I have been over the hill and on the downward slide for many years now and I have learned many things. The first lesson as a bride at the tender age of 19 was that a woman's job was cooking, cleaning, and figuring out how to budget with no money, because the paycheck never made it past the bar where it was cashed. My first husband was a tree trimmer and as such there were no fringe benefits and of course no insurance of any kind. No job security because it was also his job to knock on doors and convince the homeowner that their trees needed his expert care and their car payment could wait. He was good at his job!
It was also known that as "man of the house" he was the only one who knew what the finances were and he would take me to the grocery store and pay for what he thought we needed to survive. This same thought process carried over into the bedroom where birth control was unheard of because after all, his mom had 12 babies. OK. Enough said about that!
We were married for 10 years and the first two years were spent with him pointing out to me that I was barren and he wanted a baby. That was all he wanted, a baby. Well, actually a son. He wanted a son. I was sent to every doctor who had room for another patient and came home with the same verdict, "No reason why you can not get pregnant." One doctor even hinted that perhaps my husband was sterile and he would like to test his sperm. That went over like a proverbial "turd in a punch bowl. So, I gave up. Bad mistake! I immediately got pregnant!
Nine months later I had a daughter. He had clearly told me he wanted a son and I had ignored him! Ticked him off royally. Now, you should know that back in those days, men were not allowed in the delivery room so the best thing to do was drop the old gal off at the front door of the hospital and then call later to see if the wife was still alive and had she had that kid yet. And most importantly, when could I come home as there were chores needing my attention! So much for love.
A year and a half later I had a daughter.
A year and one month later I had a daughter.
11 months later he finally got a son. HE. Not me. HIM. Finally I had gotten it through my thick head that he wanted a son. Silly me!
If I had thought that having a son gave me any status in his eyes, you are sadly mistaken. Having a son was not all it was cracked up to be because the little boy needed diapers changed and he needed fed with a tiny spoon and a bath and all that was in addition to the needs of the first 3 girls. So the care of 4 children the oldest of which was 5 years old fell squarely on my shoulders. He was an "old school" father and his dad never touched him, so he never touched his kids. I have one picture of him holding Debbie and talk about a man looking out of place!
The marriage survived for ten years total. There was one more baby, another girl. Upon divorcing, I got the kids. He did not pay child support because his reasoning mind said "You have the kids. I have nothing. Why should I pay you? You should pay me!" And in my co-dependent mind, that all made sense.
Sadly, death called him early. He was only 50 years old. I left Kansas in 1973 and have been in Colorado now for over 50 years. This is my home. I think sometimes about moving back. Where is "back"? Would it be Nickerson where I grew up? Hutchinson where most of my kids were born? Or Garden City where they were toddlers and we lived in furnished apartments and drove a car we bought for $35 off a car lot on a side street?
I look out every morning through my east facing window and think about Kansas. I see the sun shining brightly and think of "home." And then in the evening I see the same sun setting across the Rocky Mountains and I smile. This is home. This has been home for 50 years and I am sure when God reaches down and pulls the curtain closed on my life he will lift me up, up, up and I will look down at the Rocky Mountains of Colorado and I will know where my home was, is and will forever be!
Always know that when God closes a door, he opens a window!
Peace....
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