Some days were fun when Kenny arrived home in a particularly good mood. After a home-cooked meal, we’d take the kids to the department store and buy brand new shoes. Later he would encourage them to race each other in the front yard. “Look Mommy how fast I can run with my brand-new shoes,” Jeff would holler.
Other times after a spring rainstorm Kenny and the kids would collect new fallen leaves. “Let’s pretend they are boats and have a boat race,” he’d say as he placed the leaves in the puddles of water. Some weekends when the weather was nice he’d grab the basketball and shoot a few hoops with Jeremy. I always hoped those times would last forever I never wanted them to end. I loved seeing him play with our children. But unfortunately, they were too brief and too infrequent during our marriage.
Being home with my children was a privilege I absolutely loved. After Kenny left for work, while feeding the kids their breakfast, I’d take out my Bible and ask the kids to repeat, This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it. We’d all say it together. They always enjoyed learning about Jesus. Excitedly, they would share their Bible stories with Kenny and, depending on his mood, he’d sometimes listen, ignore them, or explode with anger. I never discouraged them from sharing with their father but I would often change the subject when Kenny was near, not wanting the kids—or me—to have to face his unpredictable behavior.
I recently stopped watching soap operas, and felt bad for all the time I had wasted over the years. (I eventually wrote a short story about it and it was published in our church flyer.) But I knew God wasn’t mad at me and I began to use my time more wisely. Spending my spare time reading the Bible, praying with others over the phone and sharing encouraging words with my friends and family members became a priority for me.
In the early years the two little ones kept me occupied as soon as Jeremy left for school. On cold days, we’d gather in the living room and play Duck, Duck, Goose then chase each other around the house. They sat on my lap as we read bible stories and flip through picture books. Singing Bible songs and nursery rhythms was a favorite thing for us to do to.
Gathering up every pillow off all the beds and removing the couch cushions, my little ones pretended to make an imaginary house. It was a special game Kristy and Jeff played often. “I love watching you two plays,” I’d say as nestled my toddlers in my arms.
It was an exciting and sad day when Kristy started kindergarten, sad for Jeff and me but she was only to eager to follow her older brother out the door. Afterwards when school was over I’d fix treats and we’d sit at the table munching our snacks. I’d encourage my children to share their day with me and we would laugh together. Jeremy was pretty quiet, and in order to get him to open up I learned to ask him questions that did not require a simple yes or no. He was always a good little helper and did whatever I asked him. Kristy would run in the door, bouncing with enthusiasm, eager to share her adventures. We enjoyed listening to her funny stories while she crammed carrot sticks or celery and peanut butter into her mouth. Kristy was a little chatterbox and I didn’t have to coax her into talking. Jeff loved to entertain us with his jokes and remarks. He was fearless. Sometimes he would be the first one up and I would find him standing on the kitchen counter his chubby cheeks full and white powder on his lips.
“What were you eating?” I’d ask.
“Nothing, Mama.” Shaking his head
I’d scoop up my youngest and dust the evidence off his pajamas. Once again, he had found the powdered white donuts that I had been saving for his Daddy’s lunch. The other kids always asked permission when they wanted something sweet, but Jeff knew what he wanted and always found a way to get it. I couldn’t help but laugh about it.
Chores came next and afterwards, I’d prepare dinner. I always sat with them while they worked on their homework. Scribbling on a piece of paper, Jeff pretended he had homework too. Continually looking for ways to teach my children about God, as they got older, we read Bible stories, listened to worship songs, memorized verses, and attended church when Kenny allowed it.
Sometimes, we’d gather around the TV and watch age appropriate program. There was a lot of junk on television I didn’t want them to watch, but as soon as Kenny walked in the door he threw my rules out the window. No amount of pleading would convince him to turn off the television or change the channel. Instead, I’d gather up my brood and we’d sit on my king-sized waterbed and read books. Rolling around on the bed, laughing and talking, was a favorite activity before bath and bedtime.
Autumn would bring the promise of cooler nights and shorter days. Every year we looked forward to the annual Chili cook off at the kids’ elementary school which was right across the street from our house. Smelling the chili brought mouth-watering appetites to us all. Halloween soon followed as I dressed up the kids for their school parade. Being in their classroom as a room mother allowed me to see the smiles on their faces during holiday parties. In the evenings we’d sit together on our plush couch and watch the last of the orange and pink rays before twilight beckoned the shiny stars.
Winters in Colorado were enjoyable when my children and I hung out together. Sitting in front of our large picture window we’d watch the snowflakes drop and collect on the ground. Snow days, when the kids were called off from school, were the best. My children and I would bundle up in our warmest clothes, hats, boots and mittens. Walking up the hill, dragging our sleds behind us, we would slide down. Finally, it would be time to head inside for some hot cocoa. Oh, how I wished we had a fireplace to warm up to instead, I’d turn on the oven after preparing a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies the sweet smell of them permeated the house. Then we’d stand in our small kitchen warming up near the oven waiting for our delicious treats reminiscing about all the fun we had just had.
Finally, the winter months would be over, walking outside we’d notice the first glimpse of spring, robins rooting on the ground looking for a fat worm, tulips peeking their tiny buds up, and leaves appearing on the once-empty trees. Spring would bring rain and ear-splitting thunderstorms. Sometimes it even hailed, and the kids and I would run outside afterward and gather up the little white balls of ice. We spent many days and nights huddled together on our cozy, soft couch sitting close to each other and thanking God for all our blessings.
Every May the kids helped me plant a small garden. Watering was easy for them and I did the weeding. They were always ready to collect ripe produce and enjoy fresh crispy vegetables. Their favorite pastime was picking stalks of pink and green rhubarb, rinsing it off with the hose and chewing on it. The tart taste of it brought laughter as they watched each other pucker their lips and make funny expressions. Childhood friends liked hanging out at our house while Kenny was away at work. We’d play across the street where the kids went to elementary school after classes were over. I’d push my little ones on the swings and sing silly songs with them. We’d play Hide and Seek with the other kids from the neighborhood. I preferred to spend most of my time hanging out with my kids and their friends it wasn’t often I hung out with the other moms in the neighborhood.
On hot summer afternoons while Kenny was at work, I’d open the windows and turn on fans then we’d play monopoly for hours in our somewhat cool house. When the heat would get the better of us we’d run out back turn on the hose and have water fights. Sometimes in the afternoons I would prepare crispy fried chicken, grab a bag of potato chips and homemade cookies and take my kids on a picnic. We’d walk over to the school and cover the lush green grass with a blanket while we ate our delicious meal. Many summer nights were filled with the smoky warm whiffs of neighbors barbecuing. Sometimes I even grilled burgers and dogs while the kids stood around watching our hotdogs turn black around the edges. Afterwards it was the perfect time to take our nightly walks. Always hopeful when we rounded the corner we would see the pale yellow, Ford Granada sitting in the driveway, it rarely was. We never knew what time their daddy would be home.
Weeks turned into months, months turned into years. Kenny stopped hitting me, although he’d still occasionally shove me. He continued to criticize me for just about everything that went wrong, when money was tight, when his boss yelled at him and even when the kids acted up. Although his drinking abated for a while it never completely stopped. “It’s your fault I drink,” were familiar words I heard often. Fortunately, I continued to pray every week with my group, attend church and sneak away to pray when things got to overwhelming. I was able to make new friends and even went to a couple of Christian concerts. But I still asked his permission every time I left the house. I thought every wife did that.
Taking my kids to church on Sunday mornings was something I looked forward to. Sometimes my husband even attended church with us. I would have loved to go on Sunday nights but I knew Kenny wouldn’t allow it and I didn’t want to rock the boat. I was trying hard to be the perfect, submissive wife and mother and tried not to think about all the things that were still wrong in our marriage.
Even though I tried to fool myself into believing things were better, I knew nothing had really changed except my attitude. As I continued to try to keep peace in the household, I kept noticing more and more inexcusable things Kenny had been doing. I thought back on our ten-year high school reunion that had occurred a few months earlier. My old friend Myrna had moved out of state years earlier and right around the time of the reunion she was in the process of a divorce.
She flew out for the big day and stopped at our house. After putting the kids to bed, she shared her sorrows with Kenny and me as we listened to music play softly in the background. We both hugged her when she left. I was filled with compassion for her.
“It is obvious Myrna is still hurting over her divorce.” I mentioned to Kenny.
Right after she walked out the door Kenny looked in her direction, snapped his fingers and said, “She wanted me, and I could have had her like that.” Then he walked into the bedroom.
I couldn’t believe he could say something so awful and at that moment I lost all respect I might have had for him. Who was this man I was married to? Who would say something like that especially to me, his wife!
One Labor Day weekend ten years after Kenny and I had been married, a friend of mine from church pulled up in front of our house. Kenny and I were outside doing yard work (as we did most weekends.)
Pat called me over to the car. “Do you want to go to Prospect Lake with our church? They will be baptizing people today.”
“I don’t know if Kenny will let me. I’m afraid to ask him. Will you?”
“Kenny, can Deb and the kids go to the park with me today? The church is having a picnic and my daughter and I are going to get baptized. It would mean a lot to me if she was there.”
He glared at her, “She’s not going anywhere. She has yard work to finish.”
Pat left quickly. I knew better than to plead my case. I didn’t want to ruin the day by having my husband mad at me. Instead I smiled and grabbed the rake. Inside I was dying, wondering why I was being treated so unkindly. After all I was always nice to him. I felt angry with him for not allowing me to go with my friend but even more angry with myself for not standing up to him. I had never gotten over my fear of Kenny and I hated myself for it.
I kept things organized in our home so when Kenny came home everything was in its place. I made sure I was always in a good mood and the kids were on their best behavior. I never told Kenny about things that I struggled with. I talked to my girlfriends and would pray throughout the day. It didn’t occur to me that a wife could talk about her feelings with her husband.
I never expected him to watch the kids. They were usually with me, although by now, Jeremy was old enough to babysit the younger kids for a few moments if I was late running an errand. Sometimes I’d ask my mom for help, but I rarely went anywhere without my kids.
Jeremy was nearly ten and he was extremely responsible for his age. He did his daily chores and helped me with the younger kids whenever I needed his help. Jeremy would often take his siblings with him to his friends’ while I cleaned the house or when Kenny and I got in a disagreement. He was fearful of his dad as we all were, except Jeff. Maybe he was just too young to realize what a bully Kenny was. Sometimes when Jeremy forgot to do a chore, he would tense up and bemoan the fear he felt about his dad. One time when he heard Kenny’s car pulling into the driveway, he came running up to me. “Mom, I forgot to pick up the dog crap in the backyard. Dad is going to be so mad at me. What should I do?”
“Hurry, run out there now. I will keep him busy in here.” Please God don’t let him notice.
I would do whatever I could to protect my children from Kenny’s wrath. Why was I so afraid? What was I afraid of? Now I had taught my children the same thing.
Kristy, who was five and a half, laughed easily and for a while seemed to have a special place in her daddy’s heart. He’d pick her up when she was a toddler, tickle her and sit her on his lap. She was loud, funny, and always tried to get her father’s attention. Kristy kept herself busy playing alone or with one of her friends. She had an active imagination and we all benefited from her singing and role-playing.
Jeff, who was only four, didn’t demand as much attention as his sister. He seemed content getting an occasional hug or a pat on the head. He had several friends around the neighborhood who were always hanging around with him at our house. Later, when Jeff started kindergarten, they would knock on our front door and walk together across the street to the elementary school. He kept himself occupied and out of Kenny’s way.
In our house, the world revolved around Kenny. If something made him mad, the kids and I suffered. We all learned it was best just to try to maintain the peace and stay out of his way when he was in a foul mood.
In my prayer times I begged God to make sure Kenny got a raise so I wouldn’t have to leave my three children and go to work full time. I was still working at a nearby elementary school as an on-call substitute teacher’s aide. I enjoyed leaving the house occasionally and helping out with the bills but I certainly did not want to work full time. My husband was away from home so much either working or drinking and I didn’t want to be away from my kids too. They didn’t need two parents gone.
Although my mother only lived ten minutes away, I rarely went to see her unless we went over for dinner. Mom was pretty busy with her job, attending school part time and her AA friends. About twice a month my mother-in-law invited us to eat with her and my brother- and sister-in-law. There were barbecues, picnics and birthday parties; we’d spend with our siblings and their kids. My sister and I hung out as often as we could. I was close to all my sister-in-law’s and I loved Kenny’s family as well and enjoyed spending time with them. Going out to dinner with family and friends was something we did a few times a year. Of course, holidays were always spent with our extended families. Spending time with family was always a highlight in our home. The kids loved hanging out with their cousins, aunts and uncles’ grandma’s and grandpa.
We did not have many friends who we hung out with. Don who was middle-aged, Kenny had befriended at work would sometimes stop by unannounced. I got the job at the elementary school because of his wife. We occasionally had dinner with them and their two girls. Often times when Don came over Kenny would make sexual jokes to me and grab me in places that should have only been done in the bedroom. Squirming away from him, I’d excuse myself, and go in the other room until Don left.
“Why did you touch me like that? You really embarrassed me. And I’m sure Don wasn’t very comfortable either.”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Don didn’t even notice.”
&nbs
p; It didn’t matter how disrespected I felt, Kenny would not change how he treated me.
I didn’t ask for much, I was content without spending money on myself. I rarely bought makeup and made my mascara last as long as I could. My clothes didn’t need to be replaced too often. I went years only owning one bra and a few pair of underwear. The kids wore hand-me-downs and I didn’t make a big deal out of getting new things. It was more important for me to stay home with my kids and sacrifice where I could. One time, after I had Jeff, I badly needed some new clothes and I prayed really hard for God to provide me with clothes, knowing our funds were low. The next day I went to my part-time job at the elementary school and the secretary, reached out to me. “I noticed we are the same size and I have a whole bag of clothes I was going to give away. Would you like them?”
“Thanks so much, I was just praying about getting new clothes.” I knew God had answered my prayer.
Some paydays Kenny would take us to Kmart and he would decide he needed a whole new wardrobe. After he’d try on pants, shirts, belt, socks and underwear he’d turn to me and ask, “Is there anything you want?” Since I mentally counted the money he had just spent on himself, and I was the one who paid the bills, knowing that after diapers were bought as well as all the things the kids needed, there was no way we would have any money left over, I politely declined. So, I always learned to be resourceful with the household budget, the kids shared plenty of hand-me-downs as well as trying to make things last as long as I could.
Something About Those Eyes Page 20