My biological father struggled with depression when my mother married him, her parents tried to convince her not to tie the knot. Love won out and she was devoted to him even though he was unfaithful to her. I often wondered the toll that took on her and then for him to leave her with three children and one on the way. He checked himself into a mental hospital only to disappear the next day for thirty five years. I was only three and do remember missing him very much. I guess he was a good dad when he was home. Thirty five years later when he finally resurfaced I didn't want to see him. We moved out (or was evicted) of our house near Seattle, and went over the mountains to stay in my Grandma's basement until my little brother was born. (to be conti)
Eventually we moved out of my Grandma Joye's house in our own little duplex. I have memories of being very happy there. My best friend lived next door and her mother babysat us. I didn't even remember that my mother worked during that time, so it must not have been too bad. One year at Christmas all four of us children had the chicken pox! Can you imagine! I remember my mother pulling us in the wagon over to the neighbors to give them a Christmas present. My mother took in ironing for the neighbors to make extra money.I can see her carrying the baskets in the house. My best little friend next door also had a very annoying brother the same age as my brother. One day we were outside playing "Here comes the bride". I remember running inside crying because the boys sang "here comes the bride all fat and wide". We were devastated.