The Kathy Story

My part of her story

What was I thinking? Now that I look back, I can understand the lives of my children and their attitudes toward me a lot more.

So where was the beginning? When the children were little, we had a lot of fun. There was always something fun to do. Each one of them had a very different personality that made them unique.

Kathy was very outgoing until 2nd grade, then she did a real flip. She became a very shy person and went into her "littles" phase. Everything she did was little. To a degree she has extricated herself from her body so that what she saw wasn't what you and I would see. If she were drawing a picture of me sitting in this chair; I would be two circles, one inside the other inside a square. The smaller of the two circles would have lines on it denoting hair and you might see a triangle on one side of the circle that would be my nose. The perspective would be as one would see me while sitting on the ceiling of the room.

Her teacher complained because all 25 math problems would be done on the upper left quarter of a page of paper, all done in miniature.

Her little brothers didn't help. They would run into her room anytime they wanted to so a hook was finally put on her door.

I got involved with 4-H at this time to be a part of her world. I taught the knitting and crocheting group. There were about 8 girls in the class. We started out with crocheting and did that for the first semester. The second semester we learned to knit. Kathy has a problem shifting from one thing to another and when it came to knitting, she decided that she had learned to use one needle and wasn't about to learn how to use two. So for the girls that didn't want to learn knitting, I had some more advanced crocheting projects for them. Kathy made a crocheted blanket/throw in rainbow colors.

The move to Wisconsin was hardest on her but luck was with her. Her cousin Jeff had a group of friends, both male and female that hung around together and they welcomed her into their group. To make this even smoother for her, after we got to know the kids in the group I gave an all-night New Years Eve party at our cottage at the lake. The party was a great success, we ate, danced, told stories in front of the fire. If someone was getting sleepy, we made them run around the outside of the house once in the snow.

The summer after that move, we moved again. I bought a house in town so that I wouldn't have to do so much running. The kids could walk to school. They could walk to the library or uptown. They had a freedom that I thought was necessary.

Kathy got sick during this time. I took her to the doctor, as any parent would, and the doctor told us that she needed a shot to correct this. Before the change (2nd grade) she was the big kid and took all the shots that were required for her. I would take them to the clinic on vaccination day and they would all get their boosters, but after 2nd grade, she no longer wanted anything to do with this. Even going to the dentist was a choir. Our dentist said that he wouldn't work on her unless I could calm her down. I would talk to her about her choices, and then I would stay in the room while he fixed a tooth.

Back at the doctor's office in her teen years, it took two nurses and a doctor to hold her down to get the shot. While I was making arrangements to get her medicine, she left. I couldn't find her in the snow for two days and she was running a fever.

Much later when we talked about this, she told me that it is very primitive to give people shots to get them well. I didn't know that then but I do agree with her now on this point. Were they smarter than me even then?

Three months before graduation, Kathy didn't want to get out of bed in the morning. I asked if she was sick and she told me that she wasn't going to school. We talked about the fact that I had to go to work and it was her job to go to school. She told me that she wasn't going to graduated because she was flunking all of her classes. We talked and I agreed that if she would go to school, after work I would see if we could find a tutor to bring her up to speed so that she could graduate, but that she had to go to school. She left for school that morning and wasn't happy about it but she didn't come home that night.

At first I called her friends to ask if they had seen her. I spent a hard night driving around looking for her. Then I made a call that I didn't want to make. I called California to talk to her father. He basically told me that again anything that happens is my fault. Not needing that, I continued to call people. Where could she have gone? Finally I was told that she was living with one of her friend's at their house. At least I knew that she was safe, so left her alone. I supposed that was another of my mistakes as a mother. I should have marched over there and demanded this person who was larger than I was to come home and behave like a real person, but I didn't have anyone to back me up. The boys were smaller than I was.

I didn't get invited to her graduation and yes, she did graduate. When I should have been having family over for her graduation, I was invited to her cousin's party.

When I think back, maybe we always had a push/pull relationship. I remember once when the boys were doing a lot of stuff, she walked out and I got a call from the police department. I went down to pick her up, they said she was just out walking after curfew. We sat in the police department and talked about who was the mother and who should discipline the boys.

After graduation she went to live with an aunt of mine. The aunt helped her get a job at the bakery of a grocery store.

Later she wanted to go see her father. From the time she was born, she would dance rings around her father. She loved him so much. I think the feeling was mutual because before the divorce he told me that if I would find homes for the boys, he thought we could have a wonderful family with just the three of us.

Before she went out to see him she was very nervous. She and I did some role playing and then she left. I heard from her a couple of time while she was out there. Mostly how she was always getting blamed for this or that and how he wouldn't help her get a job etc. Finally I sent her some money and told her that it was her umbrella when she was ready to come home. A friend of her Dad's helped her get a ticket and she had found a kitten that she wanted to bring back so he helped her get everything ready to leave. According to Kathy, her Stepmother was nicer to her than her Dad was. A few years later she divorced her Dad.

She came home and I helped her find an apartment in Appleton. Then she got a job there and seemed the happiest that I had seen her in a long time. She met a guy that she was interested in and told me that she wanted to get married.

Again she wasn't happy with all of this because between his mother and myself, we wanted a church wedding. She insisted that it only be for the family. We agreed. His mother was so upset about all of this, none of her friends and neighbors was allowed at the wedding. So I hosted a party after church at a local restaurant. When she walked in she was angry. The party had about 20 guests but that was 20 more than Kathy wanted. I felt that the party was for everyone else and maybe Kathy would get over it.

Kathy doesn't get over things well. Maybe she has a good reason. Her husband was picked up the year after her wedding for murder and Kathy went into hiding. Of course when they couldn't find her, they came after me. I was the only one who knew where she was. Life was hard then. The police were here every day but at least she didn't have to go through this.

After 5 years she was able to pull herself out from behind the looking glass. She told me that she felt like she was Alice and knew that everyone was out there but couldn't contact anyone. She got her divorce and tried to move ahead with her life. She moved to Green Bay and got a job in a Cheese factory. One of the things that she enjoys the most is live performances, plays and such. So she would dress up and go to plays where she would meet new people. (She was a very pretty girl) The thing that bothered her the most was that whenever she would be talking to a nice man and he would ask what she does, she could see the clouds cover his eyes and he would walk away.

Two years ago I was tending my dying sister and we ended up in Depere. I was staying with Kathy and driving over to be with my sister 12 hours a day. I don't have it straight in my head yet because Kathy would come over after work sometimes and sit with us, but I think the night that I didn't expect my sister to make it through the night, I should have found a way to tell Kathy and have her to do an all nighter with us but I didn't. Vern had brought my other sister up after sending her a ticket to fly back to Wisconsin. I think my daughter felt that I left her out and looking back I guess I did, but at the time I'm not sure I was really working everything out logically, it was like I was on automatic. After Donna died at 4:00 in the morning, I still didn't tell her. Instead Betty and I drove back to Milwaukee and went to bed. I didn't call her the next day because she would have been at work. Well, I guess I made a lot of mistakes that week because at the funeral, Kathy wouldn't talk to me. The fact is that it is two and a half years later and she still isn't talking to me.

Last spring I went by her house after sending her some pearls that I bought for her in Hawaii, only to find that she had moved in the winter. The packages didn't come back so I guess her forwarding was still working. Perhaps she has divorced me now too?

I really love that lady and sure wish that she were in my life but I am also glad that she is able to stand on her own and be independent, her own person. As a mother, I sure made a lot of mistakes but even as I write this, I'm not sure how I would have changed any of it. Perhaps someday Kathy and I can be friends again?

Things in our lives

Gertie came to work today. I sometimes can't believe her energy. She does such a good job that when she is done, the whole place just shines.

That isn't what today was all about. Today was about memories. One must be getting old if life is a series of memories. Today was that kind of a day.

Each piece of furniture evoked a different time or person. Putting oil on an old water closet reminded me of when this same piece of furniture was being used by my great Uncle Louie. It sat in his room. I don't know where it came from before that but my Mother gave it to me when I moved back to Wisconsin. It had drawer fronts that were cracked and the wood hadn't been taken care of like it should. (I have a great fondness of real wood, with its warmth and depth.) So the first thing that I did was to take a broken drawer to a hardware store to see what would be the best way to repair this. While I was there, it was pointed out to me how well made these drawers were along with the quality of the oak that they were made from. It was suggested to use good wood glue, then refinish the piece. I did that. Blaine helped me pick out new hardware and I put a clear finish on it. That was thirty years ago and to this day it looks lovely.

Then I was cleaning the piano, I remembered the old piano that I left in California. This one was purchased with my first tax refund in Wisconsin. I would come home after work, fix supper and playing my songs to relax. This was after I had refitted the room with track lighting. The house that I bought had a center light in the living room. So I took it apart and wired up a track with three flood lights. One went to a picture that Kathy and I had purchased in California. Another shown on a plant in the corner and the third one illuminated the piano.

How about the library table that lives in the corner of our living room? On the shelf under the table are picture albums that track the life in this household. On the top is a statue that the girls gave me when I retired from the hot-line after 10 years there. The table itself belonged to my grandmother at one time. Then it lived with my sister Donna and her family for a while. Donna really didn't like wood things. Betty and I used to call her the "Glass and Brass" sister. She liked shiny new things. So when her boys wanted to make models of cars and boats, she told them that they could use this table. When I got the table, the knife blade marks were all over the top. I stripped it and sanded the top a great deal. It still carries the marks of model making but has a nice finish on it. I even crocheted a square of material that covers most of it.

Then I moved the round table that I have recently put a skirt on. This table also is wood and belonged to my grandparents. When my mother had it in Florida, she wanted a skirt around it. She didn't have enough material so I made a skirt for it out of some curtains. She had it in her living room with a lamp on it. So many memories.

How about the plant stand that is in the front hallway? My Dad made that a long time ago. While I was cleaning it, I remembered the typing table that he also made. I have it in the basement. As long as I can remember, the typing table was painted black and white. I have since repainted it a blue and I used it with my typewriter. (I miss typewriters.)

Each thing that I touched reminded me of someone or something. How about the "Nesting duck" that I purchased from King when my Uncle Art was alive and living there?

Then there is the dimestore mirror that I bought to put in the boys room when they were little. I purchased 4 feet of rope that is an inch thick. I put the mirror on some waxed paper and using Elmers glue, I glued the rope around the mirror and let it sit. After a few days I pealed the waxed paper off and the mirror has been around for about 40 years still encased in rope.

All the things in our lives are there because we chose them or have chosen to keep them around. They are all a part of us, even down to the scratches on them. Each has a story to tell; a treasure from here or there, from this person or that.

How hard it must be to lose everything to a tornado like the people who live in southern Wisconsin this past week. Lost are the treasures of their lives. How does one recover from such devastation? Perhaps by realizing that all the memories are still there, only the things are gone.