Grandma, who's this man in this picture?

Grandma, who's this man in this picture?

Well Sweetie, that's a long story from a different lifetime. Would you like to hear the story?

Sure I like it when you tell me stories.

When you were in grade school did you and your friends sit huddled together guessing about what the future held for you? Well, my friends and I did all the time at recess.
I started school in 1956. Times were so different then. My Mom had already started teaching me to be a young lady. Sit up straight, speak only when spoken to, which I might add never quite stuck. Mom was always telling me, “You are a girl, you can't do that.” That was quite annoying, by the way. At that time in my life I was already stubborn, walking to the beat of a different drummer. Even though I was all these things I remained sheltered and naive. When someone told me something I believed them, believed in them, took them at face value. After all why would they lie, or hurt me? I hadn't done anything to them to make them treat me so. I went to church, believed in God, life, love, marriage, children. I was brought up that the Man was the King of the Castle and the job of taking care of home and family was the woman's job.
Like I said, it was a different lifetime. Then most every little girls dream was to be married and have a family.
The times were beginning to change. The sixties came along and I began Junior high , which is now middle school. The world was in turmoil with Vietnam, Korea, Bay of pigs, the assassination of President Kennedy. Women began to stand up saying, to men, that they were human beings with rights. They staged protest to demand equal rights for women.
I saw peaceful protest become violent with college students being shot down for protesting the Vietnam War. Soldiers coming home being shunned, spit on for serving our nation. All this time I went to school and was beginning my journey that would become my life.
I was a “good” girl, didn't make waves and was rather awkward with others. Things were strict at home. My job was taking care of the house, my brothers, cooking, laundry, homework, still going to church.
In church I learned about being obedient to God, my Parents and my Husband. Divorce was very taboo then. People would whisper about that divorcee that had moved in down the block trying to steal a decent woman's husband and wrecking the family. So I learned divorce was bad, marriage was good. I took a silent vow to honor God and not ever become divorced. After all that was a sin. Marriage was a promise you made to your mate under the eyes of God. Your vows were to Love, Honor and Obey in sickness and in health. Even though I questioned many things while growing up, that was not one of them.
But Grandma, who is that man in the picture?

Be patient Rosy, I will get to that. You wanted a story, right?

Yes I do. Then listen carefully as I tell you my story of the man in the picture.
I graduated High School then went on to a trade school where I learned Social Graces, Interior Design, Advertising, Retail and Wholesale in the Market place. I moved out of my Parents house upon completion of the trade school and into my first apartment.
At first I got jobs related to the fields in which I had received my schooling. It was very difficult to live on my own with the salary of $1.30 an hour, so I began to work in factories which paid much better, with health insurance, paid vacations and sick leave.
Slowly I became the black sheep of the family. A disappointment to my Mom. I drank, slept with many men, experimented with drugs, all the while looking for my “Prince Charming” who would give me babies, a pretty little house with its white picket fence.
I had not yet learned of the men who were charming, that were actually people who lied, cheated, using others for their own pleasure and survival.
I wasn't someone of the popular crowd, who everyone flocked around. There were few who were my true friends. I wasn't pretty and never had many boyfriends.
Eventually I lived alone, worked alone and picked up a man to try to fill the void that had become my life. As hard as I looked I couldn't find that one true love that would complete my childhood dream, my “Prince Charming”.
My life was full of fantasy and unanswered dreams. My image of myself became negative filling my head with notions of how undesirable I must be. Believing I would always be alone, no marriage, no children, no little house with a white picket fence. An Old Maid.
Now you are probably asking yourself is this really a good story to convey to a young mind?
No, in all reality it is not. There are those of you which will encounter this question and many more questions similar to this from a young person who you hold dear to your heart. One you wish to protect and always keep from the threat of all things terrible.
In the past, most sinister violent happenings were dealt with by never speaking of or acknowledgment that any dark act was ever committed. Families surrounded the loved one who's life had been in danger. Protecting them with love and silence. Never to acknowledge the terrible acts of passion and betrayal their loved one had endured. It is the silence which allows these acts to continue, to spread and to grow.
As you may have already assumed, I am a survivor of domestic violence.

I invite you to join me as I continue on with my story, on my journey which is my life.
My life continued on alone. A friend from work thought I spent too much time alone and talked me into starting to go out for a drink after work. It was during this period of time I met her brother and was totally smitten by him and his bedroom eyes. My mind ran faster than should be allowed to run. I had us married with children and my fantasy would be fulfilled. Of course as luck would have it that didn't happen. I did become pregnant and had a beautiful baby boy. I did that alone with the help of my parents and brothers. I felt totally like a reject from society. It was not a concealed pregnancy but times were still different, I was not listed as a patient at the hospital and there was no birth announcement in the local newspaper. I would sit up at night crying for the pain I caused everyone. I would apologize to my baby over and over for not having a father for him. I couldn't lose the weight gained from the pregnancy and felt undesirable and ugly. How could anyone ever want me? Damaged goods. At least that is the way I thought.