Savor the Memoies

Memoir

Savor the Memories

 

October 1985, I was seventeen and in love.  My parents had decided to move from the town we called home to Priest Lake Idaho.  Home had been Susanville California for ten years of my life.  All of my friends were there, the ones from elementary school up to High School.  Priest Lake is a place way, way, way out in the sticks of Northern Idaho. I mean only fifty miles at best from Canada at best.  My mom’s friend said there were jobs to be had at the forest service there.  My mom had been volunteering at the local BLM office in Susanville for about a year with no luck of being hired on permanently.  I couldn’t understand then why she would want to take me out of school to move to a place where a job wasn’t really promised, but now that I’m and adult I do.  I begged and pleaded for them not to take me away from my friends.  I was in the last year of high school.  The big issue however was that I was in love and didn’t want to leave my boyfriend.  I didn’t say that of course.  My cousin who is twice my age told my parents it would be alright with her if I stayed with them and finished high school.  My parents conceded, and left me behind in Susanville to graduate.

After a month at my cousins I had gotten a job at the new Burger King in town.  It was great having money in my pocket.  My parents had not sent any type of support money so I literally had nothing.  Soon my grades began to fail.  I came home from work one night and my cousin’s husband told me “you are going to quit or move out.”  I said “no I’m not!” as I ran up the stairs.  The next day I went and talked to one of my mom’s friends.  I told her that my cousins husband wouldn’t allow me to work.  Since she was already living in town it would be great if I could stay with her so I could just walk to work.  My parents and my cousin who was probably glad to get rid of me said it was ok.  Barbara worked all the time so it was easy for me to not to come home.  After work I would go to my boyfriend Ricky’s instead.   Little did I know she was checking to make sure I was actually home.  It wasn’t long and she was telling me the same thing as my cousin’s husband.  I thought to myself, “I have my money from Burger King; I’ll just find a place for me and Ricky.”  Ricky worked with me so we actually would have had two incomes.  We were sure we had enough money.  As we walked the streets of Susanville though, we realized that nobody would rent to 17 year olds. 

A few weeks went by and on a scheduled day I went to work.  As I was putting a burger together I heard my name and turned around.  The boss was telling me “Gina, the police are here to speak with you.”  I thought, “What would they want me for?”  Someone had turned me in as a runaway and they had to take me in.  I spent one week in a foster home till I could be shipped to Priest Lake.

I was so scared in that foster home.  I was amongst a family I didn’t even know.  They were a nice family.  Nothing like the horror stories you hear about now where they beat the children that come into their homes or don’t feed them.  We went horseback riding, and did a lot of chores.  When the end of the week came and I was supposed to leave I needed to throw away evidence.  I didn’t know where to put it.  I had a bunch of contraceptives I didn’t want my parents to see.  I threw it away in their trash can.  I know they had to have seen it but nobody said anything.  Now that I think about it, if they were foster parents I was probably not the first one who did this sort of thing.

It was a nineteen hour ride from Susanville to Priest River on Greyhound.  The scariest ride I have ever taken in my whole life.  You have to change buses and have layovers in all the biggest cities along the way.  The stations are generally in the drug and prostitution districts.  I would just get off the bus pick a seat in the station and stay put until they called over the microphone for the next bus.  Even then I would try to get the seat behind the bus driver for safety.  Even that didn’t always work.  A man got on one of the buses with me and sat down behind the bus driver as I had.  He said “how’s it going Gina?”  “What?”  “He knew my name?”  We rode down Interstate 5 for a great distance and he asked the bus driver to let him off.  In the middle of nowhere!  How creepy is that?  I still don’t know what to think of it.  There were times though that I had to pee so badly, I would hold it because I didn’t want to walk to the back of the dark bus to go.  The bus stations charged you a quarter to open the door to go.  I had no money.  At times I would crawl under the door just to get to the toilet for free.  Thank goodness I was little.  Finally I reached Priest River where my father picked me up.  “Great!”  I thought to myself.  “He’s going to kill me.”  My father with the bad temper, the boozehound of the town, came to pick me up and kill me.  We rode in silence for fifty miles.  Further and further into the forest.  When we finally reached our home in Priest Lake I was exhausted.

I was allowed to just sleep for a few days although my parents thought I was on drugs because I slept so much.  It couldn’t have possible been because of that stressful awful trip, leaving my boyfriend, or being in a foster home for a week.  When I woke I asked my mom if she could possibly take me to the doctor since I hadn’t peed in ages and felt as if I had a urinary tract infection.  She said we would go when we signed me up the next day for school.

We went to the doctor as promised.  I indeed had a urinary tract infection, but also strep throat and…pregnant.  My mom said nothing, we went to the school as planned to sign me up.  Once I got home though, it was a whole different story.  She sent me upstairs, next thing I know I hear dad yelling “Gina get down here!”  I have never been so scared.  He grabbed my arm and threw me down on the chair.  “You are a disgrace!”   “Now you are pregnant by a dirty Mexican!” “You will not be keeping this child.”  All I could do was sit there and cry in fear.  In fear of my father, in fear of what was going to happen to me and what was going to happen to the baby.

When people would knock or come over to the house I was demanded into the basement.  Nobody was to see me.  Not even family.  I could hear people’s conversations from down there.  It was so creepy.  They didn’t even bother to put something comfortable down there for me.  There were spiders all over the place, in every corner of the room.  Dirt streamed down the basement walls as remnants of the last storm that water and mud had flowed down cement.  The ceiling was just two by fours with what seemed to be plywood.  It was always cold, damp, and dark.  There was just one lamp for light to read by.  Every time I was down there waiting for company to leave, I couldn’t help think “is what I did so horrible that I deserve this?”

The months progressed, my belly swelled.  I went to one of my ultrasound appointments and to the amazement of everyone one baby turned into two, twins one boy one girl.  This infuriated my parents even further.  In April I was made to break up with my boyfriend by phone.  Not only did I have to break up with him but I was forbidden to tell him we were having babies.  I wanted to shout it out!  I love you and I love our babies.  Instead, my parents stood over me while I was on the phone telling him I never wanted to see him again.  Crying, I went up to my bedroom for the night.  I knew in my heart he would move on.  Move on without me even though I still loved him and wanted to be a family.

I graduated in June.  Big ol’ fat belly in front of me, people staring like “what is she doing here?”  “S****y little girl.”  Maybe they weren’t thinking that but I felt like they were.  I started a job at the forest service.  I was just putting in timber sales into the computer.  It was sit down easy work for a pregnant girl.  I made friends.  One lady referred to my big belly and motherhood.  I told her I was putting the babies up for adoption.  Of course I never revealed why.  Come to find out her and her husband had been trying to have a baby for years.  However; she only wanted one.  I agreed to give her the baby girl. I felt sad about it, but I knew that baby would be safe and loved by her.   I knew her and could trust she would be good with my baby.  Plus, I’d be able to see her once in a while. 

Twelve am July third.   I was awoken by a warm dream.  “Wait, what?” Did I wet my bed?  “Oh ouch!”  Cramps like you wouldn’t believe.  “I’m in labor; this is what they said it would be like in all those books I’ve been reading.”  I slowly got up when I could stand, walked slowly down the stairs, woke my mom, I’m in labor.  “Go take a shower and I’ll get dressed to take you to the hospital.”  It was so hard to stand in the shower while the contractions were coming.  I was also shaking with fear.  If it hurt this much now, what is it going to feel like later? 

Owie, owie, owie push!  Grrrrr!  “This hurts! And I have to do it twice in one day?”  “Uggghhhh!”  Owie, owie, owie push!  “I see the head” says the Doctor.  “One more push and the first one is here.”  Push! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 “wait, stop pushing, and out Rose came.  She was covered in slime, they suctioned her mouth and she began to cry.  I wanted to hold her but I knew I had more work to do.  It wasn’t 5 minutes and I felt the pains again.  “Here we go again” says the Doctor.  Push 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 breathe.  One more time and I think we’ve got it.  Push 1, 2, 3, 4 stop pushing.  Out came Ryan.  Whew!  What a relief.   They handed those beautiful babies to me.  I had one in each arm.  They were so cuddly and smelled so new.  How could I possibly give these gifts from God away?  If I didn’t though, I wasn’t allowed to go home.  I’d be out on the street with two infants, no money and no family. 

Barbara and John came to the hospital the next day to collect Rose.  I had named her, but they had decided on their own name.  Brittany Denise would be her new name.  However in tribute to me they used all the names on the birth certificate.  Ryan still had no home.  I had not gone to an adoption agency, but a cousin of mine agreed to take him for a while till I could get a job and a place of my own.

After the babies were born and this big fiasco of giving them away when I really wanted them, and living with my parents who made me hide in the basement, I decided to join the Air Force and make a life for myself. This pregnancy was a defining moment in my life.  It made me a mother for the first time, it made me grow up fast, and most of all a responsible person.  I was now responsible for another person.  I decided to join the Air Force.  Basic training was six weeks and tech school was nine.  After that I would be free to either live on base or get a place elsewhere close to the base.  My cousin agreed to keep Ryan till I could finish and get settled. 

It was a long six weeks of basic training and nine long weeks of tech school, but I did it. I had become a jet engine mechanic.  I was able to find off base housing and get Ryan back. I knew I was never going to treat my children the way my parents treated me, but now began the search for the baby’s father.  This was not the time of internet so finding someone was a lot harder than it is in this day and age.  I knew where his father lived but that was the last place I was going to go.  He was a mean b*****d.  He abused drugs and would beat Ricky.  There was no way I was going to have that happen.  When he found out it was going to be in person.  The years came and went no luck of finding him.  I would tell Ryan about his father.  The things we used to do.  What a wonderful person he was.  How he was the one I wanted to be with for all time.  I made sure he knew about him. 

I soon married another had more children and Ryan was accepted as one of his children.  Jim, and boy I dated briefly in high school had grown into a wonderful man.  We had reconnected on a page called Classmates.com.  He taught the boys all they know about repairing cars, hunting, chasing women respectably.  When the internet was developed and in everyone’s home I searched again with no luck.  Sometimes though I think it was for the best.  Finding another man while married is a dangerous game.  I realized that it was only right that Ryan and his father knew each other, but not to the expense of the marriage.  This man to whom I am married has done everything to make the kids family.  If Ryan met his dad would it break it up our perfect family?

One day while I was looking through friends of friends, I noticed a kid with the same last name as my son.  I didn’t friend him but I did write him a note.  I said “I knew a guy who looked a lot like you in Susanville, would you happen to know him?”  No reply.  Then with a little more searching I found the wife of Ricky’s brother.  I did the same thing.  I sent her a note wondering if she knew his whereabouts.  No response.  This was obviously not working.  Again, I wondered if it was the right thing to do.  Should keep trying to find him?

My husband got a good position in Sandpoint Idaho.  We moved there after being in Reno for two years.  We lived right next to the Lighthouse dressing factory; sometimes you could smell the succulent sweetness of barbeque sauce wafting through the window.  I had soon found a position at the local airplane factory doing their accounts receivable and payroll.  Everything was going the way it should.  All of the kids had grown up and moved out.  It was just Jim and I.  A weight was lifted off our shoulders as we could look back and see how well we did raising our children.

Facebook was the new and improved MySpace.  I signed up for one of those and soon had all my family and old high school buddies on there.  It was a great place to catch up with all that had happened in people’s lives.  I had even downloaded the app for facebook so I could see the happenings while I was out and about.  One day while out on an excursion, a friend request popped up.  My heart leaped out of my chest when I saw who it was.  Ryan’s father!  I fought with the thought of accepting him.  It feels like its too late now.  However; against my better judgment, I accepted.  I didn’t say anything to him at first.  I just let him sit there as one of my friends.  Then finally one day I sat down and wrote him.  I just asked how he was doing and what he had been up to.  I just wanted a feel for who he was now.  I knew he had battled with drugs and I just needed to know he was coherent. The days went by with no answer.  I thought “what the heck?  Why did he friend me with nothing to say?”  So, I left it alone for another month.

With all the friends I had one facebook, there was one which whom I would talk to frequently.  I told her about Ricky friending me but then saying nothing.  She says “oh, I’m related to him, do you want his number?”  I took the number down and held it for a few days.  Finally, I got the nerve to text the number.  When he found out it was me, he was really happy to hear from me.  We would talk for hours about where our lives had taken us and where we were going.  After a month of talking I felt like it was time for him to know about the babies.  He was driving after work; I asked him can you pull over for a minute so we can talk?  When he was stopped, I said “you have a daughter.”   I didn’t tell him about Ryan.  After I told Ryan I had found him and talked to him, he wanted to remain anonymous until he got to check things out and want to be known.  Ryan by this time had a father and a family he loved.  He wasn’t sure he wanted change.  Ricky was silent for a moment.  All he could say was “ok”, “ok.”  He needed to hang up.  When I talked to him again he said he had called his brother and told him about Rose.  He was weeping and saying “I knew there was something missing in my life, now I know what it is.”   

We had decided we were going to meet for dinner.  I thought that would probably be good since he so forcefully wanted to meet Rose.  When I stepped out of the car I could not believe what I was seeing.  He looked like an old man.  He was not the once handsome stud I remembered.  I had to keep my thoughts in check as I know it’s been 25 years.  His hair had become completely grey, he had lost all his teeth from doing too many drugs, his face pitted out from the drugs and he was too skinny, like a slimy snake.  In my mind I was so happy to not have married him.  I had the perfect man right now.  You could barely make out what he said during dinner because the false teeth he had in his mouth were too big.  After some conversation I soon found out he pretty much lived off his brother and had no money of his own, nor did he try to make any of his own.  He had a fifth wheel trailer he lived in behind his brothers house, which was hooked up to his brothers electric and he would go in to his brothers’ house to shower or do laundry.  He had become a bum and a leach.  He is in and out of mental institutions because of what the drugs have done to his brain.

I went back and told Ryan and Rose of the meeting and how it went.  I gave them both the choice of meeting him and the family but told them of what he had become.  Rose agreed and wanted to meet him. She had known me all her life since I stayed in touch with her adoptive parents.  She had expressed the interest in knowing who her father really was back when she was a teen.  I didn’t feel it was my place to tell her about him like I did with Ryan.   Ryan did a little more investigating and then said it was alright to tell him he existed too.  Ricky was excited but a little mad that I had not told him of both.  I told him Ryan was 25 and if he didn’t want to be known it was not my call to make.  Rose went to meet Ricky and the family.  She came back unimpressed.  She spent a few more times with him and his family where they got a little closer,   she said she felt like he was someone she could really talk to.  She grew to love him even though he had his faults, but left us after committing suicide.  She had text Ricky about personal problem she was having, he chose to ignore her.  She said in her note that he was the only one who would have understood but he didn’t answer and she felt like he didn’t care after all. In my mind he didn’t even try to save her. He let our baby girl die.  He let her down and he let me down.   Ryan still has not met the family; he decided after that incident that it wasn’t worth it.  He is in Germany working for Boeing.  He keeps in touch with Ricky’s brother who is a very good man.  Ricky however, will not even acknowledge Ryan unless Ryan sends him money, or brings him any type of attention with the family.

So, I’ve went from being in love, to getting into trouble, going through a pregnancy virtually alone, looking for a man who I thought was worthy for what?  I have learned a big lesson from all this.  I guess sometimes it takes a while to figure it all out but what I’ve learned from is you can romanticize about the past as much as you like, but you should always keep it in the past.  If I would have kept going and ignored my curiosity and guilt, Ricky would still be that good looking, sweet, hardworking man I once knew.  He would be that perfect father I thought he was going to be.  But, because I didn’t and kept perusing this subject, I now know he is not a good father, not a good person, not anything worth having in my own life or my son’s life.  We don’t have anything to do with him anymore.  It’s really sad, but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing I did right by telling him of the kids.  I’ve lost a daughter and a good memory, but I’m just glad it’s over.