Two of my best friends were also in early marriages - one, Joanne, who already had a daughter, Melissa, born in '76, and son Michael, born 9 days before my David, and the other, Sam, my BFF since 3rd grade, who got married a couple of months after me, but was still childless. Joanne and I got together often for lunch at either her house or mine, and the boys began to be friends as babies. Sam was a career girl at the time, and we were in and out of touch with each other, as we had such different lives at this time (she was also having problems that she, as an only child, kept to herself, not telling me till much, much later).
I digress once again. Not long after we moved into our house, Dom informed me that I had to find a night job somewhere because things were tight (could be his coke habit needed more funding?) He also had a fascination with guns, as did his friend Frank, and bought a .357 Magnum.... but we needed more money? I was always terrified of guns, and demanded that the gun was stored in the attic, totally away from my and David's sight. Add to that his subscription to "Hustler" magazine, which once read, went into a box in the attic.
Once we moved to the house, we were closer to some of Dom's friends and their wives (three of whom I really did consider true friends). Our kids were about the same age within a year or so, and we used to have "play group" once a week at some one's house. The moms, Nancy, had Todd, a year older than David, JoAnn (not to be confused with my Joanne), mother of twins Stacy & Jen, a year older than David, and Theresa, who had Melissa, a year older than David and Ricky, two years younger. The kids would get to play, we could sit at the table and complain (or brag) about something our husbands did in the prior week, and have general girl talk. In the winter months, whoever was hosting would make a quiche (very in at the time) and we'd have lunchables for the kids. During the summer, we'd enjoy the pool together with the kids, and have hot dogs on the grill for lunch. The kids had a ball together and David is still friends with the children of two of the moms in this group.
There was another group of moms that we were all pretty much considered "underlings" to, because they lived in better neighborhoods and their husbands were more successful. But all of the guys of the group met the same way, at a factory, and each went either up the ladder or remained status quo, but got together for poker once a month, and a once a year an RV weekend trip to Atlantic City (There's a whole 'nother story there).
Theresa worked at McDonald's on the night shift, and "got me in" to work the same. It was something like 6-11. This seemed to make Dom happy; I don't know how I ever agreed to him handling all the family finances, but he did - actually, I don't think there was ever even a discussion - he was doing it, and I had no say. I do remember my ex mother in law telling me that it's the man's job... but I should have an "allowance" if there was enough money.
Being the new kid on the block in the job, I got to do some of the nastiest elements of a job at McDonald's behind the scenes. I worked the window like everyone else, but at closing time, being the underling, one of my duties was to clean the deep fryer areas. This involved shutting down the fryer (350 degree oil), putting the baskets in the giant dishwasher, and wiping down the stainless backsplash behind the oil bins. It also involved changing the oil using some kind of machine, once a week, then replacing it with a giant tub of something that looked like Crisco when it first came out.
About a month into the job, as I was wiping down this area, and the cloth I was using dislodged a drainage trough which caught the oil coming back down from the exhaust fans. I was never instructed to remove these troughs, rinse and throw them into the dishwasher, which I should have been trained to do. End result was the trough crashing down into the still 350 degree oil, splattering my arms (which I put up to protect my face) and splattering superficial burns on my face and chest.
There was a burn so bad on my left arm that I instinctively wiped to get the hot grease off of me. About a 5" x 5" area of skin of my lower left arm (the hairy part before the wrist) just peeled off and looked like a slab of cheese hanging from me. An equally large area on the back side of my right arm immediately grew into a HUGE blister. The manager on duty told someone to go and get some butter to put on the wounds (what an asshole - worst thing in the world to do) Theresa knew better and said "she needs a clean bowl of ice water!!!" Someone filled a clean plastic trash bag with ice and water and put my arms in it and tied it up. I went into shock... the pain was so severe that it got to the point I didn't feel anything, but started to shake uncontrollably. Instead of calling 911, the manager on duty asked Theresa if she was done with her closing duties and could bring me to the emergency room!
All I can remember is being immediately brought into a triage room, with my arms soaking in a bowl of ice cold, sanitized water. Turned out I had 3rd degree burns on my left arm and 2nd & 3rd on my right. I was given pain meds and antibiotics, the wounds were cleaned and some kind of meds put on them, and and I was bandaged on both arms from my fingers to my elbows after almost 3 hours. Theresa called Dom at some point to tell him what happened and that I wouldn't be coming home for a while.
When I got home around 3:00 a.m., I was greeted with a "what the hell did you do?" I think I told him to go f*ck himself, and dropped into bed totally loopy from the pain meds. When David awoke for a feeding and diaper change, I informed Dom that I was unable to do neither and he'd have to be late for work. I called my mom, who came every day till my bandages were off, till Dom got home and had to take over. He seemed to so resent it, and I internally blamed him for forcing me to get a night job... why couldn't he????
Once I healed, I started a "career" in being a Tupperware lady, where I did ok, but not enough to keep Dom happy. Somehow we managed to appear as a happy couple, but I remember at one point going to a pawn shop to pawn my high school ring and another piece of old jewelry I had to buy David a new pair of shoes. I had a limited "allowance" and I wouldn't put anything but Stride Rites on David's feet during his early growing years. I really had no money of my own to update my wardrobe and pretty much wore the things I had since we got married. No new "trendy" clothes for me! I dutifully turned my paychecks over to Dom when I got them.
Well, the Tupperware thing pretty much ended up being a waste of my time - I couldn't get people to book parties (I'm not an aggressive sales person by any means) and packed that in.
Somehow I ended up getting a job at Friendly's at the ice cream counter, nights and weekends. I enjoyed the job, it was fun, and I met Shirley, whose son David was the same age as my David and years later ended up being neighbors, going to the same school, and becoming best friends.
One embarrassing heartache for me at this job, though, was when my boss, George, approached me and asked me if there was something I could do with my hair. That would never fly now, but back then, my hair was long and straight, and all I really did was pull it back in a pony tail for work. Fluffy perms and blow dried short hair were in style then, and I had neither - there was no money in the budget for that. David's godmother was a barber, and cut Dom's hair for free.
I relayed this to Dom, and of course, there was no money for me to get a perm - they were too expensive. My cousin Kathy, a hairdresser, and also my mom's goddaughter, saved the day when I called my mom and told her about my predicament, and she asked Kathy if she would give me a perm at my mom's house at cost, and my mom would pay for it. I'd never felt so humiliated in my life.
When I think back on all my parents did for us - gave us the down payment on our house, to be deducted from my inheritance, of course, my mom helping when I got burned, my dad who came and tilled a piece of land each summer since we bought the house and planted a garden for us, and hand poured a cement patio at the back of the house using a good old fashioned cement mixer. The only thing he asked of Dom (dad was close to 70 at this point) was to fill the forms that my dad laid out with whatever kind of fill he could find - rocks, scrap metal, etc. - and Dom was scurrying at the last minute (he did fear my dad) grabbing whatever he could find, the day my dad showed up with the cement mixer to do the job. It was clear that my dad was less than pleased. When that job was done, it was my dad that grabbed David and put his hand prints and the date in the corner of the patio. You would have thought that Dom would have been so grateful to my parents, but he seemed to resent them. Maybe he was embarrassed because his mother made it clear from the beginning that she wasn't a built in baby sitter (although she did work full time), and Saturday nights out were theirs. Occasionally we still joined them if we could find a sitter for David, and his dad paid the tab, but at this point, my parents did most of the help.
Life's so funny - many years later, when I was working a second job in the cash office of BJs Wholesale club to make extra money while David was attending college, one of the girls I worked with owned my old house - I noticed the address when I was passing out the paychecks. I asked her if my son's handprints were still on the patio, or if they faded with time, but she reassured me they were still there and wondered who that little boy was! At some point, David visited me at work and met her - I can only remember that her last name was Burnett, like the comedienne, Carol. She looked at him and said "my, what a fine young man you turned out to be - and your hands are a lot bigger!"
Some time in I think '81, the office manager from the accounting firm where I previously worked called me and asked if I'd be interested in working part time, as she was pregnant and was going to leave and they were looking for a new office manager, but she wanted me back as a secretary/paraprofessional - and the money was good. My mom had recently retired, and I asked her if she could babysit David in the afternoons while I worked. She was more than thrilled to do this for me. I had to be at work for noon, so I would drive the 10 miles from New Haven to Derby to drop off David, then drive to Woodbridge (about 5 miles back toward home) to work. My mom met me every day in the parking lot in Woodbridge at 5:00 p.m. and handed David over to me to lessen my trip back to Derby then New Haven. This continued till David entered kindergarten in '84. My mom was a remedial reading teacher before her retirement, and David was reading by the age of 3!!!
Financially, things improved at home, I was "allowed" to buy some new clothes appropriate for work, and we began to renovate our kitchen. My dad and uncle Marty refinished the cabinets and added handles to make them look less 50's, and installed my roll-away dishwasher permanently and added some new cabinetry to blend and make it look like it was always there. We installed a new kitchen floor, and Dom's friend Ralph, who was a carpenter, closed up the over sized doorway between the kitchen and living room, making a "window" with decorative posts in the wall instead (they used to call them shadow boxes), so that we could look through the kitchen from the living room and vice versa. There was already a regular doorway into the kitchen from the hallway, so this made the kitchen look much bigger. Ralph also made a sophet between the ceiling and the cabinets with recessed lights. The old kitchen also had panelling halfway up, which Ralph removed and found turquoise tiles on the wall (remember, it was a house built in the 50's). So he cut that sheet rock out and installed fresh new sheet rock and taped it perfectly to the upper old. My father in law finally got involved, being a master at wallpapering, and papered the kitchen in a really pretty pattern I'd picked out.
In September of '83, I became pregnant again. I had been on the pill since David's birth, and at some point in '83 my OB/GYN guy suggested I give my body a break from the pill, and if we weren't planning any children soon, to use alternate precautions. Well, I don't think I even need to tell you, but Dom would NEVER use a condom (he had passed genital warts to me from one of his cheating episodes and I had to go through a very painful cryostatic removal surgery early in our marriage). Well, as you all are probably aware, the only alternatives were the "rhythm" method, or an IUD, which I REFUSED to do!
When I told Dom I was pregnant, I thought he might be happy, but instead became angry and accused me of "tricking" him (HUH???????). Well, with the support of our neighbors and friends, he seemed to accept it. I started spotting sometime in late November, went to the doc, and they did blood work. They said it appeared the pregnancy was a "low tider" which basically means it wasn't a strong pregnancy and I may miscarry. I was told to take it easy (sure, with a 4 year old, a job, and two dogs!
I am so sorry if any of this sounds gross or offends any of you, but I think this was the most painful point in my life, to this day. I awoke Christmas Eve morning feeling like shit. I felt sick in a way I never felt. My son's godmother, Carol, came for an early morning visit to give David his Christmas present, and she said I looked terrible. I told her I felt horrible and had a funny feeling that I was going to miscarry. She tried to reassure me and told me not to think like that, but soon after she left, I went to the bathroom and felt something leave my body. I KNEW I lost the baby, and yelled for Dom to call the doctor, after explaining why, he did - I wasn't moving from where I was till I heard what the doc said. Dom brought me the cordless phone, and my doctor told me to meet him at the emergency room, and if I hadn't flushed the toilet, to retrieve what I felt "leave my body". I relayed this to Dom, who told me I was on my own on that one, so in tears, I asked him to bring me one of those soft butter containers that we kept for leftovers and such, which he did, and promptly closed the door on me. This was the most gut wrenching experience of my life, to retrieve a three month old embryo (looking like a very small child) and transferring it to a container and covering it.
I was bleeding profusely and had to apply the proper feminine products and dress to go to the hospital. We dropped David off at my in-laws, telling him we had to go see the doctor but we'd be right back, as Santa was coming tonight!
The first thing Dom said to me once we were in the car alone was "it's better off". I couldn't believe my ears and just ignored him all the way to the hospital. My doctor met us there, got me into a room in ER, and being Christmas Eve, staff was limited. This was also back in the day that they had to have proof of a miscarriage because if I had a D&C without "proof" they could have been accused of performing an illegal abortion. Well, pathology confirmed that I had passed a baby girl, but there was still "stuff" that needed to be removed. The only way they could do a D&C with anesthesia was to admit me and wait till the day after Christmas when full staff was on board, as I was in danger of infection and would have to have an IV drip of antibiotics till they could perform the procedure. The only thing that was going through my mind was that it was Christmas Eve, Santa was coming (all the toys were in the attic) and what would this do to David if mommy didn't come home? The only alternative was for my doc to do it with oral painkillers - and that it would be painful. I agreed to it. The nurse helping gave me a wash cloth to put in my mouth and bite on it when the pain became unbearable, and to hold on to her as tight as I needed to. It was nothing like I could ever explain - it felt like my innerds were being pulled from out of me, but I did it, for my David. They drugged me up and sent me on my way with more painkillers and some antibiotics to help me along for the next 48 hours or so.
When we showed up at my mother in law's, the first words out of her mouth were "and don't you start crying - I have enough to cry about tonight" (she had lost her younger brother Skip, who lived with them, earlier in the year, and it was the first Christmas without him, so her tears took precedence.) I was beside myself that she didn't even feel anything about losing a grandchild, but I was back with my David, and I told him that Mommy was all better and after we had dinner and opened presents, we'd go home and wait for Santa. The only people present that hugged me and expressed sympathy to me was Dom's sister (who told me to ignore her mother), Aunt Lee (mother in law's brother Jimmy's wife) and Terry (Lee & Jimmy's son, Jimmy's girlfriend). The night was not about me. I lost something that I guess only I cared about, and went into stoic mode. We had our lobster, manicotti, antipasto, etc., opened presents and went home. I didn't say a word to Dom for the rest of the night except that once David was sound asleep, to get up into the attic and put Santa's presents under the tree. I bathed David and got him to bed, and told him to make sure he slept tight so that Santa would come. When he awoke, happy as a clam, opening all the things Santa brought was got me through what I was struggling with mentally.
We went up to my parent's house later in the day so David could collect more loot from Grammy & "Boopie" (what he called my dad), and Auntie Mel and Uncle Ding (my sister Melanie, and her husband Danny - when David was a baby, he couldn't say Dan, it came out Ding (he loved his uncle Ding), and my sister labelled the two of them as Ding and Dong).
Dom wasn't much of a father in trying sports or teaching David anything. Danny was really the only real father figure in David's life - throw a ball, bat with a giant bat, fly up in the air, etc. and to this day, David is very close to Danny - and still calls him Ding. David's name changed to "Devo" when the band Devo began to appear on MTV - David loved them, and my sister and Danny started calling him Devo, which they do to this day.
Fast forward back to 1984... earlier that year, Dom was helping his friend, Ralph, who did our kitchen, update the second floor apartment (a mess) of Ralph's future apartment into a usable living area. The electrical was not to code, and Dom updated everything to code. Ralph's sister's husband owned the house, and hired Dom to update the electrical, even knowing he didn't have a degree or licence, knew what he was doing. He worked for an electrical supply house, and had knowledge from his uncle Skip, who was an electrical engineer before he was forced to retire due to his heart problems... plus he started attending University of New Haven the previous year to get a degree in electrical engineering, which Uncle Skip was paying for but Dom couldn't handle the pressure of a job, school and husband/father and quit. Uncle Skip was disappointed in Dom. This work was being done sometime in the early spring of '84. Ralph and Patty were to be married in April or May of '84.
David turned 5 in July, and when I went to register him for kindergarten, I actually had a hard time, as he just turned 5, and they scheduled him for afternoon classes for the "younger" kids, with a milder curriculum. I told them that David already was reading, and they questioned whether he was memorizing books or really reading. I told them to test him, which they did, and they were amazed! Not only did they move him to morning kindergarten, but he was going to 1st grade for an hour a day for reading classes!!
I digress - when David was born, my friend Mike, the guitarist, from Bethlehem, CT wanted to come over and bring a gift - we stayed in touch off and on, but Dom insisted on coming home for lunch to make sure nothing else but a friendship existed. But this does play a role in this installment later.
Ralph's sister Janet had a horrible relationship with her husband, Ray, but they had a daughter, Dawn, who was about David's age. David and I accompanied Dom on these renovation trips, because Ralph's sister, though married, always had a group of her single girl friends over almost every night. I went because at this point, I had no trust in Dom, and wanted to be there. Besides, David had a playmate to boot.
The "girls" accepted me, and asked me to join them for "Thursday Night Out".... I was shocked that Dom agreed to "allow" me to go, as he was always suspicious that I would cheat (I guess a cheater doesn't trust), and started to go to a popular dance club on Thursdays. One of the girls in the group, Denise, had a boyfriend named Mike who was one of the most unattractive, fat, pockmarked guy I had ever seen. Denise relayed the fact that he was just someone to say she had a boyfriend. Her previous boyfriend, who was very handsome, dumped her for a beautiful, educated woman. Denise actually hid behind a tree the day he married her, basically stalking their wedding.
I stayed in the loop of the Thursday night out because I didn't trust Denise - she was a tall, big titted Italian (no racism meant) that was as dumb as a stump, but according to some of my male friends from work, gave a hell of a blow job out in the parking lot of the bar.
She visited our house frequently over the summer when Carlo had to go. She wanted to be my BFF it seemed, but she was after my husband (which I later found out.) She called frequently too, and also came over with Mike a couple of times on a Friday or Saturday night, for cocktails and pickies and to play Nintendo, which was HUGE at the time.
Fast forward to fall. Dom wasn't the least bit interested in seeing his son get on the school bus for the first time. I had switched my work hours to a.m. while David was at school, but hadn't found anyone to get him off the bus till I got home, except my neighbor, Rose, who said she would, but to remind her.
Carlo was gone, and I was taking David, my mom, and my 2 aunts to the Bethlehem Fair. Dom didn't want to go. When I got to my mom's house, she didn't feel like going, and my aunt Sophie and aunt Claire didn't feel like going either. I wasn't about to go back home, as I was half way there, so Dave and I went. I never even gave it a thought to call Dom and tell him it was just me & David going.
My friend Mike was running the hot dog/hamburg stand for the Rotary Club and we went by to say hello. His mom, who was secretary of the fair for years, wanted to see David. They always let me park in their driveway, right next to the fairgrounds. We stopped by the secretary's booth to say hi, and Mike's mom asked us to please hang around till the end (5:00) so that she could get to chat with David, who she heard so much about, but never saw.
At the end of the fair, Mike's mom invited us over to see the new horses that they acquired. Heather, who was born of one of their horses, Ginger, was a beauty. She was born in the winter and they brought her inside by the fireplace to get warm and bottle fed because Ginger didn't take to her mom duties right away.
Mike whistled and yelled "Heather" and she came running. She was enthralled with David's hair, which was the color of straw, and just kept licking him. This was David's first experience with a horse, and he fell in love with her.
We didn't stay too long, and stopped at my mom's before we went home. David's first day of school was the next day, and I called Dom to say we were on our way home, but to call our neighbor Rose, to remind her to get David off the bus the next day and that I'd be there within a half hour to get him.
Well, as usual, I was the only one there to take pictures of David getting on the bus for the first time. I later got a call at work from Rose, who asked what she was supposed to do with David, as the bus dropped him off there. Dom never called her. I apologized and said I'd be there within a half hour. I called Dom when I got home from picking up David from Rose's house, and he said "he forgot."
I had something to do the next night, (food shopping I think) and David drew a picture of Heather. When his father asked him who it was, he told him it was Mommy's friend Mike's Heather the horse.
When I got home, I was interrogated about how David got to see Heather, and I explained. He accused me of making up the story that my mom and aunts didn't feel like going. He called my mom and verified that she didn't feel like going.
Well, Denise took full opportunity (even though she didn't know the story at the time) to tell Dom (I'm guessing he called her and told her what he suspected) I was cheating on him with Mike.... WHEN????? She told him I met him on a couple of our "Thursday Night Girl's Night Out" SO FULL OF SHIT!!! AND she got the other girls to back her because they were BFF's and knew that Denise was after Dom. Not only was Mike was dating Kathy at the time, he usually had gigs to play from Thursday-Sunday. We were just friends, and his mom really wanted to see David, and David wanted to see the horses. Nothing more. Her calls to me almost became non-existant. When I called her, she said she was busy with her new boyfriend, Angel Aponte.
Well, the next night, after David was asleep, Dom got in my face, accusing me of having an affair, and tried to hit me, but I ducked, and he missed. I picked up the phone to call my brother in law, who, although much smaller than Dom, was a 3rd degree black belt in Karate and could have kicked his ass from here to kingdom come. He ripped the phone out of the wall. I was never so frightened in my life, as I had never seen this side of Dom. I threatened to go across the street to our neighbors', who were like parents to us, and he stopped.
I made arrangements for David to be dropped off at Louise's house, around the corner from us, who had a day care, and signed up for it. It was reasonable.
Dom continued with an attitude toward me and I suggested that maybe he should go back to his mother's house for a few days to get himself together, because I had no idea what was bothering him.
A few days later, my poor neighbor Josephine, across the street from me, witnessed Dom removing things from the house to his truck while I was at work. She couldn't remember the name of the accounting firm I worked at and was sick over what she saw him doing.
I stopped at Louise's on my way home and she said Dom picked David up (odd, I thought). When I got home, the house was in a shambles. He took what he thought he was entitled to; I didn't know where David was. I called Dom's mother's house and he answered the phone. I asked where David was and he said "right here" but wouldn't let me talk to him. I was frantic. He said he would be over in a little while. He showed up, without David, and I was freaking out. He got in my face and said he knew I was cheating and was moving out, wanting a divorce - and he wanted it to KILL me to see me lose the house! I reminded him that my parents provided the downpayment and at such an early stage, we had no equity in the house, and the only person he would hurt by trying to get the house was David - who would lose his neighborhood friends, his school, his home. Dom also took Mandy, and dumped her with his mother. The fight was on.... when I questioned his mother as to what had transpired, all she could say was that he was mad and didn't want to talk about it.
Dom left and I still didn't know where David was... my sister in law (Dom's sister) finally called me and said she was on her way with him, as they went to McDonald's for dinner. David knew nothing about his father moving out, and I tried to act as normally as I could. I told him daddy was still at grandma's because he was mad about something, but David didn't understand why daddy took "Mimi" (who was Mandy). I told him Mandy was at grandma T's because no one was home to take care of her at our house while daddy moved to grandma "T's.
Well, I was served with divorce papers. I hired an attorney to represent me, who suggested a private investigator, which my mom and dad offered to pay for. Turned out, Dom was involved with Denise. One Sunday in the near future, when Dom supposedly had David for a "custody" visit, I went to pick up David at Grandma "T"s. Dom was all prepping in the bathroom, shaving, etc. I took David with me, and on the way home, passed by Denise's house - who was walking up to her door, but Dom..... and Denise walking out to meet him. Denise's mom and dad were outside putting Xmas lights on their bushes and came up to the car to say hi.... I asked them who they thought that guy was, and they responded "Angel Aponte" Denise's new boyfriend. I informed them that that was my husband, and they should be ashamed of themselves for raising such a whore, and drove away. David asked me why daddy was going to Denise's house, and I told him daddy was probably going to do some electrical work.
Divorce laws in CT require a 3 month "cooling" period.... and counseling through Catholic Family Services (if you're Catholic). Dom went to one session and refused to go back for anymore, but I continued. I at least got in the preliminary hearing that Denise NOT be present in any visitation that Dom had with David, and it was granted... much to his chagrin.
Thus began the doldroms of my life.... you have no idea what's coming up.
6 comments:
WHEW!!! That took some BIG courage to spill what must have been so painful. Love you Jo.
Thanks, Jeanie - it's stuff I've repressed for years, all for my little guy. It gets worse before it gets better, but it does get better.
Wow! I hope that writing this has been a catharic experience--so many painful memories. At least now looking back you know there is light at the end of the tunnel.
You should have a kleenex warning at the beginning of that one, Honey. You had me in tears. I am so sorry for the loss of your baby girl. I have a close friend who lost her baby girl and she named her and she is now Alyssa, our guardian angel. When the story turned to Dom doing electrical work on someone's home, I was hoping for an accidental death. I'll keep hoping. You are a wonderful and dedicated Mother. Love you, Girlfriend!!!!
Thank you all so much... It was, indeed a very difficult time for me, with more shit to come before it gets better. Thankfully, being a middle child, I was always the strong one, and I was always a clown. My son and my "crazy" sense of humor kept me going through so much of this... although I didn't realize it at the time.
JoAnne, you are quite the survivor. I'm so glad that you have found a happy place. Stay there!
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