Ties That Bind Page 4

  * * *

  I spent hours writing to various agencies in search of any details regarding my birth or adoption. It was a slow, painstaking process, but information began filtering in

  I was also able to locate some census reports, and they gave me the most clues. I found dates that I could work with, and those allowed me to find entries that listed my mother, Irma as a child. It was another path to search. That date would have put her around sixteen to eighteen years old. It showed the address as a convent in Sioux City. That piqued my interest.

  I vaguely remembered hearing that she wanted to be a nun and that she married Daddy instead. I also recalled pictures of crosses, churches, and bibles placed on shelves, which seemed hypocritical to the non-Christian way she treated my daddy and me.

  I didn’t believe for a second that she was ever a nun, or that she even joined the convent to be one. I thought all along it was just a ruse to cover up her un-Christian ways, and better yet, give her an alibi for her whereabouts during the early years. Everything was a mystery with that woman. How the heck did she ever get her claws into Daddy? I wondered about that more than anything else.

  * * *

  I recall the day I told the kids I was adopted. It wasn’t planned, it just presented itself. Carole and I had had a particularly stressful day.

  It was like any other morning, with the kids getting ready for school. Carole was taking too long like any typical teenager. Looking back, I wondered if she actually was taking too long, or I was just impatient. I called up to her from downstairs telling her she needed to get a move on. I had prepared breakfast, and it was getting cold. She didn’t respond to my yelling, so I tried once again. Still, there was no response. I stormed up the stairs to find her mimicking me in her mirror, and the anger overcame me. I don’t even remember doing it. I reached out and slapped her across the face. She turned to me, touching the red, warm spot from my slap.

  “I hate you. You’re crazy.” Carole yelled as she ran down the stairs.

  “Don’t forget your lunch,” I called out as if nothing had happened.

  I stood in the doorway of her room for a moment, my breathing labored, and my heart beating a mile a minute. What had I just done?

  All of a sudden a distant memory came flooding into my mind. My own mother had done similar things to me when I was much younger than Carole.

  When the kids came home from school, they walked into a house filled with the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies just out of the oven. This is how I would ask for forgiveness. I guess it worked. No one made mention of my hysterical outburst or unacceptable behavior regarding this instance, or any other.

  Later that evening, over a dinner of favorites, Charles and I told the kids about me. Peter was not particularly moved by the discussion. But Carole and Charlie were all ears, especially Carole.

  “That’s kind of cool, Mom. You may have brothers and sisters you didn’t even know about,” Carole boasted.

  “I don’t know about that, Carole. I do have a sister. Her name is Teresa,” I said not wanting to share that part.

  “Aunt Teresa,” Carole remarked.

  I nodded. “Listen. It’s not going to be anything glorious here. We’re not going to reunite with lost family, and pick up where we left off,” I explained.

  “Mom, you don’t know how it will turn out. It’s been so long,” Carole said.

  “I can tell you there is no love lost here, guys. That’s the truth. I’m just telling you about my adoption and my life before California, in case anything comes up about it,” I said matter-of-factly.

  I also told them the story of dropping out of school and enrolling in secretarial school. I was nervous about their reaction, but the reality was, I was the one who’d help the kids with most of their homework; especially Spelling, and English. Charles would assist them with their Math. He was good with numbers.

  I was self-taught in many areas, which made the fact I only had an eighth-grade education easier to hide. I loved to read, and I tried to learn as much as I could on many subjects. Charles never thought any less of me for not having a high school education. Even so, I knew it was the one thing my children would get. I’d see to it.

  The children just stared at me. Charlie Jr. took it all in I suppose, Carole was trying to make sense of it all, and Peter...well, Peter couldn’t have cared less. He was too young. His concentration was on baseball and football.

  As Carole became a young woman, she and I would have deep discussions about it. She never held it over my head; she’d just say every now and then, “Secrets aren’t good. It’s not a healthy way to develop and foster relationships.” I could hear the sincerity in her voice. I vowed to her, no more secrets.

  I felt such a big relief—a weight had been lifted. Now I could begin to heal. Now that I’d included the kids, they were a little more curious and occasionally would ask me what I’d found out if they saw me looking over documents I’d received in the mail. I created a binder to keep everything organized. Carole helped me by putting them in a protective sleeve, and as she placed them in the binder, she would read aloud what they said.

  “Mom, why does it say Irma was an inmate at the convent?”

  “I believe that’s the terminology they used back then when an orphan lived there. I’m not sure, though. I guess it’s one of the mysteries, huh?” I said, loving that she was interested in my journey.

  Chapter Six

  Shortly after this revelatory meeting, Charles said to me in his always calming voice, “Pat . . . Carole came to me. She’s worried about you.” I lowered my head in shame.

  “I didn’t mean to slap her. It just happened,” I said in between sobs.

  “I know you’d never hurt any of the kids,” he said hugging me softly.

  “I think it’s time you talked to someone. I don’t care who, but a professional,” he said with a little more tone than he would typically use with me.

  I realized he was right. I loved my family so much. I had to break this ugly chain of lashing out for no apparent reason. I needed professional help. I couldn’t let my adoption, or the hatred I felt for the only mother I’d ever known ruin my relationship with my children or my husband.

  I began seeing a psychiatrist. We’d meet once a week and just talk. Over time, she was instrumental in helping me let go of the hatred. She reminded me that many people suffered worse situations than I had. She also reminded me that we are all in control of our destiny and that we can’t hold others responsible for the outcome. She was right. It was what Charles and I had taught our children.

  “I understand what you’re saying. I believe it to be true,” I concluded to the doctor during one of our visits.

  “Believing is half the battle,” she said calmly.

  “How do I keep the bad thoughts from creeping back in?” I asked.

  “That’s the hard part, Pat. Not everyone is happy every second of the day. We have periods of sadness, and even to some extent, depression. You can’t let it rule your life. You have a lot to be thankful for.”

  “Oh yes, I sure do,” I said smiling thinking of my little family.

  “What you must do, if you can, is put it behind you. This doesn’t mean you forget. It’s part of who you are. You shouldn’t dismiss that. However, you’ve heard the saying, when you are given nothing but lemons, make lemonade,” I nodded I had.

  After a number of sessions, I was feeling much more positively about my situation and felt that it was time to address the issue head on.

  “I’ve been thinking about revisiting Sioux City,” I said.

  Nodding her head she replied, “That might be helpful.”

  “I haven’t mentioned anything to Charles about it. It would be after the kids are older. It’s just a thought I had. Maybe if I could get some answers, I could finally put it to rest.”

  “I think it’s an idea worth visiting. You and Charles can make that decision.”

  I was content with our meetings, and Charles said he s
aw a lighter side of me. He thought it was working.

  * * *

  Our family was like most others. We had trials and tribulations, fears, and anger. We tried hard to move past all the things life threw at us, and for the most part, I’d say we were successful. Eventually, all the kids graduated from high school. Charlie went on to college. Peter went to trade school to learn computers, and Carole became a housewife and mother.

  In time, the kids were all married and settled down. Charlie had our first grandchild, a son, who we adored. Peter came next with a granddaughter, and Carole had twins. We were so blessed with all the grandchildren.

  We had family dinners, and every birthday and holiday we were together at one of the houses. Charlie had the larger home of the kids, but Carole had the loveliest backyard. We enjoyed barbecues over there. Her flowerbeds were always full of vibrant colors, and in the summertime, her vegetable garden was overflowing with crops.

  “You sure have a green thumb,” I’d say to her.

  “Got it from Daddy,” she responded.

  As a parent, the most joy comes from your children when they’re happy and healthy. Charles and I were ecstatic.

  * * *

  It was during one of our family gatherings at Carole’s that she dropped a bombshell on us. Her husband joined the military. They were young and struggling financially, so the service was probably a good choice. But now I was going to worry about her being alone raising twins while he went off to basic training.

  “It’ll only be for six weeks, and then we’ll be joining him,” she said matter-of-factly.

  And so began our next trial as a family. Carole would be leaving our town, and our close-knit group. We vowed to not let the distance keep us apart, but over time, with age and health issues, traveling to see her and her family became more and more challenging.

  * * *

  One evening, after a pleasant time at Peter’s, I brought up my idea of taking a road trip.

  “I really miss Carole,” I said.

  Charles nodded.

  “Maybe we could take a trip.” I blurted.

  Charles cocked his head toward me, giving me his full attention.

  I rattled off the details I had in my mind. “We could take a road trip, visit the kids, and maybe end up in Iowa.”

  Charles took me into his arms and stared into my eyes. He knew me so well. “A road trip sounds nice,” he said rocking me back and forth.

  A tear formed in my bottom eyelid. I loved that he knew me so well. I could never keep any secrets from him. “I just thought maybe we could visit some places on our bucket list.”

  He furrowed his brow, “My bucket list or yours?”

  I gently kissed him on the cheek and pulled away from the embrace. “Mine.”

  He took a few steps toward me. I could feel him at my back. He nuzzled into my neck and whispered in my ear.

  “Let’s take a trip out to Iowa,” he said as nonchalantly as if he’d just asked me to go to the movies or the store. “We can also stop and visit Carole and her family along the way,” Charles added.

  Hearing that idea perked me up. It had been a couple of years since we had seen them. I knew that Carole’s twins were in middle school by now, and I was anxious to visit them.

  I called the kids and told them of our news. They were all excited about our trip. They knew it had been a while since the two of us had taken a vacation. I sugarcoated the reason for the journey; I didn’t want them contacting me every day with, “Did you find out anything?”

  I merely mentioned that we’d be stopping in Iowa as well. Of course, Carole picked up on that right away—almost as quickly as her father.

  “You know, Mom...” she started.

  “I know, dear. I plan on turning over some stones while we’re there. I certainly don’t have any high expectations. Whatever happens is meant to be,” I said.

  “Yep, I totally get it. Just go there, do some digging, and see what it brings up. BUT,” she hollered. “You better tell me as soon as you know something interesting,” she said laughing in the receiver.

  I let her know of our itinerary and when she could expect us to roll into her neck of the woods. She was happy we were stopping by. I wouldn’t miss stopping in and seeing her for anything. We talked on the phone weekly, but it wasn’t the same. I missed not having her close by, but I was old school, and I believed your place was with your husband.

  Charles and I closed up the business and the house. We didn’t know how long we’d be gone. The kids would check in on things, but for the most part, we were going to be gone indefinitely. I knew with Charles by my side we’d uncover as much as possible. I grew excited about the possibilities. I also knew that not all the news would be good, and I expected that. I was ready. I was ready for whatever. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  During our last night at the house, the reality of what we were about to do set in. I was feeling a bit agitated and snapped at Charles.

  “Maybe we’re making a big mistake. It’s not too late. Let’s just stop this crazy idea.”

  Charles rarely got angry, but the look on his face told me maybe I was about to witness a first time.

  He grabbed my arm, not hurting me, but getting my attention. “Where is this coming from,” he said with raised voice.

  I started crying. I was an emotional mess. Maybe I didn’t want to know the truth. “I may be in for news I don’t even want to know,” I said in between sobs.

  He pulled me close. “I’m going to be with you all the way. If it ever gets to be too much, and you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

  I hugged him tightly. Charles was my rock.

  Chapter Seven

  Our first stop: Las Vegas with all of its flashing neon lights.

  I remembered being there before as a child. I recalled the hours I sat in the backseat playing with my doll while my parents were in the casino playing cards. I removed the unpleasant thought from my brain and focused on all the beautiful lights and buildings instead.

  Charles found a hotel on the outskirts of town, and we called it an evening. The next day would be long, but we both were excited to see what the Great Salt Lake looked like. But first, a quick stop at the Grand Canyon that was breathtaking and worth every fleeting minute. Then we were on our way to see Carole and the family in Idaho.

  * * *

  As I knew she’d do, Carole rolled out the red carpet for us. We loved catching up with her and the family. Carole and I got caught up. I missed having her around to talk with.

  Spending time with them was what I’d been missing though I never tried to show it. Although her husband was away serving our great country, she was a wonderful wife and mother.

  After an all too short three-day visit, it was time to hit the road again.

  “Now you two be careful,” she called out to us as we drove away.

  I smiled and nodded, waving to them until I couldn’t see them anymore.

  Smiling ear to ear, Charles said, “I enjoyed our visit. And the kids are so well behaved,” he went on.

  I reached up and wiped the one lonely tear that made its way from my lower lid to my cheek.

  “Yes, I did too” was all I could manage to say.

  The only way to stop feeling sad about leaving Carole was to concentrate on our next stop—Yellowstone National Park.

  * * *

  I’d read numerous articles about Yellowstone. I was excited about seeing it, and deep down inside I hoped we would see some bears and other wild animals.

  It was eerily quiet in the cabin that night. Occasionally, Spunky would walk over to the door and sniff under it as if he could smell other animals. My vivid imagination almost got the best of me as I imagined bears, buffalo, and other wild animal’s right outside our cabin door.

  I finally drifted off to sleep where my dreams were more about what I was going to find when we arrived in Iowa than wild animals outside our cabin door.

  As we drove along the winding roads that would
lead us to the iconic spot of Old Faithful, I was amazed by all the unspoiled land and the beautiful floribunda that draped the dramatic landscape. The area looked like a beautiful painting or photograph. No wonder Wyoming cherished this park. It was spectacular.

  After a good night sleep, we were on our way to the next stop; the Black Hills of South Dakota. I assumed my role as the co-pilot and tried not to dwell on leaving Carole and the family.

  To say Mount Rushmore is awesome or breathtaking is an understatement. It was even more gigantic than I thought it would be, and the image of its grandeur left an impression on me that I still hold to this day.

  That night I tried to sleep but couldn’t, I could hear the soft snores from both the dog and Charles. I chuckled to myself thinking how silly they sounded, at the same time wishing I too could fall asleep. Before long my eyelids became heavy, and I drifted off to sleep. I don’t know what time it was, but before I knew it, I was being awoken by Charles letting me know we needed to hit the road.

  “Hey, sleepyhead it’s time to get up,” he said lightly tapping me on the shoulder.

  I stretched my arms wide and let out a moan letting him know I didn’t get enough sleep.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Time to get a move on. We have a long day ahead of us. I’d like to make Iowa before dark,” he added as he gathered our things into piles near the door.

  “Ok, just give me a few minutes,” I pleaded.

  He reached down and gave me a peck on the cheek. Every morning for the past thirty years or more, he’d given me a kiss and told me he loved me. “I’m going to take Spunky for a walk. It’ll give you time to get ready.”

  I nodded my head and moaned a bit more as I stumbled into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and saw bloodshot and puffy eyes; a sign I didn’t sleep well. I splashed cold water on my face, grabbed a washcloth, and used it as a compress trying to get the swelling down. After a few moments, I finished up in the bathroom and got dressed. I was ready to go when the two of them returned from their walk.

  “I’m hungry. I need coffee too,” I appealed.