Sunday, August 28, 2011

(Fifth posting, continued story, "Releasing the Butterflies," 8/28/2011. Scroll down and click on the original post with Adam's photo to view and read the story.)


Chapter Nine

During Anne’s childhood must have been her mother’s unhappiest! As Anne’s friend, I would like to share with you what Anne would never reveal about her childhood or parents. It was an unfortunate beginning into a life filled with unfortunate circumstances.

Anne’s parents married very young, and her mother always appeared to resent the marriage. She had been engaged to marry someone else, but her mother wanted her to marry a young man who had repeatedly begged her, and who lived in the neighborhood. (He was her grandmother’s favorite choice for a husband for her daughter) Anne’s grandmother told her daughter if she married anyone other than this young man, she could never again return home.

In her daughter’s quest for some kind of happiness in her life…..ended her engagement, and married Anne’s dad. In the 27 years of their marriage, Anne didn’t think they ever experienced the first day of happiness. When her mother would become so tired from having to work, combined with being beaten by her dad…..she must have felt so alone, scared, filled with resentment and anger. As I look back on their lives, it is a wonder they even had time for one another.

There were those frequent daily times her mother would become agitated, and Anne never knew what she had done. “She would grab me by the arm, and put me in the closet under the steps. I would sit on an old brown trunk (which was the lone item stored in the closet) listening to her scream/rant/rave for me to stay there. When I’d cry and beg, Please mommy, let me out…..I promise I’ll be a good girl. It would fall on a dead unanswered silence.”

You know, some years later after Anne married she said they drove past that old house where this had occurred. There was a “For Sale” sign in the yard. She asked her husband to please stop. They approached the front door, tried knocking…..but no one answered. She turned the knob, and the door was unlocked. They entered the vacant/unfurnished
house. The first room Anne wanted to see was the room with the closet under the steps. She ducked her head, entered the small closet, and turned to ask her husband to take her picture. He asked why in the world she would want a picture of such an unpleasant experience? She answered, “I want to exorcise my closet, and all the bad memories it holds.”

Anne said there were numerous other incidents! When her daddy would beat her mother in the middle of the night…..her mother would gather her and her sister, Sheryl up with a few belongings.

They would walk several dark (no street lights) frightening miles in the middle of the night to the grandparent’s home. There, they would sleep on the floor of the three room cottage.

The grandparents had to give up their nice home when the grandfather’s eyes worsened with cataracts. (In those days, there was no corrective eye surgery.) He had been a carpenter of fine furniture, and could only find work as a caretaker of a cemetery. The job included the cottage with no running water, electricity or bathroom facilities.

Anne said as a child growing up; it was a frightening experience. She told me it was especially embarrassing as a teen never being able to bring the few friends she allowed herself to her home for a visit. When she entered the house each day after school….she never knew what she might find/what might have taken place. It caused her to become sort of a loner. She said it was easier not having friends then, she never had to explain the environment or her family.

There was a wealthy family down the street from Anne. They had a beautiful home with a swimming pool, pool table in the basement, and all kinds of things to keep a child busy.

Their mother didn’t have to work, and the father was a dentist. Also, he had turned one of the very large rooms in the older home into a rehearsal space for an orchestra. He was a bit eccentric, and thought himself to be an orchestra leader.

Their daughter and Anne became friends in junior high school where they each played violins in the school’s orchestra. They invited Anne into this home-styled orchestra, and were occasionally invited to perform for the children’s orphanage in their city.

Anne told me that later she realized the important role this family played in her life. They would take her everywhere they went. She recounted one of her fondest memories of the first time she saw their beautiful second home located on the James River. The home dated to
the Civil War era, and upon entering the double front doors, you could look upstairs and see the surrounding hallway on each of the four sides.

After moving to Bedford, my friend lost touch with this family. It was many years later, she saw her childhood friend, and was able to thank her for including her in their outings. Her parents realizing (perhaps hearing) her personal need, and void in her life which they could fill.

There were other times, maybe a friend would invite Anne to the movies. She would begin getting ready early in the morning after finishing her chores. The usual shower and shampoo, pin curling her hair, washing her clothes to wear, hanging them on the clothes line to dry, and then ironing what she planned to wear that day. All dressed and ready to leave….she would reach for the door knob. Invariably, her mother would say, “Where do you think you’re going?” Anne would stay home again. After this continued treatment, she said she remembered thinking…..why get excited about an event or planned trip….it’s not going to happen anyway. Anne’s unhappiness and discomfort seemed to bring her mother great pleasure and enjoyment.

In her teen years, her dad’s beatings to her mother were transferred to Anne by her mother. They lasted until Anne’s marriage to her late husband, Jim. Anne mentioned how her mother would throw her on the bed, straddle her and beat…..beat….. beat until her frustrations had cleared.

Once, it became so bad that Anne attempted to run away to the home of her dad’s parents. They lived at the beach some two hours away. Anne’s friend and the friend’s mother pooled their money for her train ticket.

When Anne arrived at the train station…..she phoned her friend. The friend said your mother phoned looking for you. She said you had better return home or she is phoning the police.

As a child, Anne said it was very confusing, and she didn’t understand at all! She would watch her mother (who was a professional seamstress) sew into the night making her little smocked dresses, beautiful coats with matching hats and purses. As a teen, her mother always kept her wallet filled for her needs at school, but there never seemed to be any affection and was void of any love.

As an adult, Anne rationalized that in her mother’s unhappiness with her unwanted marriage partner, with the two partners making one another miserable in retaliation…..she felt she was the trigger to release some of her hostility and frustrations.

(While at the beach cottage Anne thinks.....my goodness, the storm was horrendous, but with a much needed rain. I have written in my journal and reflected on my childhood much too long tonight. Like the rain that cleanses the earth…..so, my soul has been purged clean.)

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