The Unforgettables: The Gardener and His Wife

3. LOVE ON THE ROCKS

In the mid-1980s I was a student at Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic School in La Habra, California.  My family had a student in six of the eight grades offered: I was in first grade, Monica in second, Ben in third, #4 was in fifth, Tom in sixth, and Liz in eighth.  My oldest sister Georgie was a Freshman in high school not far away.  We were a well-known family by students and staff because of our large family size.   It was around this time that I realized my family was different from others.

I guess it shouldn't be a surprise.  At the time, I did not understand it was abnormal behavior because it was all I knew.  I can remember thinking at times it was even funny and fun.  Mom would have a drink sometimes but never heavy and I never saw her drunk.  It was nice to see my parents laughing and having a good time with friends.  The parents we knew were often mad, stressed, and yelling.  

When Mom and Dad were drinking and having a good time, we (my siblings and I) were also having a good time.  We played many games like Hide and Seek, Marco Polo, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or whatever other games we could come up with.  Back in my childhood days, kids played outside until Mom yelled for us to come home.  When she did, you better be within shouting distance and you had minutes to return home.  In those days, kids were punished by staying indoors, in their rooms.  However, today many kids prefer to be alone in their rooms, all day and all night.  

At one point, Dad's drinking got worse and we had a family intervention.  I was very young and only knew we were together to tell Dad to stop drinking because we love him.  I can remember him holding me while I cried for him to stop.  Every day after that I would ask Mom if he was still drinking beer, for I was very worried about him and his problem.

Dad was self-employed as a roofer.  It looked like hard work in the hot summer sun or cold and rainy winters.  I could always tell when Dad was working and getting paid.  Mom would buy us my favorite food for dinner, Round Table Pizza.  She would also go to the supermarket and fill up two baskets with groceries.  The family station wagon would be loaded from front to back with food.  Sadly, I also knew when Dad wasn't working.  

As far back as I could remember, Dad would leave us for an extended period.  He would leave for work one day and not return.  He was out living his secret, double life.  He would leave and not return for days, weeks, and a few times— months.  Sometimes he would return to the house drunk.   Other times he would walk in like nothing happened at all.  We never knew where he was or who he was with when he was away.  I had heard sometimes he was in the hospital.  Other times he had gotten arrested.  We never knew when he would be home or how long he'd stay until he left again.  When he did return, Mom was always ready for a fight.

When I was young, I remember being very worried about my Dad when he was gone.  I never enjoyed his absences for I loved him and wanted him home with us.  Memories of asking Mom if Dad would be home for my birthday, holidays, or important events remain with me.  She could never give me a definite answer. 

At any time during the middle of the night, Dad would come stumbling through the front door.  We could hear Mom's heavy feet hitting the ground as she got out of bed and went stomping down the hallway to the living room.   It was going to be a long night for us all.  She made sure Dad knew he let us all down.  Mom was not shy about voicing her anger when Dad got home, to the point where the whole neighborhood probably knew he let us all down.   For me and my brothers and sisters, it was torture.  They would be up yelling and fighting for hours.  All we could do was lie in bed, in silence, praying it didn't get violent.  Every time it got quiet, we were hoping it was finally over.  This was our childhood.

Mom could never accept that Dad would never change.  Therefore, Dad would constantly leave and Mom would constantly fight with him.  Dad's drinking got worse and worse.  His vacations were longer and longer until he eventually lost his business.  With seven kids, no job, no money, and mounting bills to pay, we were in trouble.  Dad eventually got a job roofing for someone else until he got hurt on the job.  Now he was out of work again and home all the time.  When Dad wasn't drinking or missing, he was home— angry and violent.  He lay on the couch and watched TV all day and night.  He would yell and throw things such as remote controls, dishes, glasses, and anything he had near him.