Your dad chose Chicago for our next home. He decided to get his jet rating and go after the money. His brother was flying for an airline by then, and his best friend was flying out of Chicago. Both were making good money.

We found a little apartment. He told me he wanted to leave. He didn’t want to be married to me or have the responsibility of children. He didn’t love me anymore. I panicked. I did not have a job, no money and two babies to care for. I begged him to stay. So he stayed. He hung out with his friend, got his jet ratings, and I took care of you two.  

One night a man came to the front door, banged on the door and tried to come in the front door, and then tried to get in the back door. We were asleep. The noise woke me up.  I called the police, and they came and checked through the house, then left. There was blood all over the doors and steps at both doors. In the dark I washed the blood off the steps so no one would see it. Your dad was not there. I am not sure I even told him. 

He left me emotionally at that time although not physically. Spiritually he had been gone a long time. His brother Rick lived in Abilene, Texas, so we moved there. Another apartment. This time I got a job working evenings in surgery. I would bundle both of you up after lunch and take you to childcare, then pick you up after my shift ended, fast-asleep. You were impossible to wake up once asleep. I felt so guilty leaving you at daycare. 

In the mornings when he was home, he could not tolerate any noise, so I would get up with both of you and play in the park until a reasonable hour. Then he got fired. Once again, I quit my job and packed up everything in a U-Haul. Grandma came to visit. He took the U-Haul to San Angelo, got a job there, and put our things in storage. She volunteered to take you kids and I to California until he found a place for us to live. 

That was an awful trip. She had peanut butter and jam sandwiches for the whole road trip. It was a challenge to keep two little ones happy hour after hour in a car. Finally we got to Los Gatos and we stayed in the “Prophets chamber” (a small apartment owned by the church). Weeks went by. All I had was one suitcase each of summer clothes, no credit cards, no job and no bank account. Winter was coming and he didn’t call. Finally, desperate, I called the airline and found a phone number where he was staying. A woman answered the phone, he was living with his flight attendant. When he came to the phone he told me he wanted a divorce and not to try to come to San Angelo. I had a meltdown and your grandmother continued to act like nothing was wrong. A very dear old lady named Hazel came up to me at church and handed me $500 dollars. She told me God told her to give it to me. She didn’t even know my story.

So, off to Uvalde we went. Everyone else in my family was in Africa. Lani and Dave McClure worked at the Wycliffe training center for Wycliffe missionaries to prepare them for the mission field, and they lived at the camp outside Uvalde. They had a cottage in town where EJ and Anna lived. EJ was in junior college and Anna didn’t work or go to school, so was happy to babysit. 

I took a shower, unpacked and headed to the Uvalde Hospital across the street. I was wearing jeans and sandals and had wet hair. I was just scoping out the hospital. I found a job posting board, and was reading it when this lady in scrubs accosted me. “Are you looking for a job?”

“Yes”. 

“What do you do?”

“I am a surgery nurse.”

She grabbed my arm, and said, “When can you start?”. Seriously, she did not know my name. She was the nursing director and filling in for the surgery department because they didn’t have staff. I started work the next day. 

That weekend I went to San Angelo to pick up things from the storage unit. His girlfriend had the key, and came with me to help me load the U-Haul. Since he was living with her, he didn’t need household things. We negotiated for the stereo (he loves music so that was his) and I wanted the TV. I had kids and she already had a TV so they didn’t need it. How rational. She was nice and we went out for breakfast before I left. Driving back, I was singing to keep my spirits up and trying not to cry. Suddenly I realized I was singing in tongues. I never have since. It was comforting.

The pastor in the church where I went told me not to respond to his divorce papers. So I ignored them, hoping he would change his mind. Then your grandmother called me and threatened to take you away from me. Not your brother, just you. I finally signed them and sent them back, voila, I was divorced. He was ordered to pay child support but that didn’t happen. 

One day he came to visit. I had been there for about 6 months. He told me he made a terrible mistake and wanted to get together again. Once again, I packed up and quit my job. He didn’t work at San Angelo anymore, so there was nowhere for me to move. I think he worked in Chicago again for a bit, flying for a lettuce farmer? I have forgotten.

My parents were in Iowa. So I drove to Iowa to visit. Stayed there a bit, didn’t hear anything from your dad so moved up to New York and stayed with my brother and wife in New York. My sister Winnie and her husband Dave and I borrowed Dad’s big car, and made the trip to Texas from New York. Most of the furniture I gave away or sold, and brought the essentials back to NY. 

Meanwhile, your dad lost the Chicago job, and found a job pumping gas at the airport in Florida. He lived in a house with two women, one of which was in love with him (I saw a letter she wrote him). I had no idea where he was or what he was doing, so I got a job as a nursing aide in the Cooperstown hospital at night. That was perfect. 

Your Aunt Ellen was amazing at parenting. I would be laying in bed trying to sleep. You and your brother would be in the living room playing with Lego. I would hear Ellen come say; “Lunch will be ready in a bit.” The playing continued. Then, she would come and say: “As soon as you get this cleaned up we can eat”. Little lego bits went in the basket in a rush. Uncle Paul and Aunt Ellen were (and still are) the best parents and role models I have ever known. I have often regretted that I didn’t just settle next door with you kids. 

Other than a gerbil disaster (the cat ate your gerbil), it was a great time and place for you two kids. You especially loved the snow. You would be blue with cold and still did not want to come in. We always spent time off doing something fun.  Your cousins enjoyed playing with you. My working nights made it possible to spend a lot of time being a mom and I learned so much from Ellen. 

Before long your dad changed jobs again. I don’t know much about that except this time he bought a fancy TransAm. He drove it up to Paul’s house and took me with him to meet his new “boss” who was hiring him as a pilot to work out of Manaus, Brazil. The guy lived on Lake Erie. He met us at the door in a silk robe and had a scotch in his hand. I have never seen such a place. The dobermans had a heated dog house with carpet to sleep on. There was an indoor outdoor pool with a bar at the pool. Our bedroom was glass on 3 sides looking out at the lake and had a huge round vibrating bed. There were gold bathroom fixtures, naked redhead pictures on the wall, marble floors and velvet lined drawers in the opulent dressers. Behind the jacuzzi was a mosaic redhead you could turn the lights on behind while you were bathing. His and hers everything including bidet. 

Your dad borrowed $60 thousand from his mom and invested in the man’s company. He left the car with my brother (it got reposessed). When he got to Brazil, no one met him. There was no plane. It was all a scam. He learned Portuguese in record time; he was very gifted with languages. Started buying and reselling gold from the miners. Somehow he met Daniel from Rio. Daniel had a gold mine taken away from him and the two of them got connected. I think Daniel was Italian? Not sure. At any rate, your dad said he was ready to settle down and wanted me to come to Brazil. 

Again, I quit my job. I sold the little Ford Fiesta, and bought a round trip ticket to Brazil. Then I went out and got a glamor picture to give him as a gift. I took a trunk of clothing and dishes, things to cook etc. Everything to start over in Brazil. I used to work on “worst case scenarios”. I told my brother the worst thing that could happen was I would come back, and I had a round trip ticket. So that was OK. I left you kids with Paul and Ellen, probably the wisest decision I made since your birth. By then I had lost count of how many moves we had. I am so sorry. 

I have nothing to say in my defense except I had no internal resources to manage being unloved and abandoned. No one in my family was divorced. Everyone told me to trust God, keep praying and I would win your dad over. God hates divorce, and I experienced first hand from the church and missionary community the rejection of being a Christian outcast. There did not seem to be any alternative to remarriage if I wanted a father for my kids. Looking back, I think God rescued me multiple times out of a bad situation but I wouldn’t stay in the hedge of protection He provided. I was the one lost sheep Jesus had to keep looking for, always straying. 

The place he was staying in Brazil was a big house with a pool and iron fencing with a gate. There was one inner room with bars on the window and a locked door.  People would come and go into the room. They had all sorts of cut gems and would show them to him or Daniel. They just took a folded paper out of their pocket and opened it up to show emeralds, diamonds or other stones. The stones would be inspected, weighed, and they discussed pricing. I spent my time in the pool, read every book I could find and did nothing of value. Thanks to God I didn't get pregnant again. My trunk finally came and everything was still in it, but the picture had shattered. By that time, I had realized we were not getting married and I gave up. I was missing you kids, something fierce. So I flew back to get you from Paul and Ellen’s. 

Now I didn’t have a car, job or bank account. I did have enough money to go to Florida where my parents now lived in retirement at Media. So, with just suitcases we moved once again. Media was a fun place to visit. Your grandparents adored you, and I know you were happy there. I spent a lot of time bike riding during your naps. One day I came back to find your dad’s mother on the phone. No one knew she was coming. Dad was sitting silent in his chair, tapping his finger on the arm repeatedly. Stiff and angry. Even more quiet was Mom. That was very odd, she was a talker and never inhospitable. But she didn’t want your grandmother to stay, that was obvious. Your grandmother welcomed me and set down the phone. I (of course) said it would be fine if she stayed with us, and set to making the bed up. It was time for me to move on, I was an adult child mooching off my parents and it did not sit well. Your grandmother (as always) had a plan already arranged. 

The next morning she took us to Disney, from there we drove to Dale and Sherry’s Streamside camp in the Poconos. She had arranged for me to be the “camp nurse”. You might remember Streamside? You were four then. It was a fun summer. I had a small cabin to share with you two, and my nursing work was nothing but fun. The black kids from south side Philly came in droves. They had never had mosquito bites before: so I dotted them all over with calamine lotion. I used the burn gauze and hangers to make fish nets and butterfly nets. The nurse was definitely one of the most popular people on campus. We did have one awful scare. My friend Cheryl was the lifeguard. Black kids swim underwater (more muscle mass). One kid had a seizure under the water and Cheryl had to rescue him. I helped resuscitate him and he did OK. 

I am not sure how she did it, but your grandmother arranged for your dad to show up at camp. He wasn’t done in Brazil but had decided to pick me up and move to California to live there. He had a friend who salvaged cars from auctions and realigned them, painted and resold them. He bought an aged VW van. It had a crack in the gas tank so we went north to Paul’s to get it fixed. Your dad didn't have any money so my Dad gave him $300 dollars. Dad told him “I want you to repay this, not Esther”. He never did to my knowledge. Anyways, Paul welded the gas tank and we drove to California. I remember praying really hard in Flagstaff. The van was overheated and I was sure we would never make it. Somehow we did. We rented a house in Los Gatos. The elementary school was just down the street, and I quickly got a job at Los Gatos Community hospital. Starting over again. You have to count backwards to figure out how old you were then and how many times we moved. There must be some sort of award.