It had not been a month yet from the day I discovered that I was not whole. I was adjusting to the new “part” of me. Getting used to the idea that I could carry on a conversation with myself was interesting. Slowly I had accepted that I had memory repressed. It was a very emotional time for me. I felt the extreme sorrow for what innocence I thought I had. Now that illusion was shattered. I felt so angry at the hurt I had to endure. I hated and felt anger towards my enemy. I also had a myriad of emotions towards my family to deal with. The family I grew up in did not protect me from this perceived tragedy. The family I had created with marriage and childbirth was so demanding. I wanted to crawl into a hole and not come out until I felt better. I loved my husband and children but I felt so shaken up and upset.
There were other things happening then that added to the general upset. My husband was employed by a company my father owned and operated. The family business was not going well. My husband had been working for months with receiving a pay check. Back then we were surviving on a small income well below the poverty level. I was not working and with three small mouths to feed money was important. We looked at the time he had worked without pay and estimated that the company owed us 5000$. This was in 1990 and it seemed like a lot of money. Things at work had grown increasingly tense. By the end of that week the company filed chapter 11 and we knew we would not ever be recompensed. Between the unhappiness at work and the disturbance at home with me, Jim could not find peace.
On a Wednesday he came home and announced that his job was terminated. In some ways it was a relief . He had been working hard without pay. Not only that but the politics and pressure in the workplace were taking a toll on both of us. Now he would need to look for another job and had already started that difficult task. There was pressure to pay bills. It seemed like another bad thing happening to us.
At that time in my spiritual outlook I believed that God loved me based my ability to live His commandments. I was not so sure I deserved His love or favor. I fearfully lived waiting for the next bad thing to come along. My childhood had been a soap opera full of “bad things”. The loss of the imagined security I thought I had with an employed husband was the next expected punishment from God.
I blew up after an argument with my husband and dramatically said I had to get away. I wanted to get out the city. I was hurting and felt out of control. I could not sort my thoughts and be real rational. I was going to get in the car and just drive. Without money or means to really go anywhere I told my husband I was going to the mountains. I did not plan on taking anyone with me. He could tell that I had flipped out and that he could not talk me out of going. He lovingly and firmly told me that he and the babies were all going with me.
He threw our small tent and a flashlight, our sleeping bags and some snacks into the back of our small car. Soon we were driving away from it all. Even though I had been angry at him and at the circumstances we faced, I was relieved to not be alone and crazy. I did not trust myself. I had never threatened to leave or had even really thought of it. This was not leaving but getting away. It was something as a mother of a baby and two toddlers I did not do.
I do not remember much about the details of the trip. It was early may in the middle of the week. We did not go to a formal campground. We just found a pretty place in mountains to set up a tent. The only tent we owned was a one man pup tent my husband had leftover from his scouting days. I slept with my youngest baby on my chest all night in the tent along with my eldest daughter who was 3. . Jim slept outside under the stars with our 2yr old son on his chest. We woke early before the sun came up with a light dusting of snow. It was too cold to get and leave but also too cold to stay and sleep more. Just like in out real lives we had to move.
By morning we had packed up and driven home to our warm safe house. It was like we had passed some sort of test. I had lost my mind and headed off who know where in a moment of rage. He had carefully insisted on going with me. There was no time to make responsible arrangements. We had both done the best we could under the circumstances. It had been risky and foolish, but we survived and remembered it as a good time. The extreme of emotion mixed with the spontaneous excursion together with the cold, the hunger and heights of the mountain made it something to remember. Now that I am past feeling guilty for doing it I can remember my husbands protection and care with fondness.
