OOPS....

I will start off with an apology for this entry in what some may think is a never ending saga of my perhaps rather interesting or maybe silly life.  But there are times when current life events cloud the brain and make it difficult to concentrate on past events.  More like difficult to find the time to even think.

I love to post on Wednesday's and here it is Thursday and my brain is awash in other things.  I always feel guilty when I don't get a new chapter of my life out so today you will hear my excuse.  Plus you don't need to worry that something terrible has happened.

It is hard not to spill the beans on my further adventures since last week's story but three years ago I got involved in a Little Theater.  Maybe the real word for it is addicted. Over the course of the last three years I have been in six productions, four musicals which have to be my favorite. Even though the Little Theater is a new thing for me if you have been reading my story you might remember at the age of seven my little brother and I were doing shows using the garage as a stage with chairs in the driveway for those brave enough to sit through 
(or endure) our little plays. All through school if there was a play I was in it.

Since the first week in January we have been rehearsals for "Hello, Dolly".  Don't laugh....I did try out for the part of Dolly but someone much more talented than I got the part.  So, I am in the ensemble which means I get to sing and dance, drive a total of 4,000 miles by the end of the play and have a wonderful time.

Usually I can still get my brain to go back in time once a week during the production and remember all my silly or dramatic stories.  The problem this time is that I opened my mouth and stood on my soapbox.
Dolly takes place around 1900 to 1910.  Cool, let's just break out the Oklahoma costumes which was in the same time frame was the idea until I shrieked that this was New York, not rural Oklahoma. This was not gingham and petticoats, it was not Victorian with hoop skirts and miles of ruffles, this was Edwardian with corsets and waistlines and skirts edging up above the ankles.  It was looking sophisticated  and feminine and most important great hats.

Being friends and helping our great costume lady I knew we did not have a supply of period correct lady's costumes. So, I opened my mouth and said I would make them.  Naturally I did not really mean "I" would make them all as I have a wonderful friend who sews better than I do and together we had made a few..a lot for the children's play last summer. So the I was actually a "we" and without her the cast would look like rural Oklahoma had invaded New York. Naturally I dragged her to the auditions and made her try out against her wishes.  Why should she just sit home and sew and not have all the fun of her life being totally consumed for two months.

Lucky for us the theater's wonderful costume shop has hats that are awesome and patterns were available that were perfect for the era. The real costumer, MaryAnn, has been thankful for the help.  She is great with the costumes and is already making plans for the next two productions.  Don't know if it is good or bad that her plans include us.
Doesn't sound right now that we are going to be fired.  I'll let you know later if that is good or bad.

We are now one week from opening night. There are twenty three ladies and maybe thirty some costumes about half of which are done. I think sometimes I have dragged poor Sindy into one of my silly schemes but she seems to be holding up well. If she does not kill me or never want to see me again after the next week is over I will count her as the greatest friend anyone ever had.  But our daily drive to the theater always seems to be filled with laughter when we should be practicing the songs. 

I'll go back to my story next week or just post pictures of all the costumes. That is only if I am still alive.

My idea of How Lucky I am To Be A Baby Boomer holds so true because Sindy and I have the time to do this.  I Should Have Known how much work, how much sleep would be lost and how difficult this little venture would be.  But hey, never pass up an opportunity to not only have fun but to live life doing what you want to do no matter what your age.

Unbelievable

After the camping trip with Wally over Labor Day weekend I realized that I had not cried every day for the entire weekend.  It was rather interesting that it seemed there was some point everyday since I filed for divorce when the tears would just pour out.  I never figured out where the tears came from since I was the one who instigated the divorce.

Maybe the tears came from not knowing what was going to happen next, maybe from the stress of all of us living together in the same house with no exact time frame of when this would be over. I do not think anyone who has not lived through a similar situation can really understand.  The only way I knew how to handle it was to continue on trying to keep things as normal as possible mainly for the two boys who were not sure just what was happening.

School staring was a blessing since it would put some structure back in Wes and Wally's lives and give them time with their friends.  Wally had said to me that he did not know anyone whose parents got divorced.  That was when I realized just how hard this was for him.  I told him he probably had several friends whose parents had separated and that things would get better. Sure enough shortly after school started he found a little boy that had gone through the same thing.  I do not know if they talked about their parents but Wally thought the little boy and his Mom were pretty cool since they had a pet wild rabbit named Thumper that lived in the house and would come when you called it's name.  At that point any help was appreciated (I thought the rabbit was pretty cool).

Wes was glad for the school year to start.  It was rather noticeable after he had gone with Dennis for the weekend that he was a little more snarky with me.  It was difficult to blame it all on the divorce and just turning fourteen probably had something to do with it.  There were times when I should have smacked him but I tried to be patient.  One time when I had to pick him up from soccer practice and was still dressed in a warm up suit with a little paint on it he said in a very loud voice for me not to pick him up dressed liked that again.  When he had to walk home the next day he never said that again.

One night Wally had a Cub Scout meeting and I was going to look at a new customer's home so I was going to drop Wally off on my way.  For some reason Dennis kept insisting he would take Wally which was not something he ever did.  I had the feeling Wally wanted me to drive him so against Dennis's objections off Wally and I went.  The scout meeting was only a few blocks away and after I dropped Wally off and drove almost to the client's house I noticed I had no brakes.  That was strange because the Bronco was pretty new and I hadn't had previous problems.

Lucky for me the Bronco's five speed transmission made it easy to get to the client's home and back to pick up Wally.  I should thank my brother Paul for teaching me one of the finer points of driving slightly defective automobiles when I learned to drive.  Dennis was not home when I got home but I left a note and he took the Bronco in to be repaired the next day. I had a few negative thoughts about the brakes not working but sort of just figured it was one of those things.  I did ask Dennis when the brakes were fixed what had happened to them but did not get much of an answer.


That fall was really beautiful with all the trees turning every color.  My wallpaper business was getting really busy and there were some drapes and window coverings beginning to be ordered.  I was happy about the business as my ability to ask Dennis for money was slowly evaporating.
The really bright spot happened when a neighbor asked me to wallpaper her kitchen.  Sometimes a real friend pops up right when you need them and Claire became one.  We chatted as I worked and I told her about the divorce when she asked about my family.  It must have been one of my not so great days and the tears started to flow.  Wes had been particularly rude for several days and the whole situation seemed hopeless.  Wonderful Claire had me laughing in no time by pointing out some of the humorous aspects and assuring me things would get better as she had gone through much the same thing many years before. I learned that day that even when you feel hopeless all you have to do is to look around and realize you may be pretty lucky.

It was hard to hang on to that thought with what happened the week before Thanksgiving.  It was a Tuesday night and Dennis was getting ready to go out of town on business until Friday. He did a bunch of paper work at the kitchen table the night before he left.  The next morning some of his wadded up paper had not made it into the trash can. When I was picking it up I noticed on one was a drawing of a dead bird so I straightened it out.  With the picture of the bird were the words "If you love her, let her go then hunt her down and kill her". Do I need to say that was just a little unsettling?

I thought about it and really could not rationalize it.  The next afternoon I put in a call to Bob, my attorney, and told him what it had said.  His reply was for me to get to his office in one hour. When I got to the office he had seven or eight people from the office sitting around the conference table. He then told a story about a man who came home for dinner every night and did not drink or run around.  After his wife filed for divorce he spent several weeks begging her to stay and then began not coming home or coming home for dinner and then leaving. Then he showed them the piece of paper I had found and asked everyone at the table what I should do.  The unanimous answer was to get him out of the house. 

So, Bob said I needed to not be at the house when he returned on Friday and that he would try to get an emergency court appointment before Thanksgiving. When I sort of balked at the idea as I had no place to go he explained to me that he had handled a case that was similar  mine.  One day the woman answered the door and was blown away by a shotgun blast from the hands of her husband. He told me he would never let another client take that chance as he had to live with it the rest of his life.

I really did not know what to think.  Was Dennis capable of that?  We never owned a gun or had one around.  He did have a temper, he was not happy with the divorce, could he or would he do something like that?  In the end I really could not take the chance.  On Friday I told the boys we had to leave the house but not the reason why except that I did not want to be there when their Dad came home.  Wes refused to go.  So Wally and I left and checked into a motel across town.  Bob had said not to tell anyone where we were and he would call me when he had a court date.

How do you explain this to an eleven year old little boy?  There was not a way as I could not tell him I was afraid his father would try to kill me.
I really doubted it myself but Bob had said that was the kind of thing you read about in the paper everyday. That had to be the worst time of my life and I can still remember feeling like a fugitive in hiding.  I drove Wally to school on Monday with the instructions that he could not tell anyone where we were without really giving him an explanation.

Bob got us into court on Wednesday morning.  I dreaded having to see Dennis as I knew he would be mad and professing innocence, which he did. But the Judge granted his removal from the house by the following Tuesday.  Dennis did request we trade cars as he could use the Bronco to move things.  I ended up with his Thunderbird and we traded in the parking lot.

Since Wally and I could not go back to the house until the following Tuesday we decided to go to Riverton, New Jersey for Thanksgiving and stay with friends.  Wes had decided to stay with his Dad. Truthfully I had a great sense of relief heading east through Ohio and onto the Pennsylvania Turnpike.  There were a lot of things I would find out about later concerning Dennis that may have made a difference in all of this but as horrible as the ordeal was it certainly was the right thing to have happen. 

I, who dislikes all holidays, remembers this one as very special.