Turning Lemons into Lemonade

She never married again. He was the love of her life and that is how it was going to be. "How sad", I thought, but there was no changing her mind.

When I was 13, I found out why my parents divorced. My dad had an affair. Not an "affair", per se, but a one night stand. He threw away a beautiful family, a beautiful wife and a beautiful home for a one night fling. I often wanted to ask him if it was worth it. My mom found out because she had gone in his wallet one night to get change for the soda machine at work and found a motel receipt. This confirmed her worst fears. She confronted him and he initially denied it. Then he said, "But it was only one night". One night that ruined our lives.

Mom was born to a family including her mother, stepfather and two brothers. My grandmother, having been raised by men herself, had no use for females. She didn't know what to do with them. She would have my mother go outside and pick a branch off the tree each day to be the one to whip her with. She used my mother as a slave. She took care of the chickens, cows, goats and other animals on the farm before she would go to school each morning. She would come home and do housework and cook. Then it was back to bed and the same old routine would start again.

When she was older, her stepfather and stepuncle began sexually abusing her. She never told anyone, until she told me one night when we were talking. She even feared that one of them might be my brother's father. I confirmed this was not the case since he was the only one in our family who was tall and everyone else, even the aforementioned wicked steps, were short. She left home when she was 18, not before she had become pregnant and spent time in an unwed mother's home where my brother was born.

She married the first guy that came along. She didn't love him. He didn't love her. He needed a wife. She needed a husband. They lived together separately for a few years. His brother started to come and visit. She became friends with him and that friendship grew into love. This was my father. She divorced her first husband and moved in with my dad. She had my older sister, me and my little sister all within three years. When I asked why we were so close in age, she said it was because Dad was in the Army for three years and each time he came home she got pregnant. After my little sister was born, my grandfather asked my mother why they didn't make it legal and finally get married. They did - on June 7, 1970.

We had a happy family life until 1976 when he had his affair. After that, we were raised by a single mother. Dad barely had time or money for us and rarely spent time with us. Mom scraped to make ends meet. She got on State aid to help with food and anything else they would give her. She attempted suicide as she couldn't stand living life like she was. But at some point, she gave in and decided to work at the local shipyard which built submarines for the Navy. She went back to school to be a pipefitter. Because she was small, she could fit into the small hatches that most men couldn't. She loved that job. She took classes at night to learn the trade. She was proud that she could make a living and get off State aid. She worked there for 17 years, through strikes and everything else that came with working at a union run shipyard. She even got hurt but went right back to work - in the pipefitter's office - where she finished her 17 years as a clerk.

When I decided to go to college, she took another job to help pay for that. She would come home after working 7 to 3 at the shipyard, change her clothes and go to work at Howard Johnson's as a waitress. She did this for 3 years. Around the time she turned 53, her work history would come to an end. She was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis which slowly crippled her.

Her later years were bittersweet. They were filled with grandchildren, who she had switched to third shift for so she could watch them during the day. She later retired. She moved from each of my sister's home to my home and back so we could take care of her when she needed 24 hour care. She helped us all around the house and with our kids. She loved doing it, but physically it was killing her.

Around 2011, she started getting sick on a regular basis. She was always in and out of the hospital. One near miss after another, we felt we were losing her. She nearly died so many times, but always rallied. Her last illness was around Thanksgiving 2015. She was in a nursing home as we could no longer take care of her. The nurses found her unresponsive and she was brought to the hospital. She was diagnosed with sepsis. She was in ICU for 3 days and came back after the 3rd day so they moved her to a regular room.

That night, she called me to come in by myself and asked me not to tell anyone. She told me that she was going to die in the hospital. I told her she was doing great and being moved to a regular room and I asked her what she was talking about. She said, "No, I know I'm not going to make it out of here and that's okay". She began talking to me about her arrangements, what she wanted and what she didn't. Five days later, she was put on a respirator against my wishes and eight days after that, she died.

I always said that Mom was the wind beneath my wings. She truly was. She was the one who kept me going. She was my inspiration. She never let things get to her and always got up when she fell. She always had a way of turning lemons into lemonade. I don't know how she did it.