Chapter 2

We lived in a small neighborhood, the kind of neighborhood where everyone knew everyone and everyone knew everyone’s business. It was different then than it is now. Knowing everyone’s business then was knowing where they worked, who were their parents, cousins, or knowing if they went to church on Sunday. Today, knowing everyone’s business is so different.
We wondered the neighborhood every day. Mom did not worry about someone kidnapping us, or who we were hanging around with. (Remember, everyone knew everyone.) I had so many friends there. We went from one house to another house to play. Kim, Amanda, Sharann, Bobby, Larry, Chris, Rodney, Amy…just to name a few, were some of the residents/friends, sometimes enemies. We rode bicycles miles and miles over the years just in that small neighborhood. I also walked many miles barefooted around the neighborhood. (Once summer hit we threw the shoes away .)
In the evenings, my mom would open the door and yell our names, as would other moms, and we would run home as fast as we could. Funny how no matter where we were we could hear the yell of our names. After we ran home, it was time to wash up for dinner. Dinner was every night at the same time. We had a variety of food each night, but always, always had to have creamed potatoes. Every single night, per my father. And can biscuits, every single night.
We had a kitchen table, but we always ate at our bar that sat four people. The kitchen table was only for Christmas or something like that. We never hosted company, except on Friday nights, when a couple from our church would come over to watch Dallas.
My bedroom was so pretty. When you walked in the door, to the left was my white dresser, on the opposite wall was my white bed, with a patchwork bedspread. I had shelves too, for my dolls. My carpet was light green. My closet was perfect, as was every single corner of my room. Of course it was, my father would not have allowed anything other.
I insisted on the hall light being on every night. This was an inconvenience for my father, as he made a mad dash to the bathroom for his nightly shower. If I were awake, he would stop just before my door and tell me to cover my eyes, as he ran past my door in his whitey tightys.
Bedtime was the same time every night, wake up was the same every morning. I had maple and brown sugar oatmeal every morning. My dad had two fried eggs, bacon and can biscuits, every morning. Dad mowed on Mondays and Wednesdays every week during the summer. We actually had to plan our vacations around his mowing schedule. (Which is why we only did weekend trips.) Do you see a pattern here? Day in and day out, we had a serious routine. But, it was all we as kids knew. HOWEVER, it was not what my mother grew up with, making her life miserable. Should she stray from the routine, hell was to be paid.
We never went out of the house in the evenings other than the occasional treat. My mom was pretty much forbidden to leave at night, as it was not safe for women to be out after dark. Or so my dad said. My mother sought out her GED or high school diploma several times. My dad always made her quit, or made it so hard for her that she gave up and quit. Mom felt that my dad did not want her to better herself, possibly being better than he was. Both my mom and my dad quit high school at a very young age. They were married two weeks after my mom’s 16th birthday. I just cannot imagine!! My brother was born when mom was 18, and I came along when she was 21. Too young to be married, too young for children.
Mom and Dad did the best they knew how. I thought we lived a normal life.
Which is why when my mom sat us down to tell us that we were leaving, I was devastated. It seems that every night after I went to bed, there were huge arguments. I was 6,so once I was asleep, I was asleep. My brother, however, was 9 and he heard everything. Apparently Mom saw that he was starting to be affected by their problems and decided it was time to go. I was heartbroken. Completely heartbroken. We stayed with every one of my mom’s sisters. We went from house to house. This must have gone on for months. Finally my mom found us a house to rent. I hated the house. I hated that my dad did not live there. I worried everyday about who was taking care of him. I worried about the house work, the cooking, and the loneliness. I loved my daddy like every little girl loves their daddy. He was my hero