Dear Teresa,
Got your letter yesterday and Phil and I cracked up over your drawing! You know, I bet you could really draw good, like your daddy, if you'd work at it. Does it interest you any? I've always wanted to try my hand at oil painting, although I'm sure I don't have any born talent for it. But if I could learn the basics I might pass.
I'm glad you can make some money this summer, but I'm also glad you're having fun. You're only young once, so enjoy it! I missed out on so much, by getting married so young. I guess that's why I act like a kid so much. Never got it out of my system!
I talked to Charlotte yesterday, and told her to cal me if she gets to feeling too bad, and I'd come stay with her and help out. I sure hope she can carry the baby full term. She promised she'd let me know, if she needed me. She said David had called Granny about three weeks ago from Arizona, and that he was coming back to Fort Worth. I'd sure like to see him. I can't imagine him being twenty-one years old. I'm just glad he's not in jail. I pray for him all the time, even though I didn't know where he was.
Erma Bombeck has several good books. One's "At Wits End" and "The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank" and "I Lost Everything In the Postnatal Depression". They're all so funny. You can probably get them at the library. Phil and I go to the library all the time. We both love to read, and I joined a book-of-the-month club too.
I went to the dentist today. I had three cavities I had to fill, and I have that broken tooth to get fixed (thanks to Buddy!). It's going to cost me $240 to get it fixed. But it's in the front so it has to be done. He filled two cavities today and I'll go back and get the other one filled, and then after the first of next month, I'll get the broken one fixed. I'll sure be glad to get it done. It made me so self-conscious because it looked so bad.
I'm letting my hair grow out again, but I think I'll get it frosted again. That gives it more body, and covers up the gray. I'll have to wait awhile though, because I want my teeth fixed first.
I talked to Nanny last week, and she sounds awful nervous. But you always are, after an operation like that.
I've beet getting a tan too. No, I never do burn real bad, and I never peel. I hope you can come down this summer so we can go down to Galveston.
Well honey, I guess that's all for now. Have fun and let me hear form you. Remember, I love you.
Love, Mother
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Conversations With the Dead: 6/5/79 Houston, Texas
Dear Teresa,
Got your letter yesterday. I really had worried when I didn't hear from you, but I thought you might have gone out of town or something.
Phil and I thought we might have found you a pet you could keep, but it didn't work out. He found it out on the job. It was a turtle (or terapin, I don't know which) and it was about six inches long. He was kind of pretty, because he had orange spots all over his head and legs, and orange eyeballs! But he wouldn't eat! We asked at a pet shop what they ate, and they said vegetables and fruit, but he wouldn't eat. I don't know if he was too scared, or what. Anyway, we let him go because I was afraid he'd die. And you should have seen Charlie! It was so funny. He watched him, and followed him around all the time. And when I'd put him in the bathtub in a little water, his shell made all kinds of noise, and Charlie would sit in there with him. (And he usually won't go near a bathroom, because he's so afraid he'll get a bath!).
I wrote mother a while back and I sent her a get well card, but I haven't heard from her. Charlotte didn't say what was wrong with her. Why don't you ask her and let me know? Charlotte still hasn't written.
Phil and I went to see the Battleship Texas weekend before last, and went through it. It was real interesting. He said when you come down, we'll go to Astroworld. I think it's kind of like Six Flags. And we both got us a bathing suit so we can go down to Galveston. There are a lot of things to see down there.
Do you have any pictures yet you could send me? I wish I had my camera, but it's packed in all my stuff.
Well honey, I guess this is all. Hope your sunburn is okay by now. Be sweet and let me hear from you. I love you, very much.
Love, Mother
Got your letter yesterday. I really had worried when I didn't hear from you, but I thought you might have gone out of town or something.
Phil and I thought we might have found you a pet you could keep, but it didn't work out. He found it out on the job. It was a turtle (or terapin, I don't know which) and it was about six inches long. He was kind of pretty, because he had orange spots all over his head and legs, and orange eyeballs! But he wouldn't eat! We asked at a pet shop what they ate, and they said vegetables and fruit, but he wouldn't eat. I don't know if he was too scared, or what. Anyway, we let him go because I was afraid he'd die. And you should have seen Charlie! It was so funny. He watched him, and followed him around all the time. And when I'd put him in the bathtub in a little water, his shell made all kinds of noise, and Charlie would sit in there with him. (And he usually won't go near a bathroom, because he's so afraid he'll get a bath!).
I wrote mother a while back and I sent her a get well card, but I haven't heard from her. Charlotte didn't say what was wrong with her. Why don't you ask her and let me know? Charlotte still hasn't written.
Phil and I went to see the Battleship Texas weekend before last, and went through it. It was real interesting. He said when you come down, we'll go to Astroworld. I think it's kind of like Six Flags. And we both got us a bathing suit so we can go down to Galveston. There are a lot of things to see down there.
Do you have any pictures yet you could send me? I wish I had my camera, but it's packed in all my stuff.
Well honey, I guess this is all. Hope your sunburn is okay by now. Be sweet and let me hear from you. I love you, very much.
Love, Mother
Conversations With the Dead: 5/22/79 Houston, Texas
Dear Teresa,
Got your letter yesterday, and it was real sweet with all the "Happy Mother's Day". I also got a telegram Charlotte sent me about Nanny being in the hospital for surgery. She said it wasn't serious, but I wonder. Mother's not one for having surgery or anything to do with hospitals, unless it's pretty drastic! Charlotte sent it the 15th and I don't know why I didn't get it until yesterday, unless it was because we were out of town this weekend. But seems like I should have gotten it by Friday the 18th, before we left. Phil and his boss and his girlfriend and I went to a resort place that his boss has an interest in, to do some work. It was really nice. I'd like to take you when you come down. It'd be a lot of fun. You can go canoe riding down a river (it takes about 4-6 hours) and they have a huge slide that goes down a big hill into some water. And it's so pretty. The water is so clean, etc. And we could take Charlie. He'd have a ball. Phil has a camper, too, you know, but if it's real nice, we could camp out. It'd be fun. We could barbecue, etc.
I'm glad you liked the bookends. I was afraid they'd be too "childish" but they were so cute and unusual, I just couldn't resist them. I like unusual things like that. Do you get a chance to read very much? If you go to the library, look up all the books by Erma Bombeck. She is so funny! She reminds me of me, as a mother! Some of her books are At Wits End, I Lost Everything In the Post-Natal Depression, The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank and Just Wait Till You Have Children Of Your Own. You'll laugh yourself silly! She's a lot like Phyllis Diller, only better. Phil and I go to the library every week, nearly, and get about eight books a piece. We read all the time. And I'm studying for my GED too, so I can get my high school diploma, since when your Daddy and I got married I quit school. (That's one of the dumbest things I ever did. Of course I have a few more on my list too, ha).
As far as pets go, all I can think of is something you could keep outside, like rabbits, etc., or maybe goldfish, etc. There ought to be something you could get.
Phil and I have picked up a new hobby. Have you ever seen that string picture art? He's nuts for ships and he's made two real pretty pictures for the living room and I made a small one of a snail with a butterfly on its back for the bathroom. They're fun to make. I may make you one, and send it to you. Phil always did like to do things like that. He does real pretty leather work too, and he's building one of those model ships. (We've got ships all over the house. Even have a lamp with a ship as a base!).
Well, it won't be long until school will be out. What day do you get out? It's in June isn't it?
I was sick last week and had to go to the doctor and get a shot and some antibiotics. But I'm getting over it now. I hate to feel bad. Guess I'm getting old, ha.
Tell Charlotte I didn't get her telegram until Monday. I'll get mother a get well card today, if it'll stop raining long enough to go to the store. They spotted a tornado this morning. It was really bad.
How is Granny doing these days? Didn't she break her hip or something?
Well honey, I guess this is all my news. And don't be self-conscious about being pretty. The good Lord made you that way 'cause He wanted to. But I know what you mean about not knowing what to say. Just say Thank You, I guess. Be sweet and let me hear, and save your money so we can have a lot of fun shopping! Phil says "hi" back.
I love you, very much!
Love, Mother
Yes, Nanny had surgery to have her teeth removed, I think for dentures. The surgery will go fine but she'll get a nasty infection.
The bookends were of old school house desks made of wood and iron and I used them forever, probably kept them for another fifteen years until they fell apart.
I did eventually read Erma Bombeck, more than a year after you died, from your own collection. I gathered them from the house on Bellgrove, from a wall of shelves behind the recliner where they found you.
I am glad you are getting your GED. You are forty-one years old and smoothing out regrets.
I never did get a pet. I think Pat and Charlene were relieved when the hamster I moved in with died shortly after I arrived.
The string art. I distinctly remember my one and only visit to your Wirt Road address. I was sitting on the sofa in the depressing apartment you shared with Phil, holding one of his completed ship projects. It looked cheesy to me, even back then. Too hollow, too thin and fragile in a cheap way. It was something you would find dusty on a card table at a garage sale. It might go for fifty cents or a dollar. No soul.
I don't know why the apartment was depressing but it didn't help that we never once left it. Maybe it was all the ships, lost in the sea of Phil's morose energy. It reminded me of the apartment you shared with Jimmy and how all that ended, him on a park bench naked. All the "fun" you promise in your letters is hollow, thin strings, tiny nails on black velvet collecting unreachable dust. Like the cheap art Buddy had of Spanish dancers and bull fighters, props for a sitcom. You became the men you chose. Ships and string art? Where were you?
I felt old today at 46. You felt old at 41. I guess things begin to creak in that fourth decade. You won't make it to the fifth.
Granny didn't break a hip. It's funny how you often said when she complained all the time about her health, "She will outlive us all." How precient. She will outlive you by a decade, unable to recognize any of us, completely gone.
I paused as I typed your closing, when you said you love me. I let the cursor blink on the words "...very much!" while I tried to feel you, to reach back through thirty-two Mother's Days, to remember your voice.
Got your letter yesterday, and it was real sweet with all the "Happy Mother's Day". I also got a telegram Charlotte sent me about Nanny being in the hospital for surgery. She said it wasn't serious, but I wonder. Mother's not one for having surgery or anything to do with hospitals, unless it's pretty drastic! Charlotte sent it the 15th and I don't know why I didn't get it until yesterday, unless it was because we were out of town this weekend. But seems like I should have gotten it by Friday the 18th, before we left. Phil and his boss and his girlfriend and I went to a resort place that his boss has an interest in, to do some work. It was really nice. I'd like to take you when you come down. It'd be a lot of fun. You can go canoe riding down a river (it takes about 4-6 hours) and they have a huge slide that goes down a big hill into some water. And it's so pretty. The water is so clean, etc. And we could take Charlie. He'd have a ball. Phil has a camper, too, you know, but if it's real nice, we could camp out. It'd be fun. We could barbecue, etc.
I'm glad you liked the bookends. I was afraid they'd be too "childish" but they were so cute and unusual, I just couldn't resist them. I like unusual things like that. Do you get a chance to read very much? If you go to the library, look up all the books by Erma Bombeck. She is so funny! She reminds me of me, as a mother! Some of her books are At Wits End, I Lost Everything In the Post-Natal Depression, The Grass Is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank and Just Wait Till You Have Children Of Your Own. You'll laugh yourself silly! She's a lot like Phyllis Diller, only better. Phil and I go to the library every week, nearly, and get about eight books a piece. We read all the time. And I'm studying for my GED too, so I can get my high school diploma, since when your Daddy and I got married I quit school. (That's one of the dumbest things I ever did. Of course I have a few more on my list too, ha).
As far as pets go, all I can think of is something you could keep outside, like rabbits, etc., or maybe goldfish, etc. There ought to be something you could get.
Phil and I have picked up a new hobby. Have you ever seen that string picture art? He's nuts for ships and he's made two real pretty pictures for the living room and I made a small one of a snail with a butterfly on its back for the bathroom. They're fun to make. I may make you one, and send it to you. Phil always did like to do things like that. He does real pretty leather work too, and he's building one of those model ships. (We've got ships all over the house. Even have a lamp with a ship as a base!).
Well, it won't be long until school will be out. What day do you get out? It's in June isn't it?
I was sick last week and had to go to the doctor and get a shot and some antibiotics. But I'm getting over it now. I hate to feel bad. Guess I'm getting old, ha.
Tell Charlotte I didn't get her telegram until Monday. I'll get mother a get well card today, if it'll stop raining long enough to go to the store. They spotted a tornado this morning. It was really bad.
How is Granny doing these days? Didn't she break her hip or something?
Well honey, I guess this is all my news. And don't be self-conscious about being pretty. The good Lord made you that way 'cause He wanted to. But I know what you mean about not knowing what to say. Just say Thank You, I guess. Be sweet and let me hear, and save your money so we can have a lot of fun shopping! Phil says "hi" back.
I love you, very much!
Love, Mother
Yes, Nanny had surgery to have her teeth removed, I think for dentures. The surgery will go fine but she'll get a nasty infection.
The bookends were of old school house desks made of wood and iron and I used them forever, probably kept them for another fifteen years until they fell apart.
I did eventually read Erma Bombeck, more than a year after you died, from your own collection. I gathered them from the house on Bellgrove, from a wall of shelves behind the recliner where they found you.
I am glad you are getting your GED. You are forty-one years old and smoothing out regrets.
I never did get a pet. I think Pat and Charlene were relieved when the hamster I moved in with died shortly after I arrived.
The string art. I distinctly remember my one and only visit to your Wirt Road address. I was sitting on the sofa in the depressing apartment you shared with Phil, holding one of his completed ship projects. It looked cheesy to me, even back then. Too hollow, too thin and fragile in a cheap way. It was something you would find dusty on a card table at a garage sale. It might go for fifty cents or a dollar. No soul.
I don't know why the apartment was depressing but it didn't help that we never once left it. Maybe it was all the ships, lost in the sea of Phil's morose energy. It reminded me of the apartment you shared with Jimmy and how all that ended, him on a park bench naked. All the "fun" you promise in your letters is hollow, thin strings, tiny nails on black velvet collecting unreachable dust. Like the cheap art Buddy had of Spanish dancers and bull fighters, props for a sitcom. You became the men you chose. Ships and string art? Where were you?
I felt old today at 46. You felt old at 41. I guess things begin to creak in that fourth decade. You won't make it to the fifth.
Granny didn't break a hip. It's funny how you often said when she complained all the time about her health, "She will outlive us all." How precient. She will outlive you by a decade, unable to recognize any of us, completely gone.
I paused as I typed your closing, when you said you love me. I let the cursor blink on the words "...very much!" while I tried to feel you, to reach back through thirty-two Mother's Days, to remember your voice.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Conversations With the Dead: 5/5/79, Houston, Texas
Dear Teresa,
Got your letter yesterday and had been watching for it. Today is Saturday and Phil had to work but I have a lot to do around here. Need to wash my hair (I'm letting it grow out again. Phil wants me to. He just doesn't like my hair short!) and mop and wax the kitchen, etc. If it'll ever stop raining, and the sun comes out, I'm going to get out on the back porch and get me a suntan. I bought me some halters yesterday and I can wear my short shorts. My bathing suit is in Weatherford (as is everything, except my clothes) so I'm going to get another one. I'll get my stuff, but I'm not going to worry about it right now. It'll still be a while before we can make a trip up there.
I'm glad you all get to go see Nanny. I know how she and Windy enjoy it and you kids haven't gotten to be around her like you should. She's nearly sixty, you know (don't tell her I said that!) and her blood pressure is so high I worry about her, even though she and I are having a little trouble now. I wrote her and told her I was sorry for everything that's happened so maybe it'll be alright in time. I hope so.
Yes, I hope Charlene understands and lets you come. I have the legal right, but I don't want to go into that again, unless I have to. I think Charlene is smart enough to be sensible about it though. And I'm pretty sure your daddy is. By the way, how is he doing anyway? Is he with Granny or what? By the way, we have a radio that has an 8 track tape player in it, so since you're so rich (ha) get one you like and you can play it when you come down. Who all do you babysit with?
Since you don't have a pet, you'll really enjoy Charlie. He loves attention. And he's so sweet natured. Of course I'm spoiling him rotten! So you can help me, when you come. And any kind of store you want is near here, so we can go shopping while Phil's working. I'm going to get me a car one day, but there's no rush. I've got some other things to pay off first.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. Be sweet, and always remember I love you. Tell Charlene and Pat Hi for me. Phil says Hi.
Love, Mother
P.S. Would you believe this (mauve) is the exact color of our bathtub, etc.? Wild, huh?
Yes, Nanny is disappointed in you and tired of trusting only to be disappointed again and again. You break her heart, only she doesn't express it that way. You can read it in her face, behind her gruff exterior, in the way she looks out the front door of the trailer when she grows uncomfortable talking about you. There are only three years left, three years to make your peace with her. When the time comes, almost too late, she will call for you. You will stand over her bed in a hospital room and her eyes will open for just a moment and you'll hope it isn't just delirium when she smiles.
There are documents in the black doctor's bag I still have of yours where you kept what you considered important - pictures I drew, letters, photos, receipts, several letters from attorneys and custody orders. One order in particular caught my eye, "In The Interest of Teresa Lynn Williams, A Child", and these two sentences, one that said Dad "waived issuance and service of citation by waiver duly filed and did not otherwise appear", and the one that followed saying you "appeared in person and by attorney and announced ready for trial." This document decreed that Pat and Charlene "are hereby appointed Managing Conservators of the child, Teresa Lynn Williams. An earlier order stated: "...the retention of the present custodian would be injurious to the welfare of the child..." They were referring to Dad as "present custodian".
When I first read these documents I was hurt because you gave me away to an aunt and uncle I hardly knew. Now I realize this was a wise choice as Dad's confused state and shock created an unstable environment. Charlene and Pat were well educated, stable, successful. I learned from them, as foreign and lonely as their world felt sometimes, and that knowledge has made all the difference.
At the time of this letter, Dad is drifting between Granny's house, which is our old Crenshaw address, and someone he refers to as "Hog Woman". Her name is Vivian and she lives on a hog farm. Her second and third toes are fused together. She is simple, something you weren't. They will date for about a year and then she will become my stepmother, a marriage that will last eighteen years until one day she up and runs away with a Dominos Pizza delivery boy.
Wild, huh?
Got your letter yesterday and had been watching for it. Today is Saturday and Phil had to work but I have a lot to do around here. Need to wash my hair (I'm letting it grow out again. Phil wants me to. He just doesn't like my hair short!) and mop and wax the kitchen, etc. If it'll ever stop raining, and the sun comes out, I'm going to get out on the back porch and get me a suntan. I bought me some halters yesterday and I can wear my short shorts. My bathing suit is in Weatherford (as is everything, except my clothes) so I'm going to get another one. I'll get my stuff, but I'm not going to worry about it right now. It'll still be a while before we can make a trip up there.
I'm glad you all get to go see Nanny. I know how she and Windy enjoy it and you kids haven't gotten to be around her like you should. She's nearly sixty, you know (don't tell her I said that!) and her blood pressure is so high I worry about her, even though she and I are having a little trouble now. I wrote her and told her I was sorry for everything that's happened so maybe it'll be alright in time. I hope so.
Yes, I hope Charlene understands and lets you come. I have the legal right, but I don't want to go into that again, unless I have to. I think Charlene is smart enough to be sensible about it though. And I'm pretty sure your daddy is. By the way, how is he doing anyway? Is he with Granny or what? By the way, we have a radio that has an 8 track tape player in it, so since you're so rich (ha) get one you like and you can play it when you come down. Who all do you babysit with?
Since you don't have a pet, you'll really enjoy Charlie. He loves attention. And he's so sweet natured. Of course I'm spoiling him rotten! So you can help me, when you come. And any kind of store you want is near here, so we can go shopping while Phil's working. I'm going to get me a car one day, but there's no rush. I've got some other things to pay off first.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. Be sweet, and always remember I love you. Tell Charlene and Pat Hi for me. Phil says Hi.
Love, Mother
P.S. Would you believe this (mauve) is the exact color of our bathtub, etc.? Wild, huh?
Yes, Nanny is disappointed in you and tired of trusting only to be disappointed again and again. You break her heart, only she doesn't express it that way. You can read it in her face, behind her gruff exterior, in the way she looks out the front door of the trailer when she grows uncomfortable talking about you. There are only three years left, three years to make your peace with her. When the time comes, almost too late, she will call for you. You will stand over her bed in a hospital room and her eyes will open for just a moment and you'll hope it isn't just delirium when she smiles.
There are documents in the black doctor's bag I still have of yours where you kept what you considered important - pictures I drew, letters, photos, receipts, several letters from attorneys and custody orders. One order in particular caught my eye, "In The Interest of Teresa Lynn Williams, A Child", and these two sentences, one that said Dad "waived issuance and service of citation by waiver duly filed and did not otherwise appear", and the one that followed saying you "appeared in person and by attorney and announced ready for trial." This document decreed that Pat and Charlene "are hereby appointed Managing Conservators of the child, Teresa Lynn Williams. An earlier order stated: "...the retention of the present custodian would be injurious to the welfare of the child..." They were referring to Dad as "present custodian".
When I first read these documents I was hurt because you gave me away to an aunt and uncle I hardly knew. Now I realize this was a wise choice as Dad's confused state and shock created an unstable environment. Charlene and Pat were well educated, stable, successful. I learned from them, as foreign and lonely as their world felt sometimes, and that knowledge has made all the difference.
At the time of this letter, Dad is drifting between Granny's house, which is our old Crenshaw address, and someone he refers to as "Hog Woman". Her name is Vivian and she lives on a hog farm. Her second and third toes are fused together. She is simple, something you weren't. They will date for about a year and then she will become my stepmother, a marriage that will last eighteen years until one day she up and runs away with a Dominos Pizza delivery boy.
Wild, huh?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Conversations With the Dead: 4/24/79, Houston, TX
Dear Teresa,
Well, guess what we did this weekend? We moved to a much prettier apartment! It sure is nice, and has two swimming pools! The front door is two big sliding glass doors, and off the kitchen it has another sliding glass door that goes out onto the little patio (we're upstairs). It's so much nicer than the other one, but the main reason we moved is nothing but a bunch of thugs and thiefs [sic] were moving in over there. In fact, they stole Phil's plumbing tools out of the pickup, stole our friend Doc's car, etc. And it's going to take a lot of money to replace his tools. And being a plumber, he has to have them. And this apartment doesn't cost any more than that other one did. And the landlady here is a dog lover, so we had no trouble about having Charlie! I can't wait until this summer, so maybe you can come down for a few days. We'll have a ball.
I guess you heard that Charlotte is pregnant? I talked to her a week or so ago and ask [sic] her if I could borrow some money and she deceided [sic] I was drinking and said no. But I was using Doc's phone (the daddy of the "nut" that hurt Phil and died) and I couldn't really sit there in front of him and talk about all that to explain why we were short on money, so I told her you'd explain. But my checks are still not comming [sic], and of course Phil had to be off work so long, and all I wanted was a loan. But I guess any time I ask for money, people think I'm drinking. But it's okay, because I know I'm not. But there just wasn't any way I could really explain with Doc there listening. Anyway, we made it, and we're really happy at our new place. I want to give you the new address and also ask a favor of you. The landlady thinks Phil and I are married, so when you write, address it to Rogene Hust. That way I'll be sure and get it, because Hust is what's on the mailbox.
I'm so glad you enjoy working at the hospital and I understand, because I loved it when I was at the nurseing [sic] home. In fact, I even envy you a little. You're getting to experience a whole lot more than I did. But I'm glad for you, and proud of you that you like it. It takes a certain kind of talent to enjoy that kind of work. Not everyone has it.
Boy it sure was a job moving! (We lived upstairs over there, and this is upstairs too). We had to carry all that heavy furniture, etc. But we had to get it all done over the weekend because Phil had to go back to work Monday. But we're having a lot of fun fixing it up and all. And Charlie loves it.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. I've still got a lot to do around here. And I hate to ask you to write to me as Hust, but I think you understand. There's really no way to call me here, but as soon as we possibly can, we're going to get a phone. And call the "fart" for me and give her my new address and tell her how to use Hust. (Not that she'll write, but you can tell her anyway!). And you can explain to her why I couldn't talk that day too. So I'll close for now and write me soon. We both love you.
Love Mother
Northwinds Apartments
1714 Wirt Road, Apt. 18
Houston, Texas 77055
All I have to say to this is: You're drinking again.
Well, guess what we did this weekend? We moved to a much prettier apartment! It sure is nice, and has two swimming pools! The front door is two big sliding glass doors, and off the kitchen it has another sliding glass door that goes out onto the little patio (we're upstairs). It's so much nicer than the other one, but the main reason we moved is nothing but a bunch of thugs and thiefs [sic] were moving in over there. In fact, they stole Phil's plumbing tools out of the pickup, stole our friend Doc's car, etc. And it's going to take a lot of money to replace his tools. And being a plumber, he has to have them. And this apartment doesn't cost any more than that other one did. And the landlady here is a dog lover, so we had no trouble about having Charlie! I can't wait until this summer, so maybe you can come down for a few days. We'll have a ball.
I guess you heard that Charlotte is pregnant? I talked to her a week or so ago and ask [sic] her if I could borrow some money and she deceided [sic] I was drinking and said no. But I was using Doc's phone (the daddy of the "nut" that hurt Phil and died) and I couldn't really sit there in front of him and talk about all that to explain why we were short on money, so I told her you'd explain. But my checks are still not comming [sic], and of course Phil had to be off work so long, and all I wanted was a loan. But I guess any time I ask for money, people think I'm drinking. But it's okay, because I know I'm not. But there just wasn't any way I could really explain with Doc there listening. Anyway, we made it, and we're really happy at our new place. I want to give you the new address and also ask a favor of you. The landlady thinks Phil and I are married, so when you write, address it to Rogene Hust. That way I'll be sure and get it, because Hust is what's on the mailbox.
I'm so glad you enjoy working at the hospital and I understand, because I loved it when I was at the nurseing [sic] home. In fact, I even envy you a little. You're getting to experience a whole lot more than I did. But I'm glad for you, and proud of you that you like it. It takes a certain kind of talent to enjoy that kind of work. Not everyone has it.
Boy it sure was a job moving! (We lived upstairs over there, and this is upstairs too). We had to carry all that heavy furniture, etc. But we had to get it all done over the weekend because Phil had to go back to work Monday. But we're having a lot of fun fixing it up and all. And Charlie loves it.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. I've still got a lot to do around here. And I hate to ask you to write to me as Hust, but I think you understand. There's really no way to call me here, but as soon as we possibly can, we're going to get a phone. And call the "fart" for me and give her my new address and tell her how to use Hust. (Not that she'll write, but you can tell her anyway!). And you can explain to her why I couldn't talk that day too. So I'll close for now and write me soon. We both love you.
Love Mother
Northwinds Apartments
1714 Wirt Road, Apt. 18
Houston, Texas 77055
All I have to say to this is: You're drinking again.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Conversations With The Dead: 3/21/1979, Houston, Texas
Saturday
Dear Teresa,
Got your letter today and thought I'd better get busy and answer it. We had to go buy groceries and get me a new pair of shoes. It rains so much here, the shoes I wear for every day get ruined in no time.
I'm real glad about you getting to work in the hospital as a candy striper. I loved working at the nursing home. But I sure got myself involved with them. Even when I was off work, I talked about them all the time. I think Jimmie even got jealous after a while! I just hope you can go on to be a nurse. It doesn't pay a whole lot of money (more if you go on to be a RN) but it's rewarding in a lot of other ways.
I'm studying to get my GED since I didn't get to finish high school, and when I get it I think I'll go to the VA (Veterans Administration) and see about going to school. You can take just about anything you want to and they pay you $260/month to go. I'm eligible for it because of being Jimmie's widow. As long as I don't remarry, I can go to the base and buy groceries, etc., and I have insurance that pays 75% of all my doctor, hospital and drug bills. Plus the $314 I get a month. So you can see why I don't want to get married. Anyway, I'll get my GED first, then after I see what courses I can take, I'll probably start school. May end up a real "brain child" at 39 years old! Ha, ha.
This summer we're planning on getting a bigger apartment. I sure hope Charlene will let you spend some time with me. Maybe we could take off and go down to Galveston. There are a lot of places to go around here and we could have a lot of fun.
Charlie seems (our dog) to be a lot better, so I don't know if that vet was lying just for the money or not. But I'm still going to take him to another vet and have him checked. Phil's working but I'm still trying to pay off a bunch of bills in Fort Worth with my money (thanks to Buddy!) so it's still kind of tight. As soon as I get those paid off, I'm going to get me a car. Phil's real funny about my money. Won't touch it but by this summer, we ought to be in pretty good shape.
When you write, give me Charlotte's phone number and address. I had it but lost it. And tell the fart to write me. It wouldn't kill her. She was supposed to talk to my lawyer for me and find out some stuff and let me know, but I never heard from her. Tell her it doesn't matter about that now. I talked to Buddy's mother and I can go one of these weekends and get my stuff. I'll let you know when. I think he's already gone out to get his. I hope I have something left. He started "getting his" for being blind this month and she said he bought him a car. Now what does a blind man need with a car? I smell something very fishy. I talked to those doctors myself so I know he was blind. But you can't tell about him. You just can't trust him about anything. But as soon as I can, I'll go get my stuff. Maybe he'll move from his mother's (that's one reason I'm in no hurry) and I won't have to see him. Oh, and tell Charlotte I closed out my bank account. And tell her she'd better write.
I wish I knew where David was. He'll be 21 on his birthday this month. I just hope he's okay.
I'm sorry your daddy's having so much trouble with Patty. But like I said, I'm really glad that you're with Charlene. I halfway raised her because she spent so much time with us when your dad and I got married. I think she was just seven when we married and she didn't get to go places very much so we'd go get her and let her stay with us. I think a lot of her although we haven't been around each other much since she got married and after your daddy and I divorced.
I'm glad you like the poem book. I've written a couple since I gave it to you that I'll send you to put in it.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. Be sweet and let me hear and be sure and send me Charlotte's phone number and address. Call her and tell her I said Hi. As soon as I can afford it, I'm going to get a phone. But I may wait until I move. It costs so much to move a phone.
P.S. What does W/B/S mean?
Love,
Mother & Phil
This letter is postmarked 3/21/79. David's birthday. He'll resurface in a year but for now he's living between Arizona and California. He likes the weather in both states since he never knows when he'll have to make a bed out of a park bench. His schizophrenia is still untreated.
The book of poems you referred to is a notebook you gave me for my twelfth birthday. You filled it with songs and poems you wrote and a few you didn't but that meant something to you. You wrote a personal note to me in the first few pages:
This isn't a very expensive gift but I hope that by giving you a copy of all the poems and songs I've written over the years that maybe I'm giving you a part of myself. They show a lot of my thoughts, joys and fears that I have found hard to express any other way. I hope that you'll read them and know that even though I've failed in may ways, hurt many people, it was only because I'm human, in spite of the fact that I do love the Lord and those close to me.
Teresa, never give up on yourself or give up on God. And I know in my heart that He'll never let you because He's never let me and I've had many a dark place that I don't believe you'll ever have to be in. As I've told you, before any of you were born I dedicated each of you to God and asked Him to keep His hand on you and help you. I believe with all my heart that he will, in spite of me or anyone else. Three different times over the years when I was worried about you kids, I prayed, and just opened my Bible, expecting to see a verse that would be my answer. Three times it opened to this verse in Isaiah 13, "All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children." That was no accident.
The last part of this book are some favorite poems of mine that I didn't write but that mean a lot to me. The first one I dedicate especially to you. Maybe this book won't mean much to you now, but I believe it will some day.
I love you very much.
Mother
I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
Roy Croft
Oh, and W/B/S means "Write Back Soon" and just so you know, I haven't given up on myself. I fired God instead. He never returned my calls.
Dear Teresa,
Got your letter today and thought I'd better get busy and answer it. We had to go buy groceries and get me a new pair of shoes. It rains so much here, the shoes I wear for every day get ruined in no time.
I'm real glad about you getting to work in the hospital as a candy striper. I loved working at the nursing home. But I sure got myself involved with them. Even when I was off work, I talked about them all the time. I think Jimmie even got jealous after a while! I just hope you can go on to be a nurse. It doesn't pay a whole lot of money (more if you go on to be a RN) but it's rewarding in a lot of other ways.
I'm studying to get my GED since I didn't get to finish high school, and when I get it I think I'll go to the VA (Veterans Administration) and see about going to school. You can take just about anything you want to and they pay you $260/month to go. I'm eligible for it because of being Jimmie's widow. As long as I don't remarry, I can go to the base and buy groceries, etc., and I have insurance that pays 75% of all my doctor, hospital and drug bills. Plus the $314 I get a month. So you can see why I don't want to get married. Anyway, I'll get my GED first, then after I see what courses I can take, I'll probably start school. May end up a real "brain child" at 39 years old! Ha, ha.
This summer we're planning on getting a bigger apartment. I sure hope Charlene will let you spend some time with me. Maybe we could take off and go down to Galveston. There are a lot of places to go around here and we could have a lot of fun.
Charlie seems (our dog) to be a lot better, so I don't know if that vet was lying just for the money or not. But I'm still going to take him to another vet and have him checked. Phil's working but I'm still trying to pay off a bunch of bills in Fort Worth with my money (thanks to Buddy!) so it's still kind of tight. As soon as I get those paid off, I'm going to get me a car. Phil's real funny about my money. Won't touch it but by this summer, we ought to be in pretty good shape.
When you write, give me Charlotte's phone number and address. I had it but lost it. And tell the fart to write me. It wouldn't kill her. She was supposed to talk to my lawyer for me and find out some stuff and let me know, but I never heard from her. Tell her it doesn't matter about that now. I talked to Buddy's mother and I can go one of these weekends and get my stuff. I'll let you know when. I think he's already gone out to get his. I hope I have something left. He started "getting his" for being blind this month and she said he bought him a car. Now what does a blind man need with a car? I smell something very fishy. I talked to those doctors myself so I know he was blind. But you can't tell about him. You just can't trust him about anything. But as soon as I can, I'll go get my stuff. Maybe he'll move from his mother's (that's one reason I'm in no hurry) and I won't have to see him. Oh, and tell Charlotte I closed out my bank account. And tell her she'd better write.
I wish I knew where David was. He'll be 21 on his birthday this month. I just hope he's okay.
I'm sorry your daddy's having so much trouble with Patty. But like I said, I'm really glad that you're with Charlene. I halfway raised her because she spent so much time with us when your dad and I got married. I think she was just seven when we married and she didn't get to go places very much so we'd go get her and let her stay with us. I think a lot of her although we haven't been around each other much since she got married and after your daddy and I divorced.
I'm glad you like the poem book. I've written a couple since I gave it to you that I'll send you to put in it.
Well honey, I guess this is all for now. Be sweet and let me hear and be sure and send me Charlotte's phone number and address. Call her and tell her I said Hi. As soon as I can afford it, I'm going to get a phone. But I may wait until I move. It costs so much to move a phone.
P.S. What does W/B/S mean?
Love,
Mother & Phil
This letter is postmarked 3/21/79. David's birthday. He'll resurface in a year but for now he's living between Arizona and California. He likes the weather in both states since he never knows when he'll have to make a bed out of a park bench. His schizophrenia is still untreated.
The book of poems you referred to is a notebook you gave me for my twelfth birthday. You filled it with songs and poems you wrote and a few you didn't but that meant something to you. You wrote a personal note to me in the first few pages:
This isn't a very expensive gift but I hope that by giving you a copy of all the poems and songs I've written over the years that maybe I'm giving you a part of myself. They show a lot of my thoughts, joys and fears that I have found hard to express any other way. I hope that you'll read them and know that even though I've failed in may ways, hurt many people, it was only because I'm human, in spite of the fact that I do love the Lord and those close to me.
Teresa, never give up on yourself or give up on God. And I know in my heart that He'll never let you because He's never let me and I've had many a dark place that I don't believe you'll ever have to be in. As I've told you, before any of you were born I dedicated each of you to God and asked Him to keep His hand on you and help you. I believe with all my heart that he will, in spite of me or anyone else. Three different times over the years when I was worried about you kids, I prayed, and just opened my Bible, expecting to see a verse that would be my answer. Three times it opened to this verse in Isaiah 13, "All thy children shall be taught of the Lord and great shall be the peace of thy children." That was no accident.
The last part of this book are some favorite poems of mine that I didn't write but that mean a lot to me. The first one I dedicate especially to you. Maybe this book won't mean much to you now, but I believe it will some day.
I love you very much.
Mother
I love you,
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand
into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.
I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple;
Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.
I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.
You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.
You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.
Roy Croft
Oh, and W/B/S means "Write Back Soon" and just so you know, I haven't given up on myself. I fired God instead. He never returned my calls.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Conversations With the Dead: February 26, 1979, Houston, Texas
Dear Teresa,
I guess you think I'm terrible for not writing, and I guess I am. So much has happened tho and I've had so much on my mind. Life seems to be full of surprises.
The reason we didn't come down as we'd planned that weekend is that Phil got hurt and he's been off work for several weeks. He's always trying to help someone, and always ends up getting hurt somehow. We have a friend that lives in these apartments named Doc and he's a pretty old man and in very bad health. Well, he had a son named Mike that was living with him and he was a real ding-a-ling (Reminded me a lot of Buddy. Poor old Doc was scared to death of him). Anyway, he'd just gotten out of jail and was driving poor doc up a wall, staying drunk and throwing fits. So Doc asked us if we'd invite him up to the apartment one night for a while, just so he could have some peace and quiet, just for a while. So we did, and after he was here for about an hour, he started acting real crazy, insulting me and everything. Just real nutty. So finally, Phil asked him to leave and he refused. Well, Phil went down and told Doc, and Doc said to please keep him up here long enough so he could get some clothes and go over to his sister's. He was really scared of him and now I understand why. Anyway, we did, and then Phil asked him to leave again and he still refused, so Phil literally threw him out. Then he started worrying about if Doc had been able to get away in time and went down to check. Well, Mike was down there busting windows and car windshields with a chair and then he jumped on Phil when he saw him. (You know me. I had followed Phil because I was worried). God it was awful! He was a crazy man! He finally got Phil down and then he started kicking him in the face and looked like he was trying to kill him. Of course I was screaming for him to stop and finally I yelled I was calling the police. So I ran in his (or Doc's) apartment and called them. I was so mad. And of course when I get that mad, I don't have sense enough to be afraid. He came in while I was calling and laid down on the couch, just like nothing had happened. I won't use all the words I said, but I said I was calling the police and using his phone to do it. I guess in a way I was daring him to touch me, which was really dumb but I was too mad to care, and I'd already decided to break a lamp over his head if he even moved. Anyway, he just said to go ahead and laid there. So when I got through, I came back to the apartment to see about Phil and wait for the police. We had him though, because he had started all this here, in Phil's apartment, and then to top it all off, he'd gotten smart with the cops (and Houston police are known for being mean anyway) and they drug him out of his apartment and took him to jail.
But God, you should have seen Phil. His eyes were black and his nose and jaw were broken from all that getting kicked in the face. He's gone through hell the last few weeks and couldn't even eat anything but liquids until here lately, so of course he hasn't been able to work. He's going back this week but of course the money situation money-wise isn't too good, so we're just going to have to wait until we get our bills caught up a little before we can come up to see you. And to top it all off, they messed up on my check and I've had the devil trying to get it.
So all in all, I hope you'll forgive me for waiting so long to write. I've been so durn [sic] worried and had so much on my mind that I couldn't even think straight enough to sit down and write a letter. But do you know what happened to Mike? Of course I feel sorry for Doc, but I can't honestly say I'm sorry it worked out like it did. I guess he just reminded me too much of Buddy and I'm really not over that yet. Anyway, Doc wanted Phil to press charges against Mike but being as soft-hearted as he is, he wouldn't do it. But he died in jail before he got out. They "said" he had a heart attack, but I don't believe it. Knowing how Houston police are, and his big mouth, my guess is that he opened his mouth once too often to either the police or some of the other prisoners. It happens all the time. Anyway, it's all over now but I sure was worried for a while.
Now on top of everything else, Charlie is (the dog) real sick. They say it's heart worms and he's going to have to go stay at the vet for several days and that's going to mean more money. And the treatment is real dangerous and there's still a chance he may not make it. That's all I need -- to loose [sic] Charlie. A mess, isn't it? But it could have been worse. A lot worse. But enough of that. Phil's okay now, and will get it all straightened out in time. Then we can come see you.
I felt so bad because we couldn't stay that weekend we were there. I kept remembering how pretty you were and how you had your suitcase packed and I know you were disappointed. I was too, believe me. But I'd explained to Charlotte that we couldn't spend the night and I thought she'd told Charlene. But next time we'll be able to stay. I want to be with you so much. It's been so long. It hurts so bad that I can't be with you like I want to, and share in your growing up. And I know this is a hard time for you. But I'm glad you're with Charlene and them. Charlene has more common sense than Patty does.
When I was there, you asked me what it was like when I was 14, and I've been thinking about that. That age seems to be pretty confusing for everyone. I went through it and I saw Charlotte and David go through it, and a lot of other kids. I remember when I was that age I felt like I was on a roller coaster most of the time. My emotions were all messed up because your body is changing and that physical upset just naturally messes up your emotions. But it's only natural, except I didn't know that at the time. I thought I was some kind of nut or something. The thing is, you're not really a child, and yet you're not really grown, either. One minute I'd feel so independent, and like I could lick the world, and felt grown, and the next minute I felt real insecure and self-conscious and wished I was a little kid again. The least little thing that anyone said or did could hurt my feelings and make me feel like a clumsy idiot! And not knowing what was causing it I figured I'd feel that way the rest of my life.
But I got it in my head that if I could just get away from Mother and Daddy and get married, it would all change. So at 15, that's what I did, but of course that really only made it worse because your daddy and I were so young, and we just didn't have enough experience at living and solving problems. And of course when Charlotte and David came along, it only complicated it more. Being an only child and not being around babies, I really had no idea what to do or how to do it. And that just made me feel more like an idiot. You see honey, there are no shortcuts in life because there is no way to learn anything except by experience. And that takes time. Had I finished school and dated more (so I could understand people better) I would have learned to cope with people and problems better. As it was, it was all so much for me to handle; I ran from it by taking pills and drinking. And starting so young to run from reality and hurt, it became a habit because I never learned how to cope with life.
Like I said, it takes time and experience to learn that and I didn't do that. So I had no tools to work with. And as time went on I really missed all the things I didn't get to do, like dating and going to dances, etc., but by that time I had two babies and was tied down all the time. That's why I'm so glad and proud of you for wanting to finish school and make something of yourself. I know that in the process you'll have time to build up your self-confidence and learn a little about life and people so you can handle it. Believe me, you have plenty of time.
Well, guess that's all I can think of right now. I hope I answered your question. When Phil and I come up there we'll have a chance to talk. I just want you to know honey that I am very proud of you. Just hang in there. Take care of yourself and write me, and I promise I won't wait so long to answer you. And don't forget to send me a picture of you when you get one. Tell Charlene and Pat "Hi" and tell Charlotte to write me. (Phil says "Hi").
Love, Mother
P.S. I'm real tickled about you wanting to be a nurse. That's what I always wanted too. Good luck!
Mom,
There are no intervening letters between Buddy and Phil so I must have heard of the switch by phone. It doesn't matter. You moved from a bully to a wussy. We all do that I guess, try to heal from an extreme by moving toward its opposite. A friend of mine called it "the matchbook theory", that when you're bent one way for too long, you have to bend in the extreme opposite direction to self-correct. But I think the binding on your "matchbook" weakened from overuse, became thinned and frayed until your constitution was no more.
You and Phil will last nine months. He'll start drinking again and so will you. Shopping for men at AA doesn't seem to work out well but this lesson you'll never learn. Knowing what will happen, I'll watch your next ten letters for signs that you're drinking again. I don't know why. You're dead. What difference does it make? I guess I need to feel in control because I felt duped every time you fell down and disappointed me. I'd trust you and you'd fall. You would stop writing and I would fear you were dead. I guess now that I'm in control of the situation, your words in my hands, I can manipulate the information. I know, it's dumb, but it's a way of interacting with you without feeling vulnerable again. Funny thing is, I feel vulnerable anyway.
Today was the perfect day to read the words, "Just hang in there." I'm afraid and in pain because one of my children is hurting and his future is uncertain. Feelings of helplessness make me small again. No matter how old I am, I will always yearn for that mother figure when I'm most afraid, for the bliss of unconditional love despite how unpredictable it could be, how short-lived it was. Some would even call your love counterfeit.
I have learned about life and people just as you said I would, but what I've learned is that they are one inseparable variable. We can count on only what we can control which is what? I think knowing yourself is more important, building up your own reserves. Even you, my mother, my safe port, weren't safe enough. But your words are safe now in my hands and they cannot die. I can milk them for all the comfort I need today. I can even believe that you're here in this room, reading over my shoulder, telling me everything will be okay, that I can "handle it". What other option is there? I believe that because you taught me well by example what weakness is, I am strong.
The last sentence in your opening paragraph makes me smile: "Life seems to be full of surprises." Yes Mother, it does.
I guess you think I'm terrible for not writing, and I guess I am. So much has happened tho and I've had so much on my mind. Life seems to be full of surprises.
The reason we didn't come down as we'd planned that weekend is that Phil got hurt and he's been off work for several weeks. He's always trying to help someone, and always ends up getting hurt somehow. We have a friend that lives in these apartments named Doc and he's a pretty old man and in very bad health. Well, he had a son named Mike that was living with him and he was a real ding-a-ling (Reminded me a lot of Buddy. Poor old Doc was scared to death of him). Anyway, he'd just gotten out of jail and was driving poor doc up a wall, staying drunk and throwing fits. So Doc asked us if we'd invite him up to the apartment one night for a while, just so he could have some peace and quiet, just for a while. So we did, and after he was here for about an hour, he started acting real crazy, insulting me and everything. Just real nutty. So finally, Phil asked him to leave and he refused. Well, Phil went down and told Doc, and Doc said to please keep him up here long enough so he could get some clothes and go over to his sister's. He was really scared of him and now I understand why. Anyway, we did, and then Phil asked him to leave again and he still refused, so Phil literally threw him out. Then he started worrying about if Doc had been able to get away in time and went down to check. Well, Mike was down there busting windows and car windshields with a chair and then he jumped on Phil when he saw him. (You know me. I had followed Phil because I was worried). God it was awful! He was a crazy man! He finally got Phil down and then he started kicking him in the face and looked like he was trying to kill him. Of course I was screaming for him to stop and finally I yelled I was calling the police. So I ran in his (or Doc's) apartment and called them. I was so mad. And of course when I get that mad, I don't have sense enough to be afraid. He came in while I was calling and laid down on the couch, just like nothing had happened. I won't use all the words I said, but I said I was calling the police and using his phone to do it. I guess in a way I was daring him to touch me, which was really dumb but I was too mad to care, and I'd already decided to break a lamp over his head if he even moved. Anyway, he just said to go ahead and laid there. So when I got through, I came back to the apartment to see about Phil and wait for the police. We had him though, because he had started all this here, in Phil's apartment, and then to top it all off, he'd gotten smart with the cops (and Houston police are known for being mean anyway) and they drug him out of his apartment and took him to jail.
But God, you should have seen Phil. His eyes were black and his nose and jaw were broken from all that getting kicked in the face. He's gone through hell the last few weeks and couldn't even eat anything but liquids until here lately, so of course he hasn't been able to work. He's going back this week but of course the money situation money-wise isn't too good, so we're just going to have to wait until we get our bills caught up a little before we can come up to see you. And to top it all off, they messed up on my check and I've had the devil trying to get it.
So all in all, I hope you'll forgive me for waiting so long to write. I've been so durn [sic] worried and had so much on my mind that I couldn't even think straight enough to sit down and write a letter. But do you know what happened to Mike? Of course I feel sorry for Doc, but I can't honestly say I'm sorry it worked out like it did. I guess he just reminded me too much of Buddy and I'm really not over that yet. Anyway, Doc wanted Phil to press charges against Mike but being as soft-hearted as he is, he wouldn't do it. But he died in jail before he got out. They "said" he had a heart attack, but I don't believe it. Knowing how Houston police are, and his big mouth, my guess is that he opened his mouth once too often to either the police or some of the other prisoners. It happens all the time. Anyway, it's all over now but I sure was worried for a while.
Now on top of everything else, Charlie is (the dog) real sick. They say it's heart worms and he's going to have to go stay at the vet for several days and that's going to mean more money. And the treatment is real dangerous and there's still a chance he may not make it. That's all I need -- to loose [sic] Charlie. A mess, isn't it? But it could have been worse. A lot worse. But enough of that. Phil's okay now, and will get it all straightened out in time. Then we can come see you.
I felt so bad because we couldn't stay that weekend we were there. I kept remembering how pretty you were and how you had your suitcase packed and I know you were disappointed. I was too, believe me. But I'd explained to Charlotte that we couldn't spend the night and I thought she'd told Charlene. But next time we'll be able to stay. I want to be with you so much. It's been so long. It hurts so bad that I can't be with you like I want to, and share in your growing up. And I know this is a hard time for you. But I'm glad you're with Charlene and them. Charlene has more common sense than Patty does.
When I was there, you asked me what it was like when I was 14, and I've been thinking about that. That age seems to be pretty confusing for everyone. I went through it and I saw Charlotte and David go through it, and a lot of other kids. I remember when I was that age I felt like I was on a roller coaster most of the time. My emotions were all messed up because your body is changing and that physical upset just naturally messes up your emotions. But it's only natural, except I didn't know that at the time. I thought I was some kind of nut or something. The thing is, you're not really a child, and yet you're not really grown, either. One minute I'd feel so independent, and like I could lick the world, and felt grown, and the next minute I felt real insecure and self-conscious and wished I was a little kid again. The least little thing that anyone said or did could hurt my feelings and make me feel like a clumsy idiot! And not knowing what was causing it I figured I'd feel that way the rest of my life.
But I got it in my head that if I could just get away from Mother and Daddy and get married, it would all change. So at 15, that's what I did, but of course that really only made it worse because your daddy and I were so young, and we just didn't have enough experience at living and solving problems. And of course when Charlotte and David came along, it only complicated it more. Being an only child and not being around babies, I really had no idea what to do or how to do it. And that just made me feel more like an idiot. You see honey, there are no shortcuts in life because there is no way to learn anything except by experience. And that takes time. Had I finished school and dated more (so I could understand people better) I would have learned to cope with people and problems better. As it was, it was all so much for me to handle; I ran from it by taking pills and drinking. And starting so young to run from reality and hurt, it became a habit because I never learned how to cope with life.
Like I said, it takes time and experience to learn that and I didn't do that. So I had no tools to work with. And as time went on I really missed all the things I didn't get to do, like dating and going to dances, etc., but by that time I had two babies and was tied down all the time. That's why I'm so glad and proud of you for wanting to finish school and make something of yourself. I know that in the process you'll have time to build up your self-confidence and learn a little about life and people so you can handle it. Believe me, you have plenty of time.
Well, guess that's all I can think of right now. I hope I answered your question. When Phil and I come up there we'll have a chance to talk. I just want you to know honey that I am very proud of you. Just hang in there. Take care of yourself and write me, and I promise I won't wait so long to answer you. And don't forget to send me a picture of you when you get one. Tell Charlene and Pat "Hi" and tell Charlotte to write me. (Phil says "Hi").
Love, Mother
P.S. I'm real tickled about you wanting to be a nurse. That's what I always wanted too. Good luck!
Mom,
There are no intervening letters between Buddy and Phil so I must have heard of the switch by phone. It doesn't matter. You moved from a bully to a wussy. We all do that I guess, try to heal from an extreme by moving toward its opposite. A friend of mine called it "the matchbook theory", that when you're bent one way for too long, you have to bend in the extreme opposite direction to self-correct. But I think the binding on your "matchbook" weakened from overuse, became thinned and frayed until your constitution was no more.
You and Phil will last nine months. He'll start drinking again and so will you. Shopping for men at AA doesn't seem to work out well but this lesson you'll never learn. Knowing what will happen, I'll watch your next ten letters for signs that you're drinking again. I don't know why. You're dead. What difference does it make? I guess I need to feel in control because I felt duped every time you fell down and disappointed me. I'd trust you and you'd fall. You would stop writing and I would fear you were dead. I guess now that I'm in control of the situation, your words in my hands, I can manipulate the information. I know, it's dumb, but it's a way of interacting with you without feeling vulnerable again. Funny thing is, I feel vulnerable anyway.
Today was the perfect day to read the words, "Just hang in there." I'm afraid and in pain because one of my children is hurting and his future is uncertain. Feelings of helplessness make me small again. No matter how old I am, I will always yearn for that mother figure when I'm most afraid, for the bliss of unconditional love despite how unpredictable it could be, how short-lived it was. Some would even call your love counterfeit.
I have learned about life and people just as you said I would, but what I've learned is that they are one inseparable variable. We can count on only what we can control which is what? I think knowing yourself is more important, building up your own reserves. Even you, my mother, my safe port, weren't safe enough. But your words are safe now in my hands and they cannot die. I can milk them for all the comfort I need today. I can even believe that you're here in this room, reading over my shoulder, telling me everything will be okay, that I can "handle it". What other option is there? I believe that because you taught me well by example what weakness is, I am strong.
The last sentence in your opening paragraph makes me smile: "Life seems to be full of surprises." Yes Mother, it does.
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