ILYT Confessions of a Serial Marrier - The List Begins

My father's depression dominated much of my childhood. We all said the word at home after a fashion but it was understood that other people were not to know about this problem. Dad was seeing a special doctor, a psychiatrist, who would help him. Dad's depression manifested itself in the form of general malaise and severe insomnia. He would go nights without sleep. Still he went to work every day and carried on around the house as if he was fine. His personality was gone. Being an engineer dad could do anything, and he did. I didn't know that you called a tradesman for any reason until I was an adult. I thought men came this way, carpenter, electrician, plumber, landscape designer, carpet cleaner, or whatever wasn't woman's work, was dad's domain. The only thing dad would not do was work on the car. The car always went to the mechanic for service. Years later I figured out it was because dad didn't want to risk cutting or burning his hands. Playing piano was the only form of pleasure he had. He played constantly it seemed to me. The background music of my life was Chopin, Debussy, Liszt, Rachmaninoff, Gershwin, Thelonius Monk, Fats Waller, Glen Miller, Hoagey Carmichael, Beethoven. You name it, he played it or was learning it or we had several recordings of it to choose from. My brother was just like dad. He could play like he was born to it. "The next Van Cliburn" became brother's middle name.

One day I came home from first grade and mom was crying. Dad's psychiatrist had called and told her to hide any item that might be used to kill yourself. Dad went back to the hospital for another extended stay.  This time we told grandparents and very, very close friends what the actual hospitalization was for. Some friends just left. Mother told me that some people thought dad was crazy and they were not nice people. I had a fantasy about killing these people. My dad was a genius, a brilliant musician and these people were the crazy ones.

Some days stand out in my memory. On a sunny day dad announced we were going for a ride. He had a surprise! This was going to be fun. We climbed in the old 56 Chevy and off we went. "Where are we going?" was the chorus. "You'll see", was his answer. We drove for what seemed like a long time and in a part of town I had never seen before. Mother started getting nervous. Soon she was crying. "Please don't make me do this", she sobbed. This was taking a nasty turn. "You have to do this, everyone has to do this and today is your day". We are in a parking lot now. Mom is still crying, "please, I will do this later I promise, just not today." "Dorothy, get in there now." Mother got out of the car like a condemned woman to the gallows. I was very quiet. What could this be? It must be some horrible series of medical experiments. Shots or vaccinations. I never wanted to come back here. Poor mommy, where was she? Was she even coming back? Pretty soon she got in the car. "I did it!", she all but yelled with glee. "What?", we asked. "Your mother just got her drivers license". Mother had been driving without a license her entire life. She started driving around her little town when she was about 12 years old but never had the nerve to take the test.

As dad would get sicker mother would get more nervous. Soon we had a list of things that were dangerous. Soon rule number 1, never wake up dad was followed by rule number 2, learn to entertain yourself, quietly. OK, I got these two rules. Dad needed sleep and if brother and I could entertain ourselves the confusion in the house was limited.

Then came the "This could kill you" list. This list included but was not limited to:
Rain
Cold Rain
Going outside with wet hair in the winter, (this is the leading cause of pneumonia in the world)
Riding in a car with a driver under the age of 30
Riding in a car in inclimate weather
Driving a car until you are 30
Flying in an airplane, (my dad designed airplanes for a living)
Any activity after dark
Shaving your legs
Bees
Wasps
Spiders
Any and all water activities lead to polio
Popping a pimple on your nose could cause a fatal brain infection
Roller skating
Riding a bike
The list went on and on. Later the list would include things you must not do when menstruating like never get a permanent, never go to the dentist and do not bathe.

Oh, riding in a car with an unlicensed driver was not on the list.

Like all kids my favorite memories are of Christmas. To this day I have a passion for the holiday and a storage unit filled with decorations. I don't mean a small storage unit, I mean a big-ass climate controlled storage unit. However, the 4th of July was my favorite holiday with dad.

The mornings of the fourth my dad and Bridget's dad would meet in the middle of the street
 with slide rules, pads of paper, empty cans, a water hose, a measuring device and fire crackers. They spent the day entertaining the entire neighborhood blowing cans into the air like missiles. They would determine the angle and the altitude and the trajectory of every shot, re-calculate with slide rules, adjust the amount of water in the holding tank, (coffee can), and the amount of fire power needed in the small can, (number 10 vegetable can). Carefully measured water was placed in the bottom can. An empty can was placed, open side down into the water. Holes poked in the top of the can held the fire crackers, some extra fusing all tied together and BANG those cans would fly into the air. As darkness fell then we could have an entire block or two of combined families fireworks. Bottle rockets, Roman candles, fountains of colored fire, sparklers, Texas Twisters and once in a while a two stage bottle rocket. I loved those days.

One day in 1962 mom and dad announced that they had made an offer on a new house in a new neighborhood. I would be going to a new school next year. I could finish fourth grade in my school but in September I was going to be in an unknown environment full of strangers. Not happy, not at all. I became even more anxiety ridden. Would there be kids my age in the neighborhood? Did they play games of hide and seek and Red Rover until dark? Did they play "pretend" games? Could they sing? Would anyone want to make up little songs and dances with me?

Little did I know that all this fretting was wasted. Salvation lived right across the street from my new house.