I often have thoughts that I think about and would like to put them down in a format to remember - such as memories, thoughts about good and evil, and such as that - that really aren't for anyone but for me - but I think I need to write them down and get them out there - maybe I'll find something good in all of this.
First, I want to record one of the most poignant memories that my husband, Floyd, has ever described - the day his mother left his family. His day started with his mom taking Floyd and his sister Laura to the babysitter's house to stay while she went to a doctor's appointment. She told Floyd that she had to go back to their house to get her purse that she had forgotten. Floyd knew that she would have to pass by the babysitter's house on her way to catch the bus to Portland, so he and Laura stayed in the front yard so they could wave goodbye to her when she passed by again. Though they stayed out in the yard all morning, his mom did not pass them again. His next memory is of asking his father about where his mother was, only to receive a blow that found him on the other side of the room after it. He learned not to mention his mom's name after that. From that point forward, Floyd and his sister were never allowed to communicate with their mother, although they did visit his maternal grandparents every summer. When his maternal grandfather died, they were not allowed to go to the funeral, because "she" might be there.
Eventually, we did make connections with his mother for a few years before she died; however, when Floyd asked his mom if there were any things that she missed after she left the family, his mom only admitted to missing her good chinaware, which disappointed Floyd to learn that she had not apparently missed her children.
She admitted that she was the kind of person who probably should have never married - or at least never had children. She was pretty self-consumed. Floyd recalls taking his sister (11 months his junior) by the hand and walking with her the mile or two between his house and the center of town - all of this before he was five years old - and asking for a job where there were men working on the courthouse. The man he talked to about getting a job, took them to the police department, where his parents found him. He also has memories of his mom tying him to a tree in the yard and telling him not to get away, which probably was after he had gone job hunting. Both of these memories indicate that the children (or at least Floyd) was probably aware of the tension between his parents, although for Floyd they are just dim memories of childhood.
His mom's second marriage, for which she left Floyd's family, also failed. However, she did manage to complete her education and get a degree to work as a school librarian, which she did successfully, I suppose. We also learned that at the time of her departure, she had learned that she was pregnant. Floyd's father was sure that it was not his child and refused to accept any responsibility. We have reason to believe that Floyd has a brother (or half-brother) that was possibly let out for adoption. We know that he has a half-brother, Michael, with his mother's second marriage, but we have never met him. He is younger than a child would have been at the time she left his family in 1953.
These are just some of the ghosts in my husband's past...such a different childhood from the one I had.
