How I met my sweetie - part I

This is such a long story that I need to break it up into manageable pieces. This is part one...

Soon after my divorce was final in January 1983, I was laid off from my job at Western Union. I was devastated and barely able to support my children. I received no child support from my ex-husband (he wouldn’t keep a job) and was trying to live on the “barely more than” minimum wage job I found – which was better than the $103 weekly I had been receiving on unemployment. I don’t remember the exact details, but I think I cleared around $700 per month. Rent took $190, child care took $180, I had attorney fees ($50), gas and parking (maybe $50-$60 per month), utilities, life insurance, car insurance, and incidentals took more than the rest. In fact, once I paid the required expenses – no frills, no extras – I had $25-$30 per MONTH to spend on groceries for three people. Granted, two of them were small children but I challenge anyone to feed three people on $25 per month, and eat more than eggs or soup, which is what we mostly ate. My parents fixed my car three times in one month because I just didn’t have the money to do so. I had no car payment and there was no way that I could have traded for a better car. It was make do with what I had (a lot of people don’t understand that concept these days; they think “making do” does not include giving up cigarettes, cell phones, Internet, lattes, eating out, or any other habit they may have) and say a lot of prayers.

Through the generosity of others, my children did have Christmas that year but it was truly by the grace of God that they did. I had put a few things in layaway for them but had come to the realization that I was going to have to cancel it and they would pretty much have nothing. I only owed $25 on the layaway, but I didn’t have that and it was due out. The day I was going to get my refund, I got a check in the mail from my third cousin (my grandmother’s first cousin but we called her “aunt”) and the amount was $25. Only God knew how much money I needed because I hadn’t said anything to Aunt Helen. In addition, my mom’s co-workers always adopted a family for the holidays and they approached her and asked if she would be offended if they chose my little family. Mom was relieved and said that it would be a blessing for us all – for them to have some relief and for me to have a stocked pantry. Because it was us – someone tangible they could put faces to – we probably received more items than they usually gave. Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus delivered the goodies to our door and my children were enthralled. Shaun was five and Amy was two; their faces just lit up with amazement. They got toys, badly needed clothes, and we got FOOD! Lots of food. My mom had suggested they buy non-perishable stuff for us so it would last longer and actually gave them a list of things the kids didn’t like, so we didn’t get 15 cans of lima beans or 10 cans of stewed tomatoes – things little kids normally don’t eat. We got a large ham that I was able to cut into several good sized chunks and a couple of chickens that I was also able to cut up into manageable serving sizes. I was blessed. To top it off, I even got a gift certificate for myself to buy a badly needed pair of slacks for work. And, panty hose! I hadn’t been able to afford hose for months. And coffee! I’d had to give up my coffee months earlier and only had it when someone blessed me with it.

During the course of year, I dated a man who I knew did not want to marry me and who really only wanted one of my children – Amy. Shaun had issues, but who wouldn’t with the way he had been treated by not only his own father, but also by his father’s parents? They were a difficult bunch to deal with and it was harder and harder for me to send my children for visitation, knowing that my ex wouldn’t work or pay support, and anything provided to me by his parents had to be counted as child support (they took me grocery shopping one time – spent $50 and deducted it from my child support). They housed him, paid for the gasoline in his car, paid his car insurance, and fed him. He had to do nothing except pick up the kids every other weekend. My ex-MIL’s comment to me one time that “we take care of our own” really solidified that they did not accept their ONLY grandchildren, who just happened to be MY children, as part of “their” family. It was truly heartbreaking. Shaun was stood in the corner so long at their house one time that he picked the sheet rock off the wall, down to the stud, with his fingernail. Instead of realizing they’d left a then-four year old boy in the corner too long, they were angry that he’d defaced their wall.

Also during this time, I found out about a Western Union job that was up for bid in Wichita, KS (we were union workers). My former union representative had encouraged me to bid on the job, but I had just moved into low income housing (I had been on the waiting list for months and had to “buy” into the place, much like purchasing a brick-and-mortar piece of real estate), my car was unreliable, and I didn’t feel like I could really afford to pay for the move (since it was an out-of-district move, the company would not pay for it).

To be continued...