Mom’s Life continued

The following may be triggering for some.



When Mom was nine or ten, her Uncle took in an old man named Tom who was about 50 or so. He was balding and brought candies, goodies, and gifts for the children. Tom asked Mom if she wanted to go for a walk with him. He took her to the tents and raped her. She spent the better part of a year staying away from Tom. She was too embarrassed to tell anyone what had happened. She knew she needed to tell so that he could be stopped. She worried he would hurt other girls. She also worried that she would be damned to hell and that she was diseased from the encounter. One night she prayed for hours that she could be forgiven. Shortly after that night she told Grandma what had happened. After Mom told, Tom was kicked out the community. She thinks he raped many of the little girls in the cult. He was never reported to the authorities. At that time in history, rapes were buried not reported.

When Mom was a girl, her father had two wives. The leader of their community (one of Mom's uncles)  had five wives. One of his wives died from the effects of childbirth. He adored this young wife and was devastated by her death. After she was buried, he would go to her grave site, dig up her body, and hold her tenderly in his arms. He didn’t want to let her go. Now she had not been embalmed, so she must have been getting pretty foul. He knew he couldn’t keep doing this, so the last time he dug her up, he broke off one of her fingers and removed all the flesh from the bones. He carried these bones in his pocket until his own death. When nervous or stressed, he would rub the bones together.

As children, Mom and her siblings were hungry. She would take an apple or orange to school for lunch, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her hunger. After school when she was about fifteen and worked at the store owned by the cult, she took money out of the till to buy candy bars because she was so hungry. She told Grandma about it, so Grandma decided to let the kids get school lunches.

When Mom was about fifteen, a house was built for her mother. They were finally able to move out of the tents. Mom said, “The new house was like being in heaven.” Grandma didn’t like the floor plan of the house. The builder had not listened to her wishes at all, but it was better than living in the tents. After ten years in the tents, they were eager to be back in a real house.

Mom had an uncle who was schizophrenic. He was a year or two older than Mom. When he was nineteen or twenty his mental illness became acute. They were friends and palled around together. He joined the military, but was released with a dishonorable discharge. He was placed in the state hospital, but escaped. It was probably the military that first recognize he was mentally ill. When he was twenty-three or twenty-four, he went to his little brother’s grave -a toddler who had been hit by a truck. At his baby brother’s grave, he killed himself with a shotgun.

As I mentioned before, my grandmother was probably anorexic before the term was common.

My mother writes in her diary:

Entry one:
Today is my nineteenth birthday. I am on a grape diet 18th day. Mama is still on her grape diet. She is really weak. Last night she was really sick. My sisters are here with us. Tonight she is feeling better, so I was able to go on a date, but I came home early because Mama wasn’t feeling well.

The next day:
I went to work and after work came home. Mama is still weak but feeling better. I talked with some friends for a while, and then I went in the house. I went to kiss Mama goodnight and she kissed me 18 times and then said, “You’re 19 aren’t you?” and then kissed me once more and said, “how time flies.”

The next day:
I have a date with John tonight. He will get me at 8:30 after work. My sister called to tell me to come home instead of going out so I did. Mama is really sick. She went out in her bathing suit to get some sunshine all day and she has been drinking lemon water. When I got home Mama was covered with blankets to get her warm. We worked with her all night long, rubbing her hands, head, and feet, but that next morning she left us.

The next day:
They came and took her to the mortuary, leaving a feeling there that is impossible to shake. People brought gifts and we had a lot of company. It’s hard to think straight. I broke my diet and yet I am not hungry. No one can stand to even look at grapes. We gave a lot of the grapes to people who cleaned our house for us. A friend brought us a crate of hand picked peaches. The feeling of shock and sorrow hangs heavy – a feeling that is indescribable.

The next day:
More company and John came down to see me. I told him I couldn’t see him anymore. He felt hurt but Daddy was glad.

The next day:
Day before the funeral and viewing.

The next day:
The funeral, it was a beautiful one with lots of flowers.

Two days later:
Life goes on, but much slower and harder. We can’t seem to adjust. The feeling is still there. Each day it gets worse because now we realize how much she meant to us and how much we miss her.

While in her early forties, my Grandma’s obsession with food had cost her her life. She left behind many young children. My mother was one of the older girls - and she was only nineteen when her beloved mother died.