Just doin' a little writing and listening to oldies like Patsy Cline, Jim Reeves and Teddy Pendergrass. What a combination.
After I left my brothers house I moved back home with my parents after begging my mom to let me come home. I begged her to talk with my dad to let me come home.
It could not be worse than what I was going through at my brothers house. At least I would not have to worry about being raped.
They let me come home, by this time they were living at the house my oldest sister and her husband had bought for them.
It was an older home, but it was built sound.
Other than the occasional argument between my father and me it was quiet. He was going senile from hardening of the arteries. At the time, being as young as I was, I did not understand what was wrong with him. He would say really mean things to me just under his breath, so my mother would not hear him, just me reacting. This went on for three months when I decided to run away to my boyfriends house in another town. I hitched hiked.
I had met Brad when we lived in Onaway. His family had moved to Jackson and we moved to my sisters cabin. This was about a year before, he and I would stay in contact by phone and letters. Brad had gotten into trouble with the law and was sent to a reformatory.
By the time, I moved to Howell he was out of the Juvenal Hall.
We started having sex when I just turned fifteen and he was seventeen. Of course I got pregnant the very first time. I knew immediately I was pregnant. That was in January 1971 the baby was born in Oct. 1971 I gave her up for adoption. I wanted her to have everything I did not get when I was a child; love, security, money. My parents and my sister and I lived on WWI pension and social security, about $350 to $400 a month. That's why I started working when I was 12 years old.
I knew at fifteen I could not provide for her. I babysat my whole pregnancy to buy her the things I wanted for her. Then I decided I could not give her everything she would need. My mother had wanted me to have an abortion, but I just could not do that to my unborn child. Then she wanted me to give her to my brother and his wife. Hell no, I'd be dead first before that would happen, so I went through an adoption agency, Catholic Social Services. I figured they would find her a good home, later on (24 years later) I found out that was not true. She suffered from an abusive mother; No love, no medical, poverty and verbal abuse.
So when is enough, enough?
After I left my brothers house I moved back home with my parents after begging my mom to let me come home. I begged her to talk with my dad to let me come home.
It could not be worse than what I was going through at my brothers house. At least I would not have to worry about being raped.
They let me come home, by this time they were living at the house my oldest sister and her husband had bought for them.
It was an older home, but it was built sound.
Other than the occasional argument between my father and me it was quiet. He was going senile from hardening of the arteries. At the time, being as young as I was, I did not understand what was wrong with him. He would say really mean things to me just under his breath, so my mother would not hear him, just me reacting. This went on for three months when I decided to run away to my boyfriends house in another town. I hitched hiked.
I had met Brad when we lived in Onaway. His family had moved to Jackson and we moved to my sisters cabin. This was about a year before, he and I would stay in contact by phone and letters. Brad had gotten into trouble with the law and was sent to a reformatory.
By the time, I moved to Howell he was out of the Juvenal Hall.
We started having sex when I just turned fifteen and he was seventeen. Of course I got pregnant the very first time. I knew immediately I was pregnant. That was in January 1971 the baby was born in Oct. 1971 I gave her up for adoption. I wanted her to have everything I did not get when I was a child; love, security, money. My parents and my sister and I lived on WWI pension and social security, about $350 to $400 a month. That's why I started working when I was 12 years old.
I knew at fifteen I could not provide for her. I babysat my whole pregnancy to buy her the things I wanted for her. Then I decided I could not give her everything she would need. My mother had wanted me to have an abortion, but I just could not do that to my unborn child. Then she wanted me to give her to my brother and his wife. Hell no, I'd be dead first before that would happen, so I went through an adoption agency, Catholic Social Services. I figured they would find her a good home, later on (24 years later) I found out that was not true. She suffered from an abusive mother; No love, no medical, poverty and verbal abuse.
So when is enough, enough?
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