Friday, 05 June 2009

• The Best of Times During Worst of Times

   by Mama Pig 

  

  It was 1997; I was twenty something and in a marriage that was doomed to fail. I was the mommy of two; one boy and one girl; married to a man I no longer felt anything but disdain for and trying to remember how to be a submissive wife.

  Mid February of that year I discovered I was pregnant with my third child. I guess I was doing okay with the submissive wife area of my life, because I was certainly not having sex for the fun of it. I can remember thinking at the time that perhaps this would turn things around. Maybe this was what I needed to rediscover the love I had once felt for my husband. The circumstances that followed proved to be the final downfall of an already fledging marriage, but overall has made me the woman that I am today.

  My father was a truck driver. He would often be home for a week or two and then be on the road for a month or more. He adored his only two grandchildren and would visit often while he was at home. His last night at my place before his next big trip was a fun evening. An innocent conversation between us turned into an eerie precursor of things to come. I remember telling him that he was going to be a grandfather again. Besides my husband; he was the only person to know. He was over the moon and couldn't wait until I began to show. The talk of the impending birth took us to another rather serious conversation. My father's company had just switched insurance carriers and he wanted to let me know that as of March 1st; he had a life insurance policy in which I was sole beneficiary. Never one to like having discussions like this; I laughed and said with the money I could finally buy me a new car. He stayed a few minutes longer, leaving only after he slipped me four hundred dollars for an upcoming trip to Vegas. He knew we were a young family and that money was tight. I was going on this trip with my mother and sister; both of whom had enough money to enjoy the week without worry. He wanted to make sure I didn't get left out. He kissed my cheek; told me "See you in a month; kid. Take care of those babies."  The next time I saw my father was in a funeral home.

  My father died somewhere in Tennessee. He was with his driving partner and long time girlfriend when he suffered a fatal heart attack. From what I was told; he was happily playing his hand held solitaire game lying down in the back of the rig. He was DOA upon arrival at the hospital.

  It was two days later that I learned of his death; on my answering machine no less. I had gotten home from Vegas only to leave town immediately to meet up with my husband and children at his parent's home. I knew after the second message that something terrible had happened to my father. I would spend the next week planning his funeral and making the arrangements to bring him home. Through all of this I remained very aware that I had a very new life growing inside of me that required me to stay as calm as possible. It was that baby that got me through those very dark days.

  Life moved on as it is known to do and we settled in to a life without my father in it. I celebrated my 28th birthday without a call from him and began my downward spiral into depression. Five days before the three month anniversary of my father's death; which happened to fall on Father's Day of all days; I received another devastating blow. My step father; the third most important man in my life; had entered the hospital the week prior suffering from appendicitis. He was sixty two years old and this was his first time ever as a patient in a hospital. He had come home that morning and the plan was for the children and I to head over late in the afternoon. He adored his grandchildren and was very hands on with them. I did not want to tire him out by bringing them over too soon. My sisters partner called me around four in the afternoon and I assumed it was to question what time we might be arriving. Instead, she frantically told me to get the kids and come right away. My step father had collapsed in the living room and was unresponsive. The ambulance had been called and they were rushing him to the nearest hospital. I grabbed the children; whom had been playing outside in a mud puddle; mud and all and ran out of the house. I made the twenty minute ride to my mom's house in less than ten. I was met by a volunteer fireman that looked at me with the saddest face I had ever seen. He took my hand and said quietly; you need to get to this hospital as quickly as possible, but please drive safely.

  My inlaws lived just down the street from this particular hospital and I had called before leaving my home. My father in law met me at the car and took the children. My husband had also been called and was rushing from work. I had no idea what was happening, but again; I had this child in my belly that I couldn't drop off at grandma's.

  I got to the hospital and looked around desperately. I saw no one from my family and the check in desk was full of people. A kind woman waiting for care herself let me know that they had just brought a family through into a private room and perhaps I should check there. A private room; in an ER? I began to shake because I knew this was not going to be good. We waited for almost an hour before they came out and let us know that he had never regained consciousness. I will forever remember the cry that escaped my mother's mouth. To this day it sends shivers down my spine.

  Once again I was faced with the task of planning a funeral. Admittedly, I took a backseat on this one, but the emotions were very much the same. It seemed that each of us was looking at the impending birth of my child as a way to make some sense out of this horrific year.

  We spent Father's Day at my step fathers grave. We each placed the cards we had purchased prior to this tragedy upon the freshly upturned dirt. My depression continued, but I did my best to put on a brave face for Garrett and Whitney and stay focused on the life growing inside me. I would not visit  my father's grave for over five years. I simply could not bring myself to go. I hated myself for it, but it was a demon I was to battle for years.

  Fast forward to September. That little baby was growing bigger and we were all looking forward to the arrival. We had a small baby shower for her, not really because I needed new baby things; Whit was not quite three yet and I still had all of her things; but more for us as a family. We wanted to show everyone that life was continuing on even in the face of such tragedy. We all knew that this was what they would have wanted.

  On the evening of September 28th; Miss Alyssa made her very anticipated debut. It was a bittersweet time for us all. This beautiful ray of sunshine had come into our world filling our dark days with the light of her smile. She was perfect and there was not a dry eye in that delivery room. My mother's best friend took the place beside my mother and I was thrilled to have her with us.

  Alyssa became known as "My Sunshine". She will never know these two great men that loved her long before they even knew her, but she does know the story of her nickname. She used to ask me to tell her the story of that year because it always ended on such a happy note.

  Unfortunately; there have not been many rays of sunshine these last seven years for Alyssa. She was the youngest; four; when her father and I split for good. It was an ugly time and one I am not proud to have been a party to. For years she had been the bright spot in a very bad marriage and it suddenly became a fight to the death on which parent would end up with not only her, but the other two as well.

  For sake of length I end the story here. In a moment of absolute honesty; I also chose to end here because the next part of this story is difficult for me to tell. If you haven't been bored to death yet; look for part two in the next few days. I am telling her story because it has been a long time coming. She is the child I speak the least about and I think it is time you guys got to know her.

  • 6:09 PM
  • 2313 Views
  • 16 eProps
  • 7 Comments