And Then We Were Six

1966 was, in today’s terms, a breakout year of firsts for me. First college, first girlfriend, first wife, first time father to be, first time living apart from family; all under blue skies with only a great future to look forward to, my life was good. By October, “Cherish” by The Association, seemed a reasonable word.

For me, each day was full, work, school, work, home, sleep, basketball (somewhere anywhere), work and always something going on for me, not always the case for my wife, who kept the home (apartment) fires burning. Money was tight, but we managed, gas was still cheap in those days and I’d catch a bite at the Diner (Where I was a part time dishwasher), in Avon, or at school and Jackie, my wife, always prepared something great for those times I’d be home for a while, like Sunday’s. No church for us, we never talked about it, but she had rarely gone as a child and I was, as you may know, a Roman/Irish Catholic. Having been an altar boy, I, of course, knew all I had to know and my church seemed so redundant. (Not so today) It was, after all, the 60’s and our feelings and belief systems were undergoing some world altering changes. Now, I see myself then as arrogant and presumptuous; but as a 19 years old husband and soon to be father, I believed I was on a track leading to teaching and a future quite different than the one that, today, has me sitting in front of my laptop, enjoying summer living with my sister, here in Thomaston, Maine, it’s 55 years later.

In 1967 as the Turtles sang “Happy Together”, we were welcoming our first child on the 21st of March. (Exactly 20 years and 17 days after me) Our son, she had predicted, arrived and we named him, as she predicted, David Xavier Sheehan III, the first gem of 4.

A year in the future, on February 24, 1968 (Exactly 20 years and 17 days after Jackie) our daughter, Kathleen, was born, the second gem of four. Kathy’s birth introduced us to (Rh) babies and the host of problems that can occur when a blood type positive+ father marries a blood type negative- mother. Since those days, science and researchers developed a way to interrupt and all but stop the problem, which happened when some blood of the first born, remains in the mother after birth. Her body manufactures antibodies to combat the foreign blood. The antibodies become a huge problem in subsequent pregnancies, as we were to find out, and would greatly affect the health of both the fetus and the mother.

I remember judging the time between David and Kathleen’s births, that not only did we produce Irish twins perfectly, but plans for higher education would have to be put on hold and I needed steadier work. I tried a few things, and ended up working at Tarpy’s Beef on Montello Street in Brockton, Massachusetts. Initially, I unloaded beef trucks, and selected orders for delivery, then put them on a truck and then got into that truck and delivered the products throughout the South Shore. Tarpy’s was a beef and pork provision company, with the home office in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, I believe. It was hard work, but boy did I get “Popeye” arms from lifting forequarters and hindquarters of hanging beef every day.

We kept moving on, and with two babies we learned how to bring up kids on a daily basis, which stretched what we had learned as built in babysitters, just a few years before, in our own homes. These days preceded Pampers by several years, I can still strongly recall the overpowering aroma an uncovered diaper pail could cause, it brings tears to my eyes to think about it LOL. In 1969, Jackie began the “Pill”, at everyone’s request, and we were fetus free for just about a year; a time well remembered for how it affected her, not in a good way. There were giant mood swings, and I/we didn’t know if it was a result of taking this pill or an indication that she was resisting everyone’s contention that this was what was best for her, I’ve always believed it was the latter.

It became academic as soon as she ceased taking the pill, and we announced in October of 1969, that sometime in May of 1970 we would have our 3rd child, Jennifer. (The 3rd gem of 4). We were happy, but our families were less than thrilled, we kept hearing well intentioned phrases for us to halt our propagating. By now, I had moved on from Tarpy’s and started a full time Teamster Union job, moving furniture and driving Allied Van Lines rigs for Kemp Transportation, in my home town of West Bridgewater, Massachusetts. The money was good, and the work, though hard and sometimes filthy, satisfied me. I got to work with my father-in-law and shop steward, James L. Finch, from whom I learned a lot, in this new profession. James, nicknamed Pops, helped me to become a packer. This was a necessary job for the moving of any big household and with Tom Kemp’s perceptions of packing and how it paid for itself and most of the folks involved in the actual move. The cost for packing a dish pack carton (about 6.1 cubic feet) was $25.00, and I predicated each assignment with however many of those babies I could crank out in one day. It was lot, and I averaged 20–25 per job, plus all the other cartons which had their own cost. Pop said, pack them heavy and pack them fast and I got really good at it, and after a while, Tom sent me on jobs by myself, so he could utilize more guys at other jobs. A typical day, then, was to take a Ford Econoline to a job already packed and inventory everything while the customers waited for the actual truck to show up and start loading; that being done, I’d leave and begin a new packing job somewhere else, and Tom came to trust my estimates of time and what needed to be done and would often shuffle me, as an example, from Hyannis to Manchester, New Hampshire (huge overtime) to assist a big move and to call him with a report on what the heck was going on, as to him (usually justified), the guys were taking too long. My reports would always include what the holdup was, but often times, Tom would be right and they would be performing coitus with the duck. (Things would have been so different, if we had had cell phones in those days.)

On the home front, Jackie and I also did what we did best, and we announced that we would have a 4th child, on September 22, 1971, a son, Michael (The 4th and last gem of our family). History of my kind is stored in the heart and though, at times, it seems like only yesterday, I know it’s never simple; what I do know is, that Jackie and I, with God’s help and blessing, brought four uniquely diverse beautiful children into this world, a world that continues to spin even with bumps along the way. They will, as we all do, make mistakes and take paths that we might not, but it’s their journey and I think they should make their own way in their own time.

I think mama and papa would be proud of me, for never being a sheep or being that boy who jumped off the bridge just because everyone else did. Life is good, and I do thank God for letting me do, what I love doing, to write; to Him be the glory, and if it’s His will, I begin another subject tomorrow. just sayin’, don’t be sad, be happy..love to all..later..

It's 2021 now, and as I read this Facebook blog of mine from 2013, that last line sounds like one of those people who can’t stop talking, when they should be leaving the stage. I do love writing, this piece will be part of that autobiography, that sits in pieces on a saved Word worksheet.