Open Writing

My mom must have been a really good mom a some point in her life. She was a great cook, and she could sew rings around people. You don't do these things without being a good woman.

She had the greatest sense of humour. How I loved to see and hear her laugh. And everyone liked her. She had a lot of friends. And she had a heart of gold. I can't remember mom every lifting a hand to me except one time.

She told me stories of things that happened before I was born or was to young to remember. She said they had a young woman rooming in the house and had told the girl that she had to wrap her sanitary naps in toilet paper before throwing them out. I guess the girl didn't listen and just threw it in the garbage.
So moms looking out the window at my brother David outside playing cowboys and indians. She looked twice and went outside for a closer look and here David was tied around a tree with a sanitary napkin around his neck. She asked what was going on and he said " I got hit in the neck and I'm wounded". I thought that was so funny.

The one time mom hit me was when she found out Sandra was pregnant. She was only 12-13 years old. I just happen to walk in the big bedroom we girls had.

And wham-0 she started at me. "Don't you come home pregnant, don't you come home knocked up, or you'll be in reform school ". She must have thought it all out because I was always glad that she made the decision to keep the baby.

That had to take guts for her to do that. And I know it's something I would have done as well.

But Margaret was pregnant or already had the child. And they lived in our home on the third floor. It was a one bedroom apartment . These two babies were close in age. Maggie's hubby worked out of town.

I loved these two babies. What I couldn't understand was how the mothers could leave them night after night. Most of the time they didn't even ask me to baby-sit they'd just tell me as they flew out the door.

They didn't seem to think I needed a life as well. And they knew I wouldn't leave the kids. And most of the time mom would tell me where she was if I needed her.

So off Sandra and Maggie would go . Dad never seemed to go up to the third floor. Why I'll never know. So I always felt safe there. But they didn't have a toilet or tub up there. I would bathe the baby in the sink cause she was small enough.

I had to go to the second bathroom to bath. I was in the tub and the two babies where sleeping. I had the door locked. When all of a sudden I heard daddy coming up the stairs………………….then the banging on the door………..he's yelling "open the door, the record player isn't working.’’

I'm trying to get out of the tub as I thought that maybe he just wanted to go to the bathroom. I was fumbling to put something on and then he broke the door down.

There was a big window in the corner just beside the steps. Sixteen steps with steel plates on them to hold the rubber mat in place.

He kept yelling about records and such. So I thought that maybe he needed me to put some records on for him. The window was right behind me and the stairs were on my right.

Next thing you know I'm going ass over tea kettle down the stairs, NAKED,

I'm now in a panic. He's on the second floor, the babies on the third. He never goes there, but maybe tonight he will.

The front door is right in front of me. But I ran out the back door. Which was a long way back, three rooms to be exact. Why? Don't ask me. I guess that's what panic does.

Then…stupid me, I run to the front yard, and I ran over crusty snow. I'll tell you what crusty snow is. It's when it gets so cold that the snow turns to ice. Or it's been wet snow and then a big freeze.

I was running to the neighbours. Panic made me run to the front. There were cars going by but I guess they didn't take much notice.

Believe it or not, it was a minister and his wife that lived there. They took me in and listened to me. I kept yelling about the babies. I didn't realize that I was hurt.

It wasn't till later that I couldn't figure out how come my feet hurt me so much. I had a touch of frostbite on the bottom of my feet.

I don't remember who these people are but I always loved them and I knew they didn't want to talk to us much, probably because they didn't want to get involved. But that night they called my mom to come home, that I was hurt.

She came home A.S,A,P. Took me to the hospital. I had hurt my knee. They bandaged it and I was on my way.

The babies were okay. He never went upstairs.
When dad was drinking, mom didn't say much to him. But when he got sober she let him have it. Then he would leave me alone again for awhile.

He never called me Catherine, always Kid. Hey Kid, come here Kid. I was sure he never knew my name. But when he said jump, I said how high.

He was a lone drinker, the worst kind, so they say. He would bring home two to four cases of beer.

And oh how he loved his wine. It was cheap wine, and he always had five bottles.

Sometimes he'd be so quiet in the basement I wouldn’t realise he was there. Then he's say, "Kid, Kid, come here, I want you to meet my friend, so and so."

I didn't want to upset him, I'm in the basement with him now. He has a sofa down there and sofa chair. And there's this big wood box that he throws all the used newspaper in. Actually it's to start the wood furnace.

Anyway, he calls me to meet his friend. Well, there's nobody in the chair. He is so drunk he's talking to an empty chair.

I was scared and said hello to whoever. Then quickly said "I have to go daddy" and took off like a shot.

I felt sorry for him. I don't remember my dad ever having a male friend. He probably did it to himself. But people need friends. They’re the ones that will be with you forever. They're your true friends and they are precious.

Poor dad. Wish I could have helped him.

I can't remember a Christmas that he didn't fall in the Xmas tree. My oldest sister Marie, she says she can't remember a Xmas that he wasn't passed out on the floor.

My mom had to put up with a lot of things . It's just too bad that I was at the tail end of it and happened to get the brunt of it.

I don't think many would have put up with all the things she did. But she was a strong woman, I'll give her that.

And the boyfriends she took, I liked them all. They were all so different. Had a quality all there own. And mom, well I thought she was beautiful. If I were a man, I'd have grabbed her too.

She must have had a horrific life with my dad. We all would have done the same thing if we had been in her shoes.

In those days, you didn't worry about your children playing outside,. Or thought that a family member would hurt another family member. You didn’t' lock your doors with three or four different locks. You trusted your neighbour.

We didn't worry half as much as we do today. We'll never really have peace again. Only moments of it.