I went home with Linda & Richard. After we’d picked up flowers and cards. I sat at her dining room table that night and wrote out every single thank you card. I just needed to get it done.
Then came the worry about my baby. I clearly remembered saying at the hospital, that I couldn’t have this baby, didn‘t want this baby. I couldn’t do this. And now came the worry. Had I cursed the baby? Would it be ok? Would God punish me for saying that? Maybe I deserved punishment, but please God, not this baby. I didn’t mean it. So, now my goal was to HAVE this baby. And days went by. I went for long walks. I never sat down for more than a couple of minutes. I had Richard take me to the Ford Plant where he worked and drive me over and over railroad tracks hoping to start labor. Nothing. Nada. This went on for days.
Finally, nine days after Harm died, I went to the Doctor and begged him to induce labor. NOTE* Not my family doctor. Dr. J had stopped delivering babies by then. I was going to a new guy, didn’t like him a lot. An old German with old fashioned beliefs. And, I’d pay for that!
So. He agreed to meet me at the hospital that afternoon and induce me. I got there, he came in and broke my water. (things were way different in 1972. No fetal monitors and such)
And then he left. He said I’d probably go into labor in about six hours or so.
WRONG.
By the time he got back to his office about 6 miles away, the hospital was calling for him to return as I was ready to deliver. This was when epidurals were just becoming available. Linda had one with Leigh Ann and said it was painless. Thus, the new doctor. Yeah. By the time he turned around and came back, I was so far advanced that there was no anesthesia. Period. Totally unprepared for natural labor. What a horrible experience. This was before birth was a family affair. No one got in the delivery room in those days. They brought my mother in, wrapped in surgical gear from head to toe, to try to calm me. Yeah, right. They gave me gas & I was certain they were trying to kill me. I ripped off the mask, ripped out the IV and I was ready to get the hell outta Dodge.
Then she was born. Jennifer Ann Ratliff. March 13. 1972.
And she was healthy and well and I hadn’t cursed her. What a blessing.
Background: I’d explained to the Dr that I didn’t want to be around anyone else. Please inform the staff of my circumstances. I wanted a private room, at my expense, if necessary. It just didn’t seem fair to me that someone else’s joy should be diminished because they were rooming with a recent widow. Made sense to me and mine. I didn’t want to be around a happy little family. Special circumstances, right? Right.
First off, after he broke my water, I was roaming the halls. Trying to get this whole thing going. A nurse said to me, “Why don’t you just go down the hall to where your husband is waiting for you.” OK.
Then she was born. Jennifer Ann Ratliff. March 13. 1972.
And she was healthy and well and I hadn’t cursed her. What a blessing.
Background: I’d explained to the Dr that I didn’t want to be around anyone else. Please inform the staff of my circumstances. I wanted a private room, at my expense, if necessary. It just didn’t seem fair to me that someone else’s joy should be diminished because they were rooming with a recent widow. Made sense to me and mine. I didn’t want to be around a happy little family. Special circumstances, right? Right.
First off, after he broke my water, I was roaming the halls. Trying to get this whole thing going. A nurse said to me, “Why don’t you just go down the hall to where your husband is waiting for you.” OK.
After delivery, you guessed it. Double room with a happy mother of a first newborn. OK. Then the gal with the photos showed up. Left the pictures with me so “my husband and I could look them over.” And the worst blow?
Literally. Turned out my doctor believed in breast feeding. I didn’t. And I didn’t know this. Linda has small breasts and never a problem. I’d gone through hell after Traci with full breasts and refilling breasts. Like a freakin’ faucet. What did he offer me? No pills to dry me up. Nurse Rachett came into my room and LITERALLY dropped two ice bags onto my swollen breasts. I cried harder then than I had since the funeral. Exquisite Pain. Never felt before or since that time. Unbelievable pain.
I called Dr J from the hospital and requested he call me in a prescription to dry me up. He came through. But, it was a bit too late. I came home and mother ripped up sheets. She and Linda bound me. I don’t know which of the three of us was crying hardest. It was ultimate pain. For me physically, for them emotionally, to have to hurt me so bad when I was so broken. A weird sort of bonding ritual.
I don’t remember a lot after that. I believe I went through life in a sort of fog for several months. Not a lot of details. I don’t remember much about anything at that time. How Traci was coping. She seemed alright to all of us. I hope she was.
I can’t remember much about Jennifer as a little baby. I do remember that she was exactly the baby I needed. It was like Harm picked her out for me. She slept through the night from the day she came home. Hardly ever cried. Nearly always content and happy. Actually, much like she is now. My family must have just pushed me through the days. I don’t remember much at all for several months. Except for shopping monthly with my father when our social security checks came in. Weird, huh?
So, that’s pretty much the end of the story. Except it’s never really ended. I remember it clear as day every year around this time . I wish I didn’t. But then again, someone has to remember, don’t they? Otherwise it’s all gone. And if not me? Who is there to remember that a wonderful man lived and died? Way too soon. Way way too soon. His children don’t remember him. His parents are gone. Who else to keep his memory alive? I can’t just walk away and pretend he never existed. He did. And he was. And I loved him.
I would so hate to be forgotten. Maybe, that’s what this is all about. My own ego. Immortality. If no one remembers you, you’re gone. Period. Perhaps it’s my job to remember. I hope someone takes on that job for me when I’m gone. And I hope it’s all of my children, and their children and on and on. Because he truly was a good soul. It should be remembered that he lived. And was loved. And was loving. He was here and poof……gone. But, he did indeed leave his footprints. On my heart.
I had his headstone engraved “Those who knew him could not help loving him.” I hope 100 years from now, when anyone sees that stone, they’ll give him a thought and acknowledge that he must have been quite a guy, to earn that saying on his grave. That would make me happy.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
GRACE
Not So.
That’s the day the world changed.
March 4, 1972. He was 23 years and just shy of 4 months old. I was 22, just a month and a day till my next birthday.
I started all this writing thinking that I’d just bite off a little bit at a time. Slow and easy. Maybe I’d finally get it all down and out and perhaps, just maybe, find an ending. Something. Whatever. But, guess what? I just feel frantic now to get it written down while I can. Just to get it over with. Where the hell is all this going anyway? The story always ends the same.
But, I can’t be the last to remember him. Someone after me has to know the story and pass it on. Harm dies. It changed the rest of my life. And
Traci & Jen’s. And it certainly changed the rest of his.
Oakwood Hospital.
Staff rushed him from the ambulance to emergency. Next thing I know, someone is settling me into a wheel chair. I remember thinking, “they see I’m pregnant, how nice of them.” Isn’t it weird what we remember? And what we don’t? Someone sat me down and then left. There was no one around.
This doctor comes up to me and says. “Mrs. Ratliff ?”. I respond, “yes”. He says to me “Your husband is no longer alive.” And turns and walks away.
Seriously. Just that statement and he turned his back and was leaving. I couldn’t believe what I thought I heard him say. I jumped up and said “Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”
He repeated what he’d said, “Your husband is no longer alive.” And he left. Yes, he really and truly just walked away like it didn’t matter. And I was alone.
I think maybe that’s when the shock set in. And over the next couple of days. I experienced more shock than I thought anyone could endure. But, somehow we do. I’ve come to believe that that’s TRUE GRACE. God’s free gift to get to us through that which we would NEVER be able to overcome alone. I think that’s why I’m still hanging in today. Grace.
So, I’m sitting there alone, sobbing, when my parent’s walk into the emergency room.
My Mother rushes over and says, “How is he?” I looked at her and remember saying, “They didn’t tell you?
“He’s dead. DEAD. He can’t be dead. I can’t have this baby. I don’t want this baby!” And then I collapsed into her waiting arms. Next thing I remember is going out to the parking lot. Linda & Richard were waiting. Daddy had called. Linda walked up to me, I said, “Please don’t say anything.” And she didn’t. She just led me to the backseat and held me while I cried all the way home. Again, she came through just as I needed her that day.
We went to my parent’s house. We had telephone calls and arrangements to make. Bless her, Linda did nearly all of that. Those horrible calls that someone has to make. And nobody wants to receive.
Harm’s parents. There are no words I can come up with to truly explain the horror of having to tell them their son had died. But, I couldn’t NOT do it. If I could redo just that one thing in my life that I had control of, I’d have copped out and let Linda & Richard break the news.
That was almost worse than going through it the first time. I can’t even relate, and hope I NEVER have to, to losing a child. If one could die from will, they would have both died at that moment. Believe me, it was one horrible evening.
Unfortunately, the hospital couldn’t reach our family doctor to sign the death certificate. So instead, they sent poor Harm downtown Detroit, to the morgue where he was autopsied. Sunday morning my father and bro in law, Richard, had to go down to identify the body before he could be released. I never spoke about that with either of them. Daddy’s long gone, but to this day, I could never approach that subject with Richard. Some things you just don’t have to know, you know?
On to the funeral home to make arrangements. That was the first time. I’ve done it four more times since, and it really doesn’t get easier with practice. Then on to Sears to buy a dress. Whoever thought you’d need to buy a black maternity dress the day AFTER your baby was due. And for your husband’s funeral. That’s just crazy.
I let his parents choose the cemetery. It was halfway between their home and ours………..make that mine now. Harm had no family to speak of, except for his parents and an aunt & four cousins in WV. I just wanted this over, no long drawn out days at the funeral home. So, we chose to have the viewing----isn’t that a stupid term? Viewing? For Monday only, all day with the funeral on Tuesday.
It was absolutely amazing how many people showed up so quickly. Really, all of my family that was in the area, friends, co-workers. Even an old boyfriend and his wife. Amazing really. I don’t remember a lot of it, again Grace. But there are some parts never to be forgotten. I was holding up pretty well. I remember my mother and sister trying to keep be down. In a chair. When anyone new showed up, I popped up to greet them. They were thinking about the baby and the stress on my body. We were all afraid I’d go into labor any minute. Mama told me, “let them come to you. It’s ok. You don’t need to keep getting up.” But, I did.
I only REALLY lost it twice that day. Once, when my cousin Bob hugged me. Again when, of all people, my girlfriend’s father held me. Strange. Nope, we’ll make that three times.
Harm’s boss showed up. He had a check for me. A pretty big check. His own contribution, plus he had spent the entire day going from one shop to another selling off Harm’s tools for me. (Yes, he’d asked first, I said ok via Linda.) Weird thing: some time later I heard that my cousin DarLene was at her weekly bowling league and one of her friends told the sad story of her husband buying some tools that had belonged to a guy who’d suddenly passed away. Yep, 23 years old. With a little girl and a very pregnant wife. Small world, huh?
So, I’d nearly gotten through that day. It must have been 8:00 p.m. Linda and I were sitting in the lounge with a large group of my friends from work.
I don’t know if I can ever explain this to make anyone understand my feelings. But, I’m going to give it hell.
My FIL was a tall man. Probably 6 foot or so. I was sitting down. All of a sudden he walked over to me. I’ll never forget him looming over me. He looked down at me and said,” It’s your fault Harm Jr. is dead. I thought you said you went to the neighbors to get help. I just talked to so & so. (I truly don’t remember the man’s name but he was one of my next door neighbors.) He said you never went to his house!” And I hadn’t. His house was set back and you had to go through a gate to even access the porch. I didn’t go there. I went to the other neighbor who was just a walk down the steps and a run across the lawn. It would be quite an understatement to say I lost it.
I did. I utterly and completely lost it. I began to sob and say, “I tried”. And that’s surely the closest one can come to nearly losing their mind. Everything hurt. I’ll never forget it. Everything hurt. Every tissue in my body, my hair, my fingernails, I could feel pain in every part of my body and my mind. I truly wanted to die right then and there. But, of course, I didn’t.
Next thing I know several of my cousins are literally throwing my FIL out of the funeral home. They probably didn’t even know for sure who he was, they just got him away from me. My cousin JoAnn ran up to my mother and said, “Aunt Kay, somebody said something to Lolli.” I remember Mama running into the room in a rage, saying “What the hell’s going on in here?” I don’t remember much after that. Harm’s aunt & cousins got there just before closing time. I went to the coffin to say my goodnight to my husband and once again all hell broke loose. My mother in law was screaming and sobbing and trying to pull Harm out of the coffin. It was horrible. I had to leave without saying goodnight.
My parents and sister were furious. They hated Harm Sr. anyway for what he’d done way back when. They liked Ruby, but knew that just now, they were bad for me.
The next morning, I took Ruby aside and told her that I could not ride to the cemetery with them. I needed to stay as calm as possible and not have this baby just now. I needed to get through this and they were just making it too hard. I think maybe it sunk in. It wasn’t just about their loss. They’d lost their son, yes, but I’d lost my husband. And the father of my children.
It’s all pretty much a blur after that. I truly and thankfully don’t remember a lot of details. There were yellow roses covering his coffin. Our flower. We shielded Traci from all of this. Richard’s mother watched her for those couple of days. Bless her heart.
That’s the day the world changed.
March 4, 1972. He was 23 years and just shy of 4 months old. I was 22, just a month and a day till my next birthday.
I started all this writing thinking that I’d just bite off a little bit at a time. Slow and easy. Maybe I’d finally get it all down and out and perhaps, just maybe, find an ending. Something. Whatever. But, guess what? I just feel frantic now to get it written down while I can. Just to get it over with. Where the hell is all this going anyway? The story always ends the same.
But, I can’t be the last to remember him. Someone after me has to know the story and pass it on. Harm dies. It changed the rest of my life. And
Traci & Jen’s. And it certainly changed the rest of his.
Oakwood Hospital.
Staff rushed him from the ambulance to emergency. Next thing I know, someone is settling me into a wheel chair. I remember thinking, “they see I’m pregnant, how nice of them.” Isn’t it weird what we remember? And what we don’t? Someone sat me down and then left. There was no one around.
This doctor comes up to me and says. “Mrs. Ratliff ?”. I respond, “yes”. He says to me “Your husband is no longer alive.” And turns and walks away.
Seriously. Just that statement and he turned his back and was leaving. I couldn’t believe what I thought I heard him say. I jumped up and said “Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”
He repeated what he’d said, “Your husband is no longer alive.” And he left. Yes, he really and truly just walked away like it didn’t matter. And I was alone.
I think maybe that’s when the shock set in. And over the next couple of days. I experienced more shock than I thought anyone could endure. But, somehow we do. I’ve come to believe that that’s TRUE GRACE. God’s free gift to get to us through that which we would NEVER be able to overcome alone. I think that’s why I’m still hanging in today. Grace.
So, I’m sitting there alone, sobbing, when my parent’s walk into the emergency room.
My Mother rushes over and says, “How is he?” I looked at her and remember saying, “They didn’t tell you?
“He’s dead. DEAD. He can’t be dead. I can’t have this baby. I don’t want this baby!” And then I collapsed into her waiting arms. Next thing I remember is going out to the parking lot. Linda & Richard were waiting. Daddy had called. Linda walked up to me, I said, “Please don’t say anything.” And she didn’t. She just led me to the backseat and held me while I cried all the way home. Again, she came through just as I needed her that day.
We went to my parent’s house. We had telephone calls and arrangements to make. Bless her, Linda did nearly all of that. Those horrible calls that someone has to make. And nobody wants to receive.
Harm’s parents. There are no words I can come up with to truly explain the horror of having to tell them their son had died. But, I couldn’t NOT do it. If I could redo just that one thing in my life that I had control of, I’d have copped out and let Linda & Richard break the news.
That was almost worse than going through it the first time. I can’t even relate, and hope I NEVER have to, to losing a child. If one could die from will, they would have both died at that moment. Believe me, it was one horrible evening.
Unfortunately, the hospital couldn’t reach our family doctor to sign the death certificate. So instead, they sent poor Harm downtown Detroit, to the morgue where he was autopsied. Sunday morning my father and bro in law, Richard, had to go down to identify the body before he could be released. I never spoke about that with either of them. Daddy’s long gone, but to this day, I could never approach that subject with Richard. Some things you just don’t have to know, you know?
On to the funeral home to make arrangements. That was the first time. I’ve done it four more times since, and it really doesn’t get easier with practice. Then on to Sears to buy a dress. Whoever thought you’d need to buy a black maternity dress the day AFTER your baby was due. And for your husband’s funeral. That’s just crazy.
I let his parents choose the cemetery. It was halfway between their home and ours………..make that mine now. Harm had no family to speak of, except for his parents and an aunt & four cousins in WV. I just wanted this over, no long drawn out days at the funeral home. So, we chose to have the viewing----isn’t that a stupid term? Viewing? For Monday only, all day with the funeral on Tuesday.
It was absolutely amazing how many people showed up so quickly. Really, all of my family that was in the area, friends, co-workers. Even an old boyfriend and his wife. Amazing really. I don’t remember a lot of it, again Grace. But there are some parts never to be forgotten. I was holding up pretty well. I remember my mother and sister trying to keep be down. In a chair. When anyone new showed up, I popped up to greet them. They were thinking about the baby and the stress on my body. We were all afraid I’d go into labor any minute. Mama told me, “let them come to you. It’s ok. You don’t need to keep getting up.” But, I did.
I only REALLY lost it twice that day. Once, when my cousin Bob hugged me. Again when, of all people, my girlfriend’s father held me. Strange. Nope, we’ll make that three times.
Harm’s boss showed up. He had a check for me. A pretty big check. His own contribution, plus he had spent the entire day going from one shop to another selling off Harm’s tools for me. (Yes, he’d asked first, I said ok via Linda.) Weird thing: some time later I heard that my cousin DarLene was at her weekly bowling league and one of her friends told the sad story of her husband buying some tools that had belonged to a guy who’d suddenly passed away. Yep, 23 years old. With a little girl and a very pregnant wife. Small world, huh?
So, I’d nearly gotten through that day. It must have been 8:00 p.m. Linda and I were sitting in the lounge with a large group of my friends from work.
I don’t know if I can ever explain this to make anyone understand my feelings. But, I’m going to give it hell.
My FIL was a tall man. Probably 6 foot or so. I was sitting down. All of a sudden he walked over to me. I’ll never forget him looming over me. He looked down at me and said,” It’s your fault Harm Jr. is dead. I thought you said you went to the neighbors to get help. I just talked to so & so. (I truly don’t remember the man’s name but he was one of my next door neighbors.) He said you never went to his house!” And I hadn’t. His house was set back and you had to go through a gate to even access the porch. I didn’t go there. I went to the other neighbor who was just a walk down the steps and a run across the lawn. It would be quite an understatement to say I lost it.
I did. I utterly and completely lost it. I began to sob and say, “I tried”. And that’s surely the closest one can come to nearly losing their mind. Everything hurt. I’ll never forget it. Everything hurt. Every tissue in my body, my hair, my fingernails, I could feel pain in every part of my body and my mind. I truly wanted to die right then and there. But, of course, I didn’t.
Next thing I know several of my cousins are literally throwing my FIL out of the funeral home. They probably didn’t even know for sure who he was, they just got him away from me. My cousin JoAnn ran up to my mother and said, “Aunt Kay, somebody said something to Lolli.” I remember Mama running into the room in a rage, saying “What the hell’s going on in here?” I don’t remember much after that. Harm’s aunt & cousins got there just before closing time. I went to the coffin to say my goodnight to my husband and once again all hell broke loose. My mother in law was screaming and sobbing and trying to pull Harm out of the coffin. It was horrible. I had to leave without saying goodnight.
My parents and sister were furious. They hated Harm Sr. anyway for what he’d done way back when. They liked Ruby, but knew that just now, they were bad for me.
The next morning, I took Ruby aside and told her that I could not ride to the cemetery with them. I needed to stay as calm as possible and not have this baby just now. I needed to get through this and they were just making it too hard. I think maybe it sunk in. It wasn’t just about their loss. They’d lost their son, yes, but I’d lost my husband. And the father of my children.
It’s all pretty much a blur after that. I truly and thankfully don’t remember a lot of details. There were yellow roses covering his coffin. Our flower. We shielded Traci from all of this. Richard’s mother watched her for those couple of days. Bless her heart.
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