Moving Out and Moving On

I was called out of class and went to the counseling office. I was introduced to 2 individuals from the Division of Family Services or DCFS as it is called today in Utah. I didn't know what people like this did but had a high level understanding that they could "take kids out of unsafe homes" . They explained to me what their roles were and started to ask me questions about the interactions I had with my step dad. I did my best to describe everything but quickly found out that there was, at that time, a 4 year statute of limitations for those types of offenses. My step dad had not done anything criminal in the past 4 years, just creepy. There were several interviews over a few days and it was determined that while there was nothing criminal to prosecute, there was plenty to take action on from a protective services perspective. They explained to me their process; they would meet with my mom and explain to her that I wouldn't be coming back to the house and that if my step dad stayed, they would go to court to get my sisters removed as well. They told me when they would be having the conversations and asked if there was somewhere I could go while they were being conducted. I made plans with friends and made sure I wasn't home.

I don't know how those conversations were conducted. My mom hasn't detailed them out to me. I have asked her over the years, but my mom isn't one to communicate about events in general, let alone the hard ones like this one. What I know is mostly from what the DCFS people told me which was that my mom didn't hesitate in agreeing to have my stepdad move out and that is what happened. He moved out and we moved on.

I was busy during my senior year. I had just met the young man that would become my husband and father to my 2 amazing boys and we were spending a lot of time together. I was a member of the Drill team and that kept me super busy also and I loved it so it gave me plenty to focus on. My mom was working 2 jobs trying to make ends meet and there was never enough. I worked weekends at the county nursing home where she also worked doing housekeeping early in the mornings which fit perfectly with my drill team schedule. A wonderful woman who ran the department would pick me up at the top of our lane at predawn hours so I had a ride to work. I'd sweep and mop the residents rooms and general assembly rooms and have a few opportunities to visit with the residents. I was able to gain insight into the work my mother did and just how specialized it was. It grew my admiration for her as I could see her giving so much love and compassion to all she worked with. She might not be a strong communicator, but she is a strong woman who has always served the people she was surrounded by. She lives in a small body but gives like a giant.

It's hard for me to imagine what it felt like for my younger sisters. I was never home and very unaware of what it looked like and what it felt like for them. I imagine it was fairly normalized as dad was gone a lot during the years before he was moved out, but I also imagine the stress of being 100% financially and emotionally responsible took a toll on mom and her ability to function with and for them. Mom had always required our home to be tidy and clean. We had a basic routine that was expected and executed and created some sense of calm in our chaotic house. Once dad was gone, everything changed in that regard and my assessment of it is that with all that was going on in my mother's life, keeping the house organized was at the bottom of the list. I also believe my mother's addiction to prescription medication continued and impacted her ability to function and it showed in our home. The house became cluttered with dirty clothes, dirty dishes and all the comings and goings of 5 women with no one setting the boundaries and rules. It must have been very destabilizing for them. While I was almost grown, my sisters were not and my heart hurts for what was becoming their new reality.

With my mother's 2 jobs, we still didn't have enough to keep the essentials in our home. We worried about having enough gas for the car which was my grandfather's 1963, 3 on the tree, baby blue, Toyota Land Cruiser. The starter was going out so it made a loud grinding noise most times we tried to start it. It had no radio but it was a steel box that got us from point A to point B. I was grateful for it and the peace that came from dad being gone so what ever hardship we were experiencing was better than the alternative to me.

I became very independent and when I turned 18 on January 1st, I assumed I was an adult in all sense of the word. At some point my mother explained to me that I still needed to tell her what I was doing and where I was going. It hadn't occurred to me that she was still "raising" me. It makes me laugh at myself as I look back. I thought I was so grown! In my own defense, I knew she had her hands full taking care of my sisters and was trying to do my share by taking care of myself and helping her with them. On that Christmas, mom had explained to me that she was only able to buy a few items for the girls for Christmas. A few coloring books and crayons and trinkets like that. She was working Christmas eve, so I would be responsible for the Santa duties. I informed my boyfriend that I would be getting no Santa gifts and hoped he wouldn't be too judgmental of our situation. When he came to pick me up Christmas day to take me to his home for a celebration he asked what I got for Christmas. I reminded him that I had told him I wasn't getting any gifts and he said he didn't think it meant absolutely NO gifts, he assumed it meant nothing "large". I told him that it meant no gifts and he told me he was sorry and presented me with the beautiful leather jacket he had gotten me. I don't remember what small gifts I had purchased him with my limited money, but I felt embarrassed and proud at the same time. I was embarrassed that our family was in the situation we were in but also proud of myself for being emotional strong enough to handle all that was happening. In my mind, it was worth the price for the peace I felt we had. Looking back, I'm not sure everyone saw it the same way. I imaging it was hard for my mom and young sisters to go through. I carried guilt also because I knew it was my fault dad was gone but I also worried that at some point, he might start to assault them and the thought of that horrified me. In the final tally, I've always felt it was safer for all of us with him gone, not matter the difficulty we experienced. I hope they feel the same way.

My relationship with my boyfriend continued. He was 1 year older than me, the same age as my brother, and he had just moved to Logan attending Utah State University. He came from a good family and they ran a family ranch and farm. I felt like I was the luckiest girl on the planet and was very excited when he proposed to me during a Drill Team competition in March of my senior year in a hot tub in Boise Idaho. But there was a dark secret I felt like I had to tell him before I could say yes. He needed to know about "my" dark past. So I explained to him what had happened with my step dad and cried because I wasn't sure if this would change how he saw me. Would he think I was dirty? Would he think I wasn't worthy of him? Did this make me damaged goods? He assured me we would be fine and I said yes. We were getting married and I was so excited! I didn't feel worthy of him or his family, but I was determined to fix all the broken parts of me so that one day I could be worthy of his love. The following week we went to the jewelry store and picked out rings and drove to his mother's birthday celebration where we surprised everyone there with our engagement. His mother cried and I was heartbroken by her reaction, but not entirely surprised. After all, I didn't feel worthy of them anyway. I didn't really expect them to be happy about me. His oldest brother hugged me and told me not to take his mom's response seriously and she later told me it was because it was her youngest and she had just asked him how serious we were and he had told her that we were not serious, so it was more about the surprise than it was about her concern with me. I didn't believe her at all. Not because she wasn't a wonderful person who I would grow to love like a mother, but because I was sure about my unworthiness.

So by April of my senior year in high school my attention shifted from being a "high school girl" to being a soon to be "married woman". I was excited to start my new life! I wanted to start a family immediately and started to daydream about the life that we would build. We set our wedding date for June 26th and started all the planning. I joke that I was addressing my graduation announcements and wedding invitations together. It seemed normal to me at the time and I thought I was lucky to have found my life partner so early in life. Since money was a major issue, it became a stressor for my mom, but she kept telling me not to worry, that we would find a way. My fiancé's family said they would help with some of the costs and I worked to create the wedding that I felt we could manage.

During our dating period, I was clueless of all the steps you should be taking to determine if you were picking the person that would be your best life partner. All I knew was that I loved him and he loved me and we would live happily ever after because we had found each other and that was the hard part, right? The first night we were together, we drove around in his Z28 Camaro and talked for hours. I'd never experienced that before and was immediately smitten. He was handsome, he came from a great family, he had life goals and seemed to be a great all American boy. It seemed too good to be true but I was going to hold on with both hands and hope for the fairy tale ending!

While we were in the depths of planning, my mom asked my step dad for money to help with the wedding. He complained about it and said he didn't think he should have to pay for it since he wasn't in the house. He also got angry when he was informed that my bio dad had been invited. My mom told me I should let my bio dad know I was getting married. I called him and let him know. It wasn't important to me, but I figured it was the "right thing to do". It made me a little nervous but I put it out of my head. I was not surprised at all that my step dad found a reason to be angry. It was a typical response to anything my mother did, let alone it was about my future plans. I rarely spoke to him and avoided him at all costs now. It did make me angry that he was not going to help because I knew that it would put more stress on my mom and I didn't want that for her. A few days earlier we had met with the wedding venue that was also going to print our wedding invitations. They had presented a few options for us and also reviewed the wording that we would have on them. It was customary to list the names of the parents of the bride along with the names of the parents of the groom. My mother had instructed that my parent's should be listed as Mr. and Mrs. My Step Dad's Name. I didn't love it, but didn't have any alternative suggestion either and since she was paying for it, I felt it was better to go along with her request. It was also how my fiancé was doing his parent's names. When my step father threw a fit about the money, I went to the wedding venue and changed the announcement to read Mrs. insert my mother's name announces the wedding of her daughter...and took him out entirely. Since I had no relationship with my bio dad, he wasn't even a consideration. I told me mother after the fact and she was furious with me. I don't regret doing it still to this day, but I have always hated that I upset her. I didn't want to cause her pain in anyway, but I couldn't keep his name on my life that way. It was the beginning of me trying to figure out how to set new boundaries in my own life.

There was one more decision to be made in the "father of the bride" realm - who was going to walk me down the isle? It was an easy choice, my grandfather. He was the man who had truly loved me and although he was starting to have some age related health issues, I knew he was my only choice and was more than grateful when he said yes.

A few weeks before the wedding, I found out I was pregnant. I was excited to be pregnant, as I was ready to start our family, but I was worried that people would think we "had to get married". We told a few of our close family and friends and held onto the news for the general public until after the wedding.

I graduated High School and finalized all the wedding preparations. I was nervous, but excited and had a little secret growing inside me, my first child. My new life was starting, along with the new life we would bring into the world. I was hopeful and fearful. I was ready and ill prepared. I felt loved and felt alone.

The wedding day came. There was a small room at the top of the stairs at the wedding venue where the bride got ready. One by one the bridal party left the room as they got ready to walk down the isle before me. There were a few seconds when I was alone in the room. As I stood in the room ready to take that big step, a few thoughts ran through my mind "what if I run?" "I don't know what I am doing" "what if it's not right?". I took a deep breathe and quickly pushed all the negative thoughts away. I was in love. I was pregnant. I was ready!

Step by step, I descended the stairs to my grandfather who was waiting at the bottom of the stair case. I took his arm and as we proceeded down the isle he whispered "I wish your grandmother was here to see you" and my heart skipped a beat. I missed her so much and also wished she had been there to celebrate this part of my journey. I looked up and looked at my soon to be husband and said a little prayer that I would have the strength to make her proud.