Lost But Not Forgotten: My Mother's Life

By Jean D. Johnson

Quite a while ago, I asked my mother to fill out a store-bought book about her life. You know, the ones that are called, "Mother's Remembrances" or some such thing? Several years before Mom died, she surprised me with a huge scrapbook of her life from birth through adulthood and into her retirement years It was beautiful - in layout and in content. This book is Mom's story of her life growing up in a tourist home in Richmond, Virginia, marrying my father, leaving her abusive marriage, and finding happiness in Florida.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jean D. Johnson
• Release date: Jun 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310741944

Jean D. Johnson

I was born in Arlington, Virginia, and currently reside in Oak Hill, Virginia. As a child, I loved writing poetry that my mother would then make into little booklets, covered with wallpaper samples,, and send to my grandparents. My other artistic outlet was singing, which I did quite well when pulled out to sing for family and subsequently in high school select groups and musicals. My last performances were with The Alexandria Singers. Then I just got too busy with marriage, raising a family, and working. Now I substitute teach various elementary school subjects - and a lot of music! For relaxation, I go out to eat with girlfriends, explore my family history, and sometimes I practice my ukulele and play board games with a meet-up group.I had let my writing languish for a while with the normal business of every day life when my mother fell sick at 92 years old and died of pneumonia. I hadn't lost someone so close to me since my dad died when I was in my twenties. That was different, because he was a sick abusive alcoholic, so losing him was almost a relief sometimes. I had to learn how to mourn what I'd wanted him to be. My mother was the one who had always kept our family going, so this was different. She lived a courageous life, broke free of the abuse, and went on to live a better life with new friends in Florida. I wrote about this in one of my books.People often say that writing heals the soul, so I tried to write letters to Mom after she died, but I just couldn't do it. Instead, I turned to poetry - often writing a poem or two each day about Mom and grief in general. At the same time, as I got better, I began writing other poems on non-grief topics (anxiety, depression, children, etc.). At the end of the year, I turned those poems into self-published books that I made available through various outlets. I still can't read the poems I wrote about Mom without crying. Maybe someday...I wrote two small books of children's poems, and I intend to write a picture book (or two or three) for children, so I can read it to the kids I substitute teach. Sometime I intend to write a book about my life as a child of abuse by a bipolar alcoholic and how I have benefited by psychological therapy and found happiness with a family of my own.I have to wonderful young adult children and a husband who is responsible, reliable, loving, and fun. Can't beat that! Anyway, that's my story. I hope someone somewhere finds comfort in my books. They were written with love.

Book preview

Lost But Not Forgotten: My Mother’s Life

By Jean Dudley Johnson

Text copyright 2016 Jean Dudley Johnson

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication: To my beloved mother

Preface

If you’re a battered spouse or child who cannot imagine a life beyond abuse, then this book will give you hope. If you’re interested in reading quaint stories about life from an animal-lover, a nature-lover, a creative and strong woman, and a keen observer of life, then this book will entertain you.

Several years ago, I asked my mother to fill in the answers about her life in a memory book I had bought and sent to her. What I got in return was astounding, but true to my mother’s personality. Mom had set aside the store-bought memory book and had created a huge memory book about her life from childhood to her senior years. In it, she told stories of her life growing up in a tourist home in Richmond, Virginia, during The Great Depression in America, her escape from an abusive marriage later on in life, and her reinvention of herself after she retired to Florida.

Because of my mother’s strength (and my own family role of survival by being the good kid), I survived abuse from my father, too. Mom introduced me to therapy when I was a teenager. I stomped out of it, but that introduction led me to return to therapy later on, something that made a huge difference in my life. I, too, have my own success story – how I left a ten-year relationship that mimicked my relationship with my father, how I learned through therapy to trust myself and to take chances again, how I learned to understand my father and to forgive him, and how I found happiness in my thirties with a wonderful man and great children. But that’s another book. This book is the story of my mother’s life, told in her own words. I hope you enjoy it.

My mother died on December 23, 2014, from pneumonia at the age of 92. The first chapter of this book was written by me. In it, I explain what I did to try to come to terms with one of the biggest losses of my life. Following that is my mother’s life story. Beyond that are two creative writing stories Mom wrote about her life. I found them among her things after she died. Next to last is the last letter my mother wrote to my brothers and me. Finally, I have written a chapter on what I have learned in life, an introduction to me as an author, and a poem from my other book, Poetry on the Loss of a Mother, poetry I wrote about grief and Mom during the first year following Mom’s death, also available through Smashwords.com and other distributors.

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1 - A Sad Time

The Aftermath

Chapter 2 - Mom’s Memory Album

Mom’s Childhood

Mom’s Brother George

More on Mom’s Childhood

The Virginian Tourist Home

A Tourist Home Full of Cats

On the Road and a New Love

Sweet Sixteen

Dissolution of a Marriage

Jean Marie Dudley

Your Younger Brother Martin

Shannon and Michael Johnson

Virginia (Peggy) Odom – My First Cousin – The Sister I Never Had

Florida-bound

Roy Larsh

Friends, Friends, and More Friends!

For the Love of Cats and Other Creatures

My Favorite Things

Roy’s Little Acre of Paradise in Ft. Myers, Florida

502 Janneys Lane, Alexandria, Virginia

Chapter 3 - Mom's Creative Writing Class Stories

My Mother’s Article about Collecting Things:

Mom’s Story of the Dissolution of Her Marriage

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Chapter 4 - My Mother's Last Letter to Us

Chapter 5 - What I Learned about Myself, a Child of Abuse

About the author

The Cardinal’s Visit

Chapter 1: A Sad Time

I knew my mother would die someday. After all, she was very old. Even she was surprised that she had lived so long. Still, my heart broke when she died two days before Christmas. A year or so later, I still have my moments of intense grief over it. This is the story of how I managed during my first year of grief – what I did to try to make it easier to get through it and whether or not it helped.

Several days before Mom died, I received a phone call from my older brother, Roy. Roy had an aversion to phones and would seldom call unless Mom was hurt or sick. In this case, she was sick and in the hospital.

Roy got right to the point. Mom had pneumonia. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t make it, he said. My first reaction was shock. My next was fear. The third reaction I had was uncertainty. I can’t explain why, but I’d always felt afraid of seeing people I loved ill or weak. Hospitals scare me. Being at someone’s sick bed scares me. What should I do? I thought. Should I fly down to Florida or should I wait? An article I read on the internet said that many people treated in hospitals survive pneumonia, but Mom was underweight and old. Mom had survived a lot in her 92 years of life. Surely she would survive this, too. So I stayed home, waiting to see what would happen.

Every day, I called Roy and he held the phone up to Mom’s ear for me to talk to her, to tell her that she had to get better, that I loved her. My friends comforted me. I met with my therapist and he advised me to fly down to Florida, but I was scared. Scared of seeing my mother weakened, ill. I’m not sure why I have always been afraid of severe illness and death. My dad was ill before he died, but I never acknowledged it. He had become thin, but I attributed it to him drinking too much. I wasn’t there when he died. My dad died unexpectedly on the weekend. Mom and I returned home from going to yard sales and learned about his death when my older brother called us. As a well-taught child of an alcoholic, abusive dad, I first felt relief (that the abuse was over) and then I moved to comfort my mother. I didn’t even think that I might need attention. The next day, I did what was expected of me – I went to work. Later on, I fell apart at work while telling my boss about my father’s death, and I was sent home to mourn. I have spoken to other people who did the same thing – just went to work.

Would I have gone down to Florida if Roy had said definitively that Mom was dying and somebody could get away to go with me? Probably, but who knows if I would have made it there in time? Perhaps it’s a good thing that I didn’t see Mom gasping for air and hallucinating. At least, I can remember her when she was well. Mom probably wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see her that way, either. Being so selfless, she probably would have discouraged me from flying down. But still…

Perhaps having Roy there with her was enough comfort for her. Unfortunately, Roy has degenerative arthritis and COPD. While caring for her, he ran out of oxygen and collapsed. Someone from the hospital called to let me know. I asked how Mom was, and the woman said, Well, your brother will make it, but your mom won’t. Maybe they have to be brutally honest, but I felt that was a little cold. Yet, I’d wanted to know, hadn’t I? I’d wanted certainty so I’d know what to do. Now I knew that I had to pack. My husband, Tom, rushed to make plane reservations for my trip from Northern Virginia to Florida.

Just before Roy’s collapse, he had held the phone up to Mom’s ear so that I could talk to Mom. In a raspy voice, Mom began, Jean Marie…, but I talked over her. Mom, I said, You have to get better, okay? Just get better. I love you. Little did I know that would be my last conversation with her. Now I’ll never know what Mom meant to tell me. I love you? Don’t come down here? I see your father? Death is not the end; there’s more? I may never find out.

After Roy had been given more oxygen, he called me to say that Mom had died. My mother was not as indestructible as I’d always wanted to believe. In previous years, Mom had slipped on ice, fallen, and broken her hip, had skin cancer lesions removed, had high blood pressure and diabetes, and had a number of other ills. Yet whenever my daughter and I visited her, she managed to go out for a girls’ lunch, to browse in a thrift shop, to have a nice visit to a tea room, or to swap books at her