Saving Lives
Why It Is Hard To Let Go.
My twins were born in another country, in a rural hospital, out in the middle of the jungle in Costa Rica. The doctors had a lot of practice at delivering babies as it looked to me as half the town was pregnant.
My husband and I moved there a year earlier. He was a “Donald Trump” type of guy, but took it to the next level in that he did not want any government intervention. “Too much government in my business,” he would spout often. He didn’t have any money only the same attitude which was “Angry.”
He wanted to live somewhere where he felt he was more free to make his own decisions. He found it was not the case when we got there. That is another story which I have written about in the following:
This story is about why I feel I have to protect my boys.
We had no money. We had no livelihood to speak of. How we made it work is a miracle.
They were born in the hospital in that little town in the middle of nowhere. Two little innocent twin boys which were also a miracle as I was forty-four and they were a surprise. The first ever, white, blue-eyed blond boys to ever be born in that hospital. They were famous.
Beautiful little things weighing in at just over and just under five pounds. That day changed my life forever. I found my strength to say NO!
Before they were born my husband was always out carousing, partying, dancing in the street, with who knows who as if he had no worries in the world. Someone from the cantina where he was drinking, told him to go home and take care of his wife as she was very pregnant and he should be there. Even though, the situation was obvious, this person sent him home. He stopped drinking there and then, for a while. . .
When we got home from the hospital I knew these little beings needed us to help them thrive and that is what we did. I mainly helped them thrive. We got them on formula as I had no milk. My husband got a man who built furniture to build a crib. They both slept together in that crib because they were so small. We had to circle the crib with chalk to keep the ants from getting to them. We covered it with netting so the mosquito’s would not bite them. I slept in the room so I could hear them when they woke up for food and a change.
They probably slept together in one room in a large bed until they were in middle school. We had no choice most of the time.
Besides being twins I think that made them highly dependent on each other. When they were small they would climb out of their cribs which scared me so we made pallets on the floor and we all slept there. I slept with them so I would not have to get up and get out of bed so often to check on them. I didn’t want them to fall.
At the time, I didn’t sleep with my husband anyway. We slept in separate beds. Our marriage was over with by the time we returned from Costa Rica but stayed together because of the babies. We also could not survive without each other. There was too much work to do.
I was never thanked for getting us back to the U.S. I was never thanked or acknowledged for keeping us all alive and being a good mother. I was never acknowledged in any way so we lived like strangers, roommates, estranged, I really don’t know what you would call it.
I was always looking after them, caring for them, making sure they didn’t hurt themselves, feeding them, clothing them and keeping them safe. That was my job as a mother.
Their father on the other hand wallowed in self-pity which caused depression, anxiety and ultimately a mental disorder which was devastating. Costa Rica did not turn out the way he planned and we had to come back to the U.S. as we could not survive there without financial means. He just gave up. Then he started drinking again. That was his only lifeline.
The first year or two after we returned, we lived in hotels, motels, friend’s homes, a trailer, a cabin, an apartment, any where we could and moved twenty-seven times before we finally were able to settle down.
This was because he was in a severe auto accident with a friend of his. Thank God none of us were in the truck. When he returned he was beaten up and battered and he was never the same after that. We received a settlement from that that allowed us to buy a car, rent a house, and be people again, for a while.
He suffered from pain and had hallucinations from the medication that was prescribed. It was Oxycotin. Baaaaaaaaaad stuff! I did not know that at the time as he always had some kind of medication for his illnesses. He was always sick in one way or another. I could not keep track of all his medications.
When all of those changes occurred we had to change with them. When we lived in hotels, we had to arrange for beds to be put together so the boys could sleep comfortably and not fall off the bed. Each place was different. We would go out walking and exploring as they were getting big. They needed their own backyard. They had to be outside.
In the back of my mind I had the thought, “This is not me. This is not us. My babies are going to have better. I will get us out of this mess.” Food, clothing and shelter was the name of the game. Someday was not soon enough.
After losing everything again because there was no income living in the house we rented, we had no other choice but to go to a shelter.
A friend of ours helped a great deal with this and we lived there for another eighteen months. At least we all were safe and had food, clothing and shelter. Again we had to arrange beds so that the babies could sleep comfortably. Everyone was comfortable. They also had other kids to play with which was a good thing. They were vaccinated and were in preschool as well. I was taking computer classes and getting my life back to normal again. It took a while to get going after all the trauma but I did it.
I found a job at a company that needed database work. I worked there for awhile. We had a car but were still at the shelter. I saved some money, the shelter put up the deposit for us to move into an apartment, so we packed up and moved the same day.
Freedom and quiet. The shelter had lots of rules and regulations and had about sixty people living there, it was noisy a lot of the time. A lot of kids lived there so having a small apartment was heaven. The boys were so excited to have a huge place to roam and they had their own bedroom. We were so relieved to have some normalcy.
They found other kids to play with and they found a place along a creek that ran behind the apartment to play by themselves. It was cool. They showed me where and that is when I slipped and fell into the creek and twisted my ankle.
I couldn’t believe that happened. Thank goodness the boys were there to help me. I had to climb a huge wall to get out, then we walked the wrong way home with a painful ankle, as I am terrible at directions. If I don’t have a map I can’t find my way out of a wet paper bag.
They returned the favor and helped me. That was when I knew they were growing into responsible, sweet people.
My husband and I finally got a divorce. He was going to the VA for a few years for medication for pain, asthma, anxiety, depression brought on by homelessness and the accident that occurred a few years back.
I had no medication and just soldiered through everything that had occurred. He moved out to live with his cousin as he was getting disability from social security and because he was having hallucinations and putting our kids in danger.
The boys visited every two weeks or so which I hated but knew they needed to be with Dad. At least their aunt was there to entertain them to some degree.
A big disagreement occurred eventually and she decided to take it out on me so she called and blasted me for everything she could think of that was wrong with the boys. Then she hung up. That didn’t phase me any as she didn’t have any history with them. We never talked again.
Life goes on, then eventually, their Dad commits suicide with an overdose of morphine. The boys, of course, were very upset but it didn’t last long. They knew he was sick and just took it in stride. We had a small occasion of grief, they let balloons go, and after that we all were fine. He never had any insurance, but we got $1,000 extra a month in death benefits which was more than I ever got from him while he was alive.
You might think I am bitter. No, not bitter. Just relieved. He was a burden that I did not want to carry anymore. Now I really had to do it all on my own.
They were eleven. We were still living in that apartment that we moved into when they were five. I found a better job and was making some decent income so I decided that we needed a bigger place. We also had a big dog and she needed a yard.
We did, we found a place and it was perfect for all of us. They boys had their separate rooms, I had my own room, and we had a huge, fenced in backyard. I had a small vegetable garden with tomatoes and lettuce. The school bus pulled up right in front of the house each morning to take them to school down the street. I went to work. Life was good for about two years. Then they were sucked in by bad people.
They had their usual friends from grade school, but also met some other people from middle school. One in particular was the scourge of the neighborhood. We did not know that when we moved there of course. And to top it off there was a mall right down the street. What could happen!?
All of a sudden all hell broke out and I didn’t know what was coming as I always was in control of everything since their Dad died.
There is too much detail and too many incidences. All resulting in the police making many stops at my house delivering my boys or dealing with break-ins, at my house.
I was in shock with all this. I could not keep my kids safe anymore and they had to learn on their own which decisions were good for them and which were not. And they did. Thank you Jesus!
We moved away from there. It was too much for us all. We moved to a quiet neighborhood where no one knew us. The boys started babysitting for a set of twins and their brother, down the street. They were for the first time making their own money. We had survived. They never went the wrong way and never got with people who were not good for them. Thank you Jesus!
In August of 2014, we moved to Florida to be near their sister who is a bit older than them and their niece. They were having troubles and I thought if I moved there I could give my daughter a reprieve in someway with her troubles. My daughter found a place for us to live and we wound up renting it for three years.
The boys got a job at their favorite fast food restaurant. I took them back and forth to work each day which was fine as I was retired and not working. My cash out from the job I had for ten years ran out in January of 2015. My daughter moved in with us.
Along with the social security I was getting and her rent payment we made it work. The boys contributed when they could. We all had a place to live.
Since that time they have had cars they either bought or financed, credit cards and bank accounts, and one has a girl friend that comes to our house often. They have not been smart about money so now are in debt to their eyeballs.
The pandemic has messed up everything but since some restrictions are opening up, one has a job again and the other is on unemployment. Life goes on and we do what we can. They still live with me at twenty-five years of age as they never went to college and didn’t really have a good education. They at least are not getting into any trouble and don’t take drugs. Thank You Jesus!
People, friends, mostly, say “kick ’em out!” Where would they go and what would they do? This is a bad time for all of us. They will leave when they feel they are ready. If they don’t they will pay me to stay. Right now they buy food with what they make. They have an old car in disrepair and need to get it up and running so they can survive better. The one that has a job rides a bike to work, rain or shine. That takes some strength and will.
They take care of each other and I don’t think that is a bad thing!
Jo Ann Harris is an author, parent, book devotee, writer, copywriter, and film fanatic. She is an autodidact who learns about everything on her own. She grew up and worked in Atlanta, Georgia and lived there sixty years. She writes articles about love, hope, personal life stories, advice and poems. She is a published author with an article in Woman’s World magazine in October, 2017.