Ok, I may be repeating myself a little at the beginning of "The Next Five Years", but bear with me as I do not remember exactly where I left off on the previous page. The next five years, where do I begin. I guess at where they begin, right?
After graduation, I moved to Cleveland, Ohio with my sister, Julie, whom I hadn't seen in many years. Julie is the oldest sister of the seven of us. She got to stay with mom when we were all taken away. She moved to Cleveland with mom, married Eddy, and throughout the years she had three great kids of her own. That is jumping way ahead though. When I moved to Cleveland with her, she had one daughter, Peggy Sue. Peggy was a tiny thing, and as cute as a button. I shared her bedroom with her, she had a huge bed. I hadn't been to Cleveland long, when my boyfriend that I had "sorta" split with came for a visit. It was a total surprise. I guess my aunt Violet, which lives in Southern Ohio, told him how to get to Julie's house. I hadn't told Roger that I was going up North, as it was to be only for a couple weeks, originally. I had told Rog a few days before I left, that I felt things were going too fast for me, and I wouldn't be seeing him for a while, I needed to sort things out, therefore, I didn't tell him I was leaving. Anyway, Roger called Julie, told her it was a surprise, he would be in Cleveland that evening. Julie had her brother-in-law ask me out for that evening, so I would be ready when Roger came. To make a long story short. Roger showed up , I was totally surprised, we went out that evening and took Julie with us. He spent the night, and the next day I took him to good old Lake Erie. We sat and discussed our relationship. It was broke off that day, by my choice. I think about it from time to time, and wonder what my life would have been had I stayed with him. Water under the bridge, right? I wish him well in life, he was a good guy.
Julie and Eddy was renting a house on Sackett when I came to Cleveland. I ended up deciding to stay in Cleveland. I have remained in the area ever since. I miss home, I miss it badly, but my kids and grandchildren keep me up North. Wouldn't leave them for the world. I dated a few guys after moving to Cleveland. They were all actually quite nice men. I always was the one to break it off with them. For some reason, I believe I was afraid of committment. Maybe something to do with my past? I don't know. But I hurt a few men, and to this day feel bad about it. One man in particular was a policeman I met when walking to Julies from her in-laws house. They lived close, so I walked it often. The cop, won't use his name, was a great guy, and totally good looking. When I was walking down the street, not far from home, he stopped and told me I shouldn't be walking alone in that area that someone could offer me a ride and then rape or kill me. I told him I didn't have far to go, and I would be alright. He offered me a ride, and I laughed at him, thinking how ironic that he should be concerned about someone picking me up, when he was trying to do the same thing. He wasn't in uniform, so I didn't know he was a cop. Anyway, I wouldn't take the ride, so he said he would just follow me slow so I would make it home safe. When I got to Julie's street, I told him that if he didn't quit following me I was calling the police. He told me he was a cop, to which I laughed. I got to the house, and he said for me to have a good day, that he did his good deed for the day. Julie saw me talking to him, and invited him for a visit. I could have killed her, but as it turned out, he was a cop, and we began dating. He was such a nice man, and as I said before so darned good looking. One night he took me to Lake Erie, parked, saying he needed to talk to me about something. He told me he loved me, I told him he shouldn't have said that, that it would totally change things. You see, Roger, whom I mentioned before, had told me he loved me too, which is why I told him I needed time to myself to think. I quit seeing the cop. He would call daily begging mom to get me to talk to him. I wouldn't because I was totally confused, and really needed to think. I really cared for him, and knew it, but I couldn't accept that he loved me. One night, I decided I needed to make a decision about him, and told mom I was going to go have a couple drinks at a family bar close by, where we knew the owner quite well. He always kept an eye on me. While there, the cop called mom's house again, and she told him where I was. He walked in the door, sat at my table, and I asked him to please leave. He wouldn't, saying he needed to talk, then he would leave me alone, if that was what I wanted. The owner came over to run him off, and I said it was ok. So, we talked. I won't go into the conversation, to this day it still is personal, and hurts. But I did tell him it was over. He left, with tears, and I bawled like a baby. The owner took me home, because I was too torn up to go alone. A couple weeks later, I realized I honestly loved him, and went to the bar the cops went to after work for a few drinks. I had been there several times with him. I asked the barmaid if he had been in, and she asked what I had done to him, he was all broken up, and had requested to be transferred to another precinct. I explained to her the situation, she said if he ever stopped in, she would let him know. I called the station that he originally worked, and asked the captain to please let me know where he transferred to, but he wouldn't tell me. He said it was for the protection of an officer, because for all he knew I could be someone that he had previously arrested that was out for revenge. Needless to say, I never saw him again.
It took me a while to get over it. While trying to get over it, I met a nice guy named Roger. (different than the one I spoke of earlier). He was probably too nice. We dated a couple months, then I dumped him. I was beginning to think I could never make a committment. Roger was in his early 20's. Not great looking, sorta plain, but not really ugly either. He was a really wealthy guy. Owned a home, yacht, motorcycle, truck, car, you name it, he owned it. One day we were window shopping after a Sunday dinner at his mother's home. He stopped at a jewelry store window and asked if I could have anything in that window, what would it be. Playing the game, I pointed to an enormously expensive ring. Diamonds everywhere. About a week later, he presented that ring to me, as an early birthday gift. I wouldn't accept it. I told him it was too expensive to accept as a gift, as there was no serious relationship between us. He said it was only money, and there were no strings attached. I didn't take it, and you guessed it, I quit seeing him. He would call the house, and I wouldn't talk to him. Finally one evening, he went to the bar where mom was a bar maid from time to time to help the owner out, and asked mom to give it to me. Mom told him that she wasn't going to get between this, but he begged her to try and get me to accept it. So mom took it, had it for a couple days, until he stopped in again. She gave it to him, and told him he was a really nice guy, and needed to find someone that would appreciate him. Well, he finally quit calling and coming around. I always felt bad about that one too, but even after the break up, never felt any love for him. I cared for him, but that wasn't enough. Are you crying for these really great guys that I crapped on yet? I am not proud of this part of my life, I obviously had problems, just didn't know what they were. Still don't. Don't get me wrong, I was not a bad person. I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone. I just couldn't quit hurting anyone that got serious about me. Guess the only way to do that would have been to not date anyone. That would have been a horribly lonely life, though, wouldn't it? Guess this problem I was having in committing to a relationship, was the reason I nearly didn't marry my husband that I am about to tell you about. But I did. Should I have? Probably not, but I had to give in to a relationship sometime. I do not regret the decision to marry though, as you will read.
Julie bought a home over off Lorain Avenue close to Eddy's parents, Cliff and Lonis. Eddy has a sister, Jeannie, whom I hung out with until I married. I would walk to Jeannies, and sometimes she would walk to Julies. Well, part of my future lived across the street from Jeannie. Jim Clark. He may not like my using his name here, but he was a part of my life I am writing about, so here he will remain. Jeannie had a crush on him, so we would go over to his house, sit on the porch and talk to him and his brother. Jim asked me out, and I refused at first, because I knew Jeannie had a thing for him. Jeannie told me several times that it was ok, so I accepted a date with him and she accepted on with his brother. To make a long story short, I married Jim, Jeannie and Jim's brother didn't work out. I didn't want to marry him at first, but he kept asking, and Julie told me he was a good guy, and I couldn't go wrong. Basically he was a good guy, a good provider, but a year into the marriage, he started a change that I didn't want to live with. He became "too good" for my family. At first, we went a lot of places with Julie and Eddy, then he began making excuses to not be with them. He got too big for himself, with his "high class" friends at work. He wanted us to spend all of our time with them. He even got to the point that when it was time to come home from work, he would call first and ask if my mother was there, and if she was, he would go have a few drinks with work buddies. After time, two years to be exact, I got tired of it. One day when it was time for him to come home from work, mom was visiting, and said she would be going. I told her she didn't have to leave so soon, but she did. I knew it was because she had figured out what was going on. I was totally upset. When Jim came home that day, I didn't have dinner fixed and was sitting at the breakfast nook. He sat down, because I asked him to, and I told him I wanted a divorce. He thought I was kidding. I told him all that bothered me, and he was indifferent to it, so I went through with it. I let him have our house, both cars, etc.... I knew I hadn't paid any for them, and didn't feel right taking them.
At first, he had his visitations with my daughter. We had a beautiful little blonde haired, blue eyed daughter together. She was so angelic, so darned good, yet he hurt her. Once he met his "new wife to be", he quit seeing my daughter. I would call and beg him to see her, but he didn't. His new woman didn't like him seeing her. She got over him in the years to come, but never totally, even to this day.
When we divorced, I was pregnant, but didn't know it at the time. I carried that baby for six months, then lost him. For years I didn't ask my mother about him, because I was afraid of what I would hear. You see, one day I ran out to Eddy's car to tell him what to pick up at the store, and fell under the side of his car. After that, the doctor had trouble picking up a heart beat. The doctor said the baby was most likely dead, but he couldn't tell for certain. However, If I kept carrying the baby, and it was dead, it would hurt me. I went to the hospital, my mother at my side, and let them put in saline thru a needle in my stomach. This made labor start. The doctor said if the baby was already dead, it would appear a normal pink color at birth, however, if it was alive when the saline was administered, it would be born bluish in color, because of lack of oxygen after the saline. I didn't look, didn't want to know. Finally about a year ago, I asked mom about the baby. She said he was already dead before the saline, because he was pink, and that it was a boy, and the doctor said he felt the baby died because of the fall. The doctor said he had hemophilia, and he believes that is why he died after my fall. To get on with the story, not long after I lost the baby, I met my future husband.
The next years with him are told on the next page of this "autobiographical" story. That is what this is, right? An autobiography.
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