Catching Idle Butterflies

Tom

Reading Solitary Man ’s blog and his last entries describing his life along with chalaedra’s entry "Invalid Entry" , they have made me travel back to my own formative years, my experiences and the people in my life at the time, and how they were instrumental in me becoming the person I am today.

I can’t claim to have endured anything remotely similar to what and went through. Compared to their pasts, mine was idyllic. I have many people to thank for that, not the least of whom was my step dad, Tom.

After receiving a phone call from him today I thought of all he did for my mom, my sister and I and how lucky we all are to have him in our lives.

After my parents divorced when I was four and my sister was six, my dad originally had custody of us . Four years later, my mom retained custody of us (a story for another entry).

Within those four years, Mom met up with Tom and was living with him when she picked us up from our Dad’s. Instead of forcing Tom to suddenly deal with two girls of eight and ten, she moved out and rented a trailer in a trailer park.

We did, however get to know Tom, and he us. Not having any children of his own, and never wanting any, he nonetheless seemed to enjoy our company, was always kind, generous and understanding. Margaret and I both loved him from the start. We didn’t stay in that trailer long when all three of us moved in with him. I guess he figured since we were already spending so much time together, what was the point of paying rent on two homes?

Even so, at least as far as I know, marriage had not been discussed. Mom then finished her last year of college in poultry science and got a job working for Land Of Lakes in Minnesota. We moved that summer. Mom’s job was to travel in a three-state area visiting turkey farms and discover whatever ailments the turkeys suffered from and give the farmers the necessary drugs. That meant Mom wasn’t home much, and the consequences of her absence were beginning to surface.

Margaret and I started hanging out with people who encouraged behavior not appropriate for a nine and eleven year old. It was then I smoked my first cigarettes, drank beer and other hard alcohols. Mom saw this and other things, and knew something had to be done. I think her fears were well founded. Looking back on it, had things not changed, I know for certain, at least for me, I would have ended up taking drugs, possibly even ending up pregnant before high school. Mom even began to fear at this point she was becoming an alcoholic. This was a miserable time for all of us, except when Tom came to visit that Christmas. We missed him terribly and hated seeing him leave three days later. Part of me wanted to stowaway in his suitcase the day he left.

A few months later, Mom sat us down and asked, “How would you feel if I asked Tom to marry me?”

All I thought of at that moment was being back in Colorado, seeing all my friends again, and most of all, being with Tom. Seeing the joy on my sister’s face told me her thoughts were the same. We both said, “Call him NOW!” and almost threw the phone at her.

She came back out maybe a half an hour later (forever to Margaret and I as we eagerly and anxiously awaited his answer), and with a grin she said, “He said yes.”

One month later, the day after school ended, we were home. Tom even bought a bigger house so Margaret and I each had our own room. I had never had my own room before, and I was simply thrilled. That September, Mom and Tom went to Reno to get married. Margaret and I didn’t get to go, because school had reconvened.

Two years later, Tom adopted Margaret and I. I asked my mom years later whose idea it was, but she didn’t remember. Not that it matters, I was only curious.

As an aside, two years ago, Mom, Margaret and I went out to lunch and Mom told us this story:

For whatever reason, Mom felt the need to thank Tom for not only taking in her two young daughters, but adopting them four years later.

Tom began to cry and said, “I love your daughters.” Tom’s not one to cry. I had only seen him cry once, and that was during his mother’s funeral.

Margaret and I did our best not to cry ourselves after Mom told us that. We were in a public place after all. We always loved him, but for him to express the same and with tears, wow, even now I’m a bit choked up.

I can’t say our lives were perfect after they married. Better, yes, but far from perfect.

Four years into their marriage, they almost divorced. It terrified and infuriated Margaret because she remembered all too well Mom’s first divorce. Having subconsciously thought herself responsible for our Mom and Dad splitting up, Margaret couldn’t go through another one. My reaction was different, but then again, I knew things she didn’t. Instead of repeating all that happened, read "Invalid Item" .

That episode, oddly enough, strengthened their marriage and their love for each other. I love watching how Tom dotes over my mother today. He loves her dearly and if not for him, I wouldn’t have had those traits to look for in my own husband. To see him smile and way his eyes light up when he spends time with Margaret and I fills my heart with joy.

In spite of the hardships we all faced, no one could have asked for a better husband for my mom, or a better father than Margaret and I had and still have in Tom.