so hard you would have stayed home with me and maybe brought me a brother or sister ? How I longed for one, either kind.

You made our house warm and welcoming and gave me a feeling of having a number of siblings, a magic I could never fathom.

The second son, William was the next to last child born to us. He is long, slender and looks a lot like the picture you have of Grannie's brother John. He was born with a Grecian cap of ringlet curls, classic in appearance and after years of fighting his hair it still curls and is attractive. His schooling was troubled but he enlisted in the Navy when he was old enough and profited from the training he received. He went in as a high school dropout and came out as a super adult man. He married, had two girls, he divorced - - but he and his ex shared in the raising of them. They became well loved members of our family. They are also married and living apart from their parents. It is doubtful to me that he will ever marry again, too much baggage from the first. He is a believer and attends church regularly.

Heather and I battled with each other as we raised kids, it was mostly over the lack of money. As the kids married off and left home it got easier and we became at peace with each other and found out we still loved each other.

I am now retired and we have enough coming in to enable us to survive and live just a little.

Me ? What can I say ? I finally obtained a GED in 1963 and later attended and passed a year at tech school in electronics. I was sent by the state rehabilitation department due to my bad back and inability to work the jobs I knew. The back I injured at the newspaper station when I was twelve years old gradually became creaky over the years and went into degenerative arthritis.

In 1977 when I became eligible to join Kaiser Permanente HMO they found that my spine was too messed up for surgical repair. So through the years I held the pain to a minumum with stronger and stronger NSAID's, at the same time becoming an alcoholic and going into recovery from that.

When my heart became involved I had to learn to to white knuckle my way from there on without pain killers.

Mom, I miss you so, and need you near me more than I did while growing up, but for a different reason.

I would like to give you the kindness and care you gave me, cherish you and make your life pleasant. Spoil you a little bit. You certainly deserved it after the years of work, worry and illness you lived through.

One more bit of History, in 1997 we had a disastrous auto wreck. We both were wearing our seat belts and Heather, although shook up very badly, soon made a good recovery from that. Even so, she had the short end of the stick as my neck had been broken and she saw me through the hospital stay, the months of physical therapy and the attendant worries. I think the whole thing was harder on her than me. All I had to do was recover. Heather had to take care of all the many details of our welfare and survival. She did all this with no complaint through her love for me and her care for a crippled human being. No resentments, just love. She is my greatest inspiration.

I will try to find time to write you again and go more deeply into all our history since you departed.

I love you and miss you and hope to meet you in another place. I just have one question Mom, I don't feel like it . . . . . but, please tell me, am I grown up yet ? ? ? ? ?

Your loving and lonesome son,

Bastion

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