My Heroes - Part One - My Mother

 

Me with my Mother about 1980

At this time of my life (the end or my "Final Act") I have been doing a lot of reflection of my past eighty-one years of life. I've decided to write about those who have had a positive influence in my life. I was considering writing about those bad people who have not had a positive influence but decided against going that route. They are best forgotten, fading in the mists of time. But those kind folks who helped me in my life, I want them remember forever. So here goes. 

There have been many people who have been kind and helpful to me in my life but there is a handful who have profoundly influenced me and also, by their kind and caring actions, help to provide me with the wonderful life I have had.....so far. I plan to live a few more years but if I should die tomorrow, at least I will have recorded for history these fine people who saw the good and potential in me and helped me towards leading the right path. This will have to be a multiple series of blog posts, one for each hero.

First and foremost in my life was, of course, my Mother. 

My Mother wasn't perfect but to me and my two younger brothers we will always remained convinced that we literally had the Best Mother In The World. I remember how shocked I was when in my twenties I was talking with one of my friends in a gay bar and he brought up how awful his mother was. At first I couldn't process what he was saying. I just assumed everyone had a great mother like my brothers and I had. Apparently not. That was the first time I realized how blessed my brothers and I were to have a mother such as we had. 

Our Mother didn't have an easy time growing up. Her mother died in childbirth before my Mother was two years old. She was the youngest of five children. She had a "Cinderella" childhood, wicked step-mother and all. Philandering and abusive father. The whole package. She married my father when she was only sixteen to "get away from that mess" as my father said to her when he proposed to her. She was still in high school. They ran off to Elkton Maryland to get married one weekend. The following Monday she returned to her classes at school. She was a senior in high school. Her father found out she got married over the weekend and, of course, beat her. She gathered up her meager belongings and she and my father moved to a rented small house in the country. No running water, indoor plumbing or electricity. But she was away from "that mess" as my father called it. 

Betty Hadfield - 1939 - high school student

My Mother, although she had not the most desirable childhood growing up experience, always managed to project a happy demeanor. She never wore much makeup, she didn't need to because she had a natural beauty. People always remarked on her smile. "What a beautiful smile Betty has!" My Mother also had a beautiful head of hair which was always remarked upon. I like to think I inherited both her smile and lush brown hair. My father was blond as were both of my younger brothers. Of course I was my Mom's favorite although she would never admit that fact. She always said she loved "all her boys equally" which actually she did. But everyone knew I was the FAV. 

Me with my Mother and two younger brothers Towerville,, PA about 1949

She actually wanted a girl. She even had a name picked out, "Louise", her middle name. She told me she wanted to give a little girl a good childhood, not the one she had. Of course she had three boys. Hey, do you think that's why I'm gay? Because she wished she had a girl? Oh well, we'll never know will we? All I know is from my earliest memory I was attracted to men in a "special way", more so than women but that's My Story and this is all about my Mother. 

You know when I began this blog post I was going to write about all my heroes then I realized that writing about my Mother would take up a big blog post, in fact I could write a book about my Mother. 

My father carried these two pictures in his wallet his whole life. I only came into possession of them after he died. He loved her his whole life even though he strayed a bit when he was younger. She kept our family together. Never once did I ever hear him raise his voice with her or become angry with her. He worshiped her. The jalopy pictured at the bottom was the car she met him in. She was on a double date with her friend Edie Lemon. My father was actually Edie's date. My Mother's date was Charlie Hanck. But It was my father's car. But when my Mother saw my father drive up she told her girlfriend Edie "You get in the back with Charlies, I'm riding up front with HIM!" And Edit did and the rest is history. She knew she met her Match for Life. The year was 1940.

My parents' first home. Down a dirt road in Mineral Springs, PA. No electricity, indoor plumbing or running water (pump outside). Rent ten dollars a month. That is my Mom standing in the road pregnant with me. She was finally away from "that mess" of her childhood home. Little did she know she was going to enter a whole new "mess" of poverty with three little boys under five years old with a husband who was a cross country truck driver during the war. She often told me that she didn't have enough food for us or the multiple dogs my father was keeping. Finally she had to turn the dogs into the pound because she didn't have enough food to feed them. 

My very first picture. I do not remember being here! Looks like I was riding high. 

My father with my pregnant (with me) Mother during one of his layovers from his World War II cross country truck driving job. My father wasn't in the service during the war because he was classified a "4-F" because of a head injury during his childhood. When he was nine years old he and his brothers were chopping wood with an ax at their then home in the mountain hills of western North Carolina (hillbilly country, which my father was his hole life, a hillbilly) and the ax blade flew off and became imbedded in the back of his head. He was rushed to the Johnson City Hospital in the back of a donkey cart (no cars in those mountains then in 1927). He survived but had permanent brain injury. He was healthy enough to contribute to the war effort though by driving a truck during the war cross country to deliver supplies. During those trips he had "encounters." I probably have half brothers and sisters that I've never met. But that's another whole story. Real life is always more interesting than made up Hollywood drivel. 

Then came that day in November of 1941 that yours truly made his grand entrance into this world. See that look on my face? It's almost saying "What am I doing here?" Thus I began another one of my lives. Oh yes, I believe in reincarnation. Only thing that makes sense to me. Especially now that I'm coming to the end of this existence on this planet. Maybe I'll be reborn on another planet the next time. Again, a subject for another blog. 

Mom's "handful" of three boys, each a year apart. Two little blond boys who took after their father and one little dark haired boy (me) who took after my Mother. We were affectionately known as "The Three Terrors".  Of course I was the ringleader. Sadly my youngest brother died this past year. He's waiting for me in Heaven. At least that's what he told me before he left (he was a pastor). 

We never had much materially growing up but we did have something that is immeasurable, the selfless love our Mother. Her first priority was always my father but we were close behind. She raised us to respect authority (something that I question now) and to always be honest (we didn't let her down, not even close). She also forced me to take typing which I will be forever grateful but at the time I didn't want to take Typing in high school because "only girls" took Typing class. I'll always remember what she told me "You're not going to waste your time in Study Hall (she went to the same school I went to), you're going to learn a skill that you can use the rest of your life". I fought it the first year of Typing (got a D) but my second year of Typing I excelled eventually getting an award as "The Best Typist" of my class (72 WPM on a manual typewriter). She was right, I've used my typing skills (including now) the rest of my life. I only wish she had forced me to take piano lessons. I would have loved to known how to play a piano. Again a subject for another blog post. 

Another really beneficial thing she did was get me a paperboy job when I was ten years old. Of course I didn't want that job, I wanted to hang out at the local drug store like my peers but she said "You're getting a job!" That job, that I had for five years, was perhaps the best job I've ever had in my life. It not only sought me responsibility but gave me an opportunity to earn my own money. I never received one penny in allowance from my parents while many of my peers received 25 cents a week. At that time I felt "cheated" but now I realize what she did by getting me that paperboy job was so much more valuable to me than an easy 25 cents a week allowance. I delivered papers seven days a week. Five days after school and on the weekend Saturday in the afternoon and Sunday (the worst) in the morning (the papers were so heavy, sometimes I had to make two trips). All kinds of weather of course. Toughened me up. She knew what she was doing.

Me (seated) with my Mother and brother Isaac (standing). I'm devouring a hoagie (25 cents each then!) at our rent free apartment on Boot Road. My Mother was more of a mother to me and Isaac, she was our best friend. She was one of the gang. She also wanted us to be educated. Checkout that encyclopedia set behind us. She couldn't afford to send us to college (although I wanted to go very badly), she couldn't even afford that encyclopedia set but she got it anyway from one of those traveling encyclopedia salesmen on a monthly payment billing. Those curtains? Plastic. What we lacked in material possessions we had in love and security. My Mother more than made up for my father's indifference to his children. I don't think he ever wanted children. He didn't like me, I think that was because I was my Mother's favorite and he was always very jealous of her. Again, another whole story for another blog post. Life is so complicated isn't it?

My mother and father 1986 Hibernia Park, Coatesville, PA

My mother and father were married sixty years. He died in 2000 from lung cancer. He smoked his whole life. He was told to stop smoking but he didn't. He was stubborn. 

My Mother died ten years later in 2010. She was never the same after my father, her husband died. 

During her lifetime, as I mentioned earlier, her husband was always her first priority. Always. I tested her at times but she never wavered. Nor should she. She took care of him, even when he couldn't work anymore when he was fifty-two years old. She got a job at Pepperridge Farms with her sister-in-law Mabel (my father's brother's wife). She got that job to support our family. I will always remember that after a long day at work in the layer cake frozen food conveyor belt line (a "Lucy and Ethel" job), she would come home and prepare a sit-down dinner for her husband and three sons. At that time I didn't think about it, it just was the way it was. The woman always made the meals. Now I realize she went over and above. 

Mom receiving her 25 year award from Pepperridge Farms

When my Mother worked at Pepperridge Farms we always had a ready supply of layer cakes and other Pepperridge Farm products. Strudel was her favorite. I wonder if they even make that apple strudel now.

She and my Aunt Mable were best friends and had so much "fun" working at Pepperridge Farms. The picture below is from my Mother's retirement party which Aunt Mable surprised her. 

I miss both of them so much. My Aunt Mable was also a very happy person. In fact I took her with me when I won a trip to DisneyWorld in 2000. Both of them are gone now and the world is a little less cheerful because of that fact. 

After my father died, my Mother went downhill.

Mom at 85 years old in 2008

It was almost like she had no purpose to live any more. She lived at the family home with my divorced brother Isaac for several years but eventually she needed more care so we moved her to my other brother's home in South Carolina. She didn't want to go but he had a mother-in-law apartment which his mother-in-law lived in for 29 years. He was a care pastor so he knew all about caring for an elderly parent. 

She didn't smile as often now. I will always remember the last time I saw her. It was about six months before she died in 2010. Bill and I visited my brother and his family in Greenville, South Carolina, where she had her own apartment. They took good care of her but she wanted to go to her own home. She was mad at me. When I went in to see her she was lying on her bed softly crying. She had her little suitcase packed, ready to leave with me and Bill to go back north to Pennsylvania. We couldn't take her. I was going to say "Goodbye" to her but didn't want to disturb her even more so I left quietly without saying anything. She died six months later. She was eighty-seven years old. 

I am sorry she died sad but she had a good life. She was the best mom that me and my brothers could ever have had. 

She was my first hero. 

I will never forget my beautiful Mom as long as I live.  

"Pop" with the love of his life, my Mom