Providence 1973 Chapter 1

GRADUATION!

Yay God!

And sadly, I must say, that this wasn't being said reverently.  

I was 18 and just graduated from high school. 

For most this is an amazing time! 

For me I couldn’t wait to move out of my parent’s home and out from under their thumbs.  My mother was a bit of a tyrant, who really liked things her way.  And it really didn’t matter whether she was right or wrong, it was only her opinion that counted.

Daddy was great, except he didn’t stand up to mother.  Sadly this was not an uncommon phenomenon back in the 70’s, when there was a second marriage and children involved.

There were times, I wondered what life might have been like had I lived in a normal family…you know, with one mother, one father, one sibling, and maybe a cat and dog thrown in for good measure.

Hmm…didn’t happen!

I had one mother, two fathers, and one sister to start with, and an afghan hound for a dog and then another afghan hound added to the first…do you have any idea, how much effort is required to have a handsome afghan hound, let alone two afghan hounds?  These two dogs where an extremely cruel joke to lay on any child or children, as was the case in our home.

Well I will back up a tiny bit…

My mother first married a career army man, and I frankly think that there was some of the same kind of thinking going on in her head as I had going on in mine when I graduated from high school.  Funny how I just this moment realized this piece of information.

Mother and dad married and shortly thereafter my sister was born.  21 Months later I was born.  When my sister and I were about five and three, we moved to Germany, Munich to be precise.

I can remember there were some interesting times, my father was an alcoholic.  Not unusual back then when you were in the service.

But apparently he took his last drink the day I was born.  And I think this may have been difficult for my mother, when Daddy was drinking she could control him in some ways, that she wasn’t able to when he was sober.  I know that sounds a bit off but, if that were not the case then why did she divorce him after he became and stayed sober?

Mother was the control addict, not daddy.  Mother was the one who decided my sister and I would answer, “Yes Sir, No Sir, Yes Mam, and No Mam.”  To our parents to start, and later to whomever we had contact.

Oh and we had a nanny, a governess, if you would, and someone who was from Germany and who spoke only broken English I believe, to start.  Elsa, someone from my childhood whom I would love to know if she is still alive.  I would love to reconnect with her, perhaps fill in some of the gaps.

Elsa took my sister on many, many, adventures!  We went to the Black Forest and saw where there were huge holes in the ground from the bombs during WWII.  She also hitch hiked, yes with the thumb out, with my sister and I to the October Fest.  She was definitely a very bright spot in our days as children growing up.

And then the sadness of moving back to the United States, my sister and mother and I living with my grandfather, who was an active alcoholic and not very nice when he was drinking, which was most of the time.  And were was daddy?  He was in Indiana.  At the big army base in Indianapolis, IN.

After mother had met a man whom my sister and I thought we had arranged for the meeting, which we really hadn’t, but we didn’t find this out till years later. 

Life did settle down a bit and my sister and I were enjoying life a bit….however we wanted to visit daddy.

And in 1963, daddy had a brief encounter with a fine women, and was then sent to Alaska, more in later chapters, maybe... Mother wouldn’t let us go to Alaska.  But when daddy came back to Indiana we were able to finally go for a visit.

                                                             

I can remember this so clearly.   
We  were able to go and see our grandparents, and great grandma Miller, who was quite old and still living by herself.  What a wonderful visit.  We also where introduced to our stepmother and I believe she was pregnant with a son, our half-brother, when we were finally allowed to go and visit our dad.When we got home we were introduced to Pun-ke that was his short name, and you really don’t need to know the long name…way to long.  This was our first Afghan. 

This dog certainly added a whole new dimension to our lives...this picture isn't of our Pun-ke, but he certainly looked a lot just like him.

My mother was able to get a really good price on him because his very first show, he lifted his leg on the judge.  This was a puppy class, but it still ended his showing days...So Pun-Ke ended up becoming a pet.  Now just try to imagine what a dog like this would need when he was walked in the rain, or better yet in the snow!  This was not a kid friendly dog, at least as far as his care was concerned.  Folks, never ever do this to a child or children, it really isn't a fair thing to do.

A few years go by and bring on Farrah...(this is not actually her, but it could have been...)

                                        She was a lovely apricot afghan who loved to play.  She had been abused, so once again my mother got a deal. Pun-Ke and Farrah played and played and now my sister and I had twice the amount of work....

Time went on, and my sister graduated from high school and went on to nursing school, two more years, I had a little job, I had a bike to get around on and a car at my disposal on occasion.  Was I happy?

No! I was probably pretty miserable as well as miserable to be around.

I had my baby-sitting, and some freedom when I was baby-sitting....

One of the family's I sat for had a friend that wasn't really to much older than I, or so I thought....10 years when you are 17 isn't that big a difference, at least that is what I thought and no-one could tell me any different!

Are you wondering where this is going to go....guess you will have to come back and see!