Nineteen sixty nine would become a turning point in my life, an unexpected reckoning that demanded that I become courageous and mature. I began the last year of the sixties as a ridiculously naive young bride who still felt uncertain about being an adult even as I posed as a confident woman. I was finally driving, but only on the quiet side streets of the city of Houston. I had yet to enter the freeways that were slowly but surely defining the growing city. I spent time taking classes at the University of Houston and caring for my new home with Mike. The two of us often visited our parents and when around them I mostly still felt like a child, especially under the confident eye of my mother-in-law, Mary. Nonetheless I struck a pose intended to hide my own anxieties about mapping out my future for more than one day at a time.
When I was alone with Mike I felt as though we were a powerful team, but at other times the world seemed so uncertain. I knew all too well how quickly hopes and dreams can change from my father’s death. I was often reticent to look too far in the future. The war in Vietnam was still raging. Young men who had attended Mt. Carmel High School when I was a student there had died. Others were actively fighting in the jungles of a faraway place. Still others had volunteered to serve in the Navy, the Air Force, the Army, the Marines. The draft hovered over the heads of virtually every young man of a certain age. There were no guarantees that life would go according to a predetermined plan.
The summer of nineteen sixty nine was one of great excitement in Houston, Texas. The final plans for a manned journey to the moon were underway. The dreams of travel to the moon that had so enchanted my brother, Michael, were soon to become a reality. The enthusiastic predictions of my science teacher, Mrs. Colby, were finally taking place. The whole city was abuzz with anticipation and Mike had become a part of the preparations through his Uncle Bob. That summer there was much electric work to be done at NASA and Fisk Electric Company was heavily involved. Uncle Bob had brought Mike into the process as an electrician’s helper. In that capacity Mike spent hours each week crawling under the floor of Mission Control pulling cables to supply electricity to the massive computers and screens that would communicate with the astronauts on their historic journey.
The workload was enormous and Mike sometimes labored into the early morning hours. Other times he came home to sleep for a few hours and then quickly returned to NASA. His Uncle Bob who lived in the Heights neighborhood of Houston picked Mike up for each of their shifts. That left me with the car and lots of time alone, so I often went to visit my mother who was struggling a bit over the disappointment of not being asked to return to her job as a teacher at Eliot Elementary for the next school year. While her time there had initially been fantastic, the spring semester had been particularly difficult when a new very troubled student had come to her classroom. Additionally, she was still indecisive about the man that she had been dating and his tendencies to demean and dominate her. Her usual optimism was missing.
Mike was making very good money that summer so my usual worries about adhering to a budget and saving money had dissipated. I attempted to cheer up my mother by taking her to the annual Gulfgate Mall moonlight madness sale where we searched for great bargains amongst throngs of people who came from all over the city for the annual extravaganza. It was a glorious setting for female bonding and Mama was usually the life of the occasion, but in 1969, she was obviously feeling distracted. The same thing occurred when we went to see movies. Nothing seemed to bring her joy, which was so uncharacteristic. Not even the historic walk on the moon seemed to lighten her spirits, but I assumed her dark mood was just a passing thing.
By August, my mother had taken to her bed. She pulled the curtains and blinds tightly closed and lay in the dark in stifling heat. She was afraid to open the windows to let air into the house but also refused to turn on the one air conditioner that hung in the living room window. Her eyes darted in fear as she attempted to explain that unknown forces were attempting to accuse her of heinous crimes. She warned me to be very careful because our family was being watched. I had never before seen or heard her like this and I became quite worried. Eventually I managed to convince her to let me take her to see Dr. Jorns.
We went to the doctor’s clinic without an appointment. He had been our family doctor for years and I had worked for him in the summer. I knew that he would see my mother even though we did not have an appointment. As we waited for what seemed forever my mother began to look weaker and weaker. She was a shell of herself with trembling hands, sallow cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. Even Dr. Jorns was surprised when he saw her. He gently attempted to ease the fears that she described to him and then gave her a prescription for medication designed to calm her frayed nerves.
Somehow I thought that visit would perform a miracle and that the medication would return my mother to her normal state. Over the ensuing days her paranoia only increased and not even visits from her brothers and sisters soothed her mind. It felt as though we were losing her hour by hour. I would eventually have to shed my youth and become the rock for our family that my mother had always been. The years of caring for a family alone had taken their toll. She needed help and I would have to be the one to find it for her. Like the young men my age becoming men in war, I too had battles to fight and it was time to gird my loins and say goodbye to being a little girl.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 