Back to New York

Florida was the first time I remember Mom leaving Dad (the first of many).  One day when he was out walking, Mom gathered us and the few belongings we had and we quickly piled into Meme's car, which seemed to have been waiting around the corner for Dad to leave the house.

Mom and the four of us kids set up residence in Meme's new husband, Ken's house.  It was a very cool house, especially having come from the home in the poor neighborhood with no electricity.  Most vividly I remember a huge marlin and swordfish mounted on the wall in the main living room.  I also remember that, for a family that had just rid itself of all of its anger and negativity that was Dad, everyone seemed very tense, all the time. 

Dad found us, of course.  A fight ensued between he and Ken.  Gary jumped in to help Dad.  I cried on the sidelines for the humiliation Dad must have felt. Eventually, through Dad's wooing, we left Ken's house and moved into an apartment complex with him.  I've often been reminded that this was mainly my fault as I "missed my daddy."  It's funny how we forget wrongs done to us so quickly when loved ones are involved.  I am still quick to forgive though--life is just too short for grudges.  Not that I don't regret getting our family back together--I often imagine how different our (Mom, Dory, Gary, Dave and my) mental states would be now had we not had to endure so many more years of his abuse.  Would we be happier, more confident, more successful...? 

We lived with Dad a short time in the apartment complex (the one pictured--isn't it lovely?) I wrote of earlier--remember the "Yellow Submarine" and Jeannie Manini and Gary's friend's blind father?  This is where Dad actually had a job (a rare occurence) selling VW's.  I always loved it when Dad worked because he was 1. happy, 2. gone, and 3. we had money. 

He must have gotten a pretty good paycheck or stole the money, who knows, but it was enough to get us back to New York.  We left for New York like we had for Florida--quietly in the wee hours, but this time I knew what was going on.  And I was glad to be going "home."  It was the summer of 1977.

Home was where I got Grampa O'Brien's hugs, family gatherings with cousins, aunts and uncles, and friends that I'd been missing. 

I don't remember the ride home like I do the ride down.  We stayed with Uncle Dan and Aunt Tiela when we got back--now they had three children.  The younger siblings I always wanted.  I wished we could stay there forever.  But as I was enjoying my new cousins, Kelly, Mickey and John, Mom and Dad were looking for a new place for us to live...

This new place would provide the majority of rocks into the brook that would become the symphony that is me.

Jen ;-)

Post Script:  Sorry, Toni, I'll get to a happy Mom memory--I promise.  I just needed to get this transition in here.