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From Breathing to Believing: Changing and Growing
From Breathing to Believing: Changing and Growing
From Breathing to Believing: Changing and Growing
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From Breathing to Believing: Changing and Growing

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This is the story of a good girl whose childhood is scarred by Alcoholism. Teenage girl meets boy and the story gets complicated. After many years of hearbreak and prayer there is a happy ending. Her faith in God grows, giving her determination to survive through hard times. This story may be an inspiration to young people of today.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWestBow Press
Release dateMar 29, 2021
ISBN9781664226388
From Breathing to Believing: Changing and Growing
Author

Hope Holloway

Hope is an 82-year-old great grandmother. She is living a life she could never have hoped for thirty years ago. She and her husband share a retirement steeped in mutual love, respect, honesty and humor. Their life together reflects their sincere appreciation for what they have been given and their ability to give to others. Hope has grown over the years from a naïve young lady to a seasoned woman. She has weathered the storms of two bad marriages, health problems, accidents and financial problems but has found the way to a beautiful life. She feels it is due to God’s love and guidance. The author especially thanks dear friend, Linda, and husband, Eric for their support in the preparation of this book.

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    From Breathing to Believing - Hope Holloway

    Copyright © 2021 Hope Holloway.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

    any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

    recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

    without the written permission of the author except in the case of

    brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author

    and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of

    the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of

    people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

    WestBow Press

    A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.westbowpress.com

    844-714-3454

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

    links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

    may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

    of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

    and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

    models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-6642-2637-1 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6642-2639-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-6642-2638-8 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2021904587

    WestBow Press rev. date: 03/16/2021

    THIS BOOK IS

    DEDICATED TO MY

    Children, grandchild, great-grandchildren

    and my wonderful husband.

    Contents

    Preface

    Chapter 1 Happy Anniversary

    Chapter 2 College Days and How They Met

    Chapter 3 The Wedding

    Chapter 4 The Dress

    Chapter 5 Who Was Nathan?

    Chapter 6 The Military Life

    Chapter 7 My Children

    Chapter 8 My New Almost Single Life

    Chapter 9 Growing Up

    Chapter 10 My Siblings

    Chapter 11 You Can’t Pick Your Relatives

    Chapter 12 High School Class of 1956

    Chapter 13 Marriage to Kurt

    Chapter 14 Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

    Chapter 15 Occupations/Careers

    Chapter 16 My Acting & Painting Career

    Chapter 17 Retirement

    Chapter 18 Life is One Wonderful Vacation After Another

    Chapter 19 My Thoughts

    Preface

    This is the story of a good girl, born to good parents. She has a nice childhood with some qualifications, some advantages. Girl meets boy and the story gets complicated. There is a happy ending. What is unique about the life of this girl is that her deep faith in God gave her determination through the hard times again and again. This story may be an inspiration to young people of today.

    1

    Happy Anniversary

    It was 1961 and late afternoon of our Fourth Wedding Anniversary. I was in the kitchen preparing for an early dinner. It would be as special as a very limited budget would allow. There was no chance Nathan and I would be going out for a romantic dinner. There would certainly be no romance, in any case. That had been established quite a while ago when I had made a loving gesture and was told to never do that again. The incident was never mentioned again. No why. No why not.

    About 5:30 in the evening, Nathan strode in dressed in a hot, dusty flight suit from a day at the flight line. Strode describes his entrance quite well. It was authoritative with swagger. He greeted no one, which was typical. For four years he had been cold, disinterested and bored at home. It seemed he stayed away whenever he could under the guise of a training class that would help towards promotion. At the time, I respected that his motives were career-oriented and I supported that. I never complained because I knew the rules before we were married about how to support your husband’s career.

    Tossing his helmet on the rent to own couch he walked over to where I was standing in the living room to greet him. I asked, Hi, how was your day? Pulling himself up to his full 6’2 height and standing about a foot in front of me, he spat out the words without a preface, I don’t love you. I don’t think I ever loved you. Then in an almost conciliatory tone, he said, You’re really a wonderful mother." There was no shouting, only this factual statement. His eyes were dead. He never really saw me or the children.

    He always seemed to look past us.

    Then he hurled himself on the couch and took a nap. And a Happy Fourth Wedding Anniversary to you, I thought. Stunned, devastated, unable to cry, I walked into the kitchen as though it was another planet. I turned off the stove. Nathan would be going on to the next Air Force Base soon. Where would the children and I be? There was never a mention of us joining him or mention of any preparations for the next move. I assumed it was a three, or, four- month school. I learned later that it was a regular change of Duty Station not a temporary assignment. I liked our little rental house, but nothing was ever permanent for an up-and-coming pilot in those days.

    Then I guess I need to pack up and leave I muttered. I can’t stay here but there was no response from the couch. There would be no talk of counseling, trying to work things out. It was over for Nathan forever. Probably, it was over for him four years ago. I wondered when the hurt and longing for a real husband and father would be over for me and the children. They were just two and three years old. Sometimes I wondered if he married me after graduation from the Academy just to be like so many of the other guys who were having the big military weddings.

    I was twenty-two years old, had secretarial skills and a little college, but I would not be able to earn enough to support these two children. How would there be money for food, rent, a car, insurance and babysitters? There was no insurance to pay for my broken heart and the upheaval and confusion the children would go through. At least now when Maggie cried, she wouldn’t have to hear Nathan yell at her, Stifle! Years later, I heard that word on a TV show.

    I’m not going to collapse, just breathe and think I told myself. John F. Kennedy said, Not a call to battle, but embattled we are. Yes, I guess we are, not so much with each other, but each at war within themselves to climb out of this present life into a new one.

    The children continued to play quietly on the living room floor…Maggie with her Chatty Cathy doll and Mark on his Hobby Horse. I couldn’t think about our future in detail just yet. I needed to get through this night. I fed the children and put them to bed. We always said our night prayer together even when they were babies. It was a prayer my parents taught me and my siblings.

    Angel of God my guardian dear, to whom God’s love commits me here….

    Now, I sat staring at the TV, but not seeing, not hearing. Finally, I went to bed and slept fitfully. As a young mother of two small children, it was nothing for me to be awakened by a crying child anyway. Nathan slept hard. I think he’d wanted to say this to me for a long time and now was relieved that the words were finally said.

    Nathan, my husband, was never the cadet who swept me off my feet and said on our honeymoon, I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. He was not the cadet who shared his dreams about a military career with me. He wanted to fly jet airplanes more than anything. He had a brilliant mind and was selected for special training. His mother told me soon after we were married, Nathan is going to be a Brigadier General! That worried me because I had a gut feeling it was his mother’s dream, not Nathan’s dream. Why didn’t I ask him about this? Why didn’t I ask her about it?

    The next morning, I thought about what I would be missing. I would not go to any more Club luncheons and there would be no more evening bridge with friends. I didn’t have a big social life, but it was good to get out of the house occasionally and talk to adults. They were all very nice and a lot of fun. Finding a babysitter was difficult in strange towns and the base nursery usually meant sniffles for the kids a few days after their visit. When Nathan was on temporary duty somewhere, I was usually home the whole time. No one but my mother contacted me for weeks. I would miss being a full-time mother. Now a babysitter would raise my babies eight to ten hours a day.

    At least my Kiss Off was different from the one I heard from others. The Classic being I’m sorry but I’m going to have to let you go! I thought mine was a good second.

    In those days it was not protocol for an Officer to push a baby carriage, carry groceries, etc., while in uniform. I know this because prior to our wedding I was given a book called "The Officer’s Wife". It was to familiarize new brides with the social etiquette of military life in or out of uniform. I wanted to be the perfect wife, so I read the book often to be ready for any social situation. I aimed to be the military version of June Cleaver of Leave It to Beaver TV fame. It was my job.

    Nathan would move on now to more schools, more flying, more promotions and more happy hours at the Officer’s Club. He would not have to go home to a wife and children, at least not me and these children. I will never understand why, when Nathan seemed so in love with me, that once we began a real life together his interest faded. Did he not expect that I would be pregnant right away? Well, neither did I. Did married life not meet his expectations? All I know is once we got down to everyday life, he lost all interest. I also wondered if he had a gambling problem, or if, maybe, he used gambling as a reason to not come home until very late. Having overheard a phone conversation, he had with someone shortly after we were married, I wondered if he felt he made a mistake marrying me and really loved someone else all along.

    I have never known any man who was so remote with his wife and children. I was young and naïve so I didn’t have a lot of experience or anything to compare married life with other than seeing my parent’s marriage. Dad was not in the military, but had to be out of town many nights. Mother accepted this as part of his job as I did with Nathan. I thought I needed to be ever loving, ever accepting, to support Nathan’s career.

    I saw the change in Nathan and our relationship once I became pregnant the first time. I never found a reason, but I was no psychologist. He did not like to delve into personal issues. I have since heard that this can happen to some men with mother issues when their wife becomes pregnant. I accepted this explanation. What else could I do?

    Reveille sounded at 0600 the next morning after the final Wedding Anniversary celebration. Mommy, I up! I heard from the next room and bounded to my feet ready for another day. First, I went to Mark’s room where he was already crawling over the side of his crib and Maggie was standing with her doll in her arms in the doorway. Mommmmmy, brefisk time. A quick diaper change for Mark, a quick visit to the potty for Maggie, then it was my turn. Mark running at a sprint with the toilet paper roll was almost to the living room when I stopped him. Maggie was trying to help me by standing at the ready with a handful of toilet tissue. Their energy had no bounds and they were ready to get on with the day. I was very happy to have these moments of normalcy.

    In the kitchen I poured Cheerios in small bowls and a glass of orange juice for each of the children. Mark in the high chair was already rocking it, and Maggie was kneeling on the chair at the chrome legged 1950s style table. She was a big girl now at two and a half years old. She was the patient one. Mark, at not quite two years old was Mr. Energy. They were happy. For them this day was no different than any other. Their eyes sparkled with the fun we were going to have today. Now, it was my added goal to keep it that way for them forever. I was young and optimistic. The goal was unobtainable.

    While I cleaned up the kitchen the children played quietly. Then we got dressed. Is everyone ready to work out? Let’s get down on the floor and see what Jack LaLanne is going to have us do today. Jack was on TV every morning. We did crunches, leg lifts, and jumping jacks for a good thirty minutes. Even the dog, Charley, was on his back imitating us. Ironically, over forty years later, I met Jack and his wife, Elaine at Home Shopping Network where I was working as a model.

    After a little juice and graham crackers I asked, Who’s ready to go for a walk to the park? It was just two blocks away and both children ran to the porch to hop into the stroller. The park had lovely shade trees. We played on the swings and a slide. It also gave me a chance to calm down. I thought it would be soothing as well as fun for the children to be outdoors too.

    It was already getting hot, so we headed home to make the beds, clean up the house and play quietly before lunch. I suggested to Maggie, why don’t you pick out a book we can read after lunch? She picked out a Little Golden Book, The Poky Little Puppy. She sat next to me on the couch, sometimes for hours, shouting out the words she had memorized from the story. Mark was wiggly, so he listened for a while then played with his toys. He was listening to the story, though. I felt so much love for these two children especially that day. I felt so thankful to God for giving me these two tiny angels.

    After the children were settled in for a nap, I sat thinking about my life with Nathan, but also about how I would leave. What must I do first? After careful consideration, I called my mother. I asked if the children and I could come back home to live with them while I acquired a job and housing. She said, Yes, of course.

    After the phone call, I sat remembering one day, out of nowhere and in a burst of anger about whatever, Nathan said, You need to go back to college! My retort was, With what money and by the way, where will the children be during that time, who will pay for the schooling, the day care and where will I get a car? Nathan, we can’t afford that!" End of conversation. He didn’t mention it again. He knew I was right. I assumed I was not enough for him just the way I was right now. What did he want me to be? All I knew for sure was that he wanted me gone.

    Nathan was under a lot of pressure learning to fly and learning to be a flight instructor. I didn’t question his working hours and there were many days and weeks he went to special schools, or so he said. When he was gone, he never called. I thought it was because he had complete faith in my ability to cope with anything. Now I wondered if he was just glad to get away and didn’t care what was happening at home.

    There was another explosion of temper. Something angered Nathan one afternoon. When he arrived home, he stormed down the hall towards the master bedroom. The door was closed to keep the children from playing in there or the dog from chewing things. There was never hello or Hi, kids. He punched a hole right through the bedroom door. On the way down the hall, he did not unbutton his shirt, and in his fit of anger tore the shirt off his body as buttons flew everywhere. I had no experience with these outbursts growing up or in the beginning of our marriage and was stunned. He would not discuss it with me. He came out of the bedroom dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, flung himself on the couch and fell asleep, or pretended to fall asleep. There was no discussing any reasons, causes, feelings that prompted this episode. Was this getting to be a pattern? Oh, yes…. I made the shirt for him. The damage to the shirt showed me how little regard he had for me already.

    Nathan applied for leave time to drive us to my parent’s home. I asked him if he would give me the car and I would drive the children and myself to Michigan. He would not have to take leave. He said, Absolutely not. I believe he was worried about his image if it looked like I left him. He had an older car that he now drove to the Base every day. I believe he wanted it to look like a noble act on his part. No, he did not want me to have the good car. Still, I wondered, Does this really mean divorce – could it be a cooling off? Maybe things will work out? Maybe a little separation will help him realize he really does want us?

    Nathan didn’t deal in explanations. He seemed to be relieved now and he did not want to hear what I thought. There was no discussion about money or how our children would be fed and clothed. To this very day I don’t know why. I have never been able to explain it to my children. We were not his responsibility any more he thought, but they weren’t my parent’s responsibility either. I didn’t remind him that he still owed my father $700 for bailing him out of unpaid Officer’s Club bills, but I should have. He never in his entire life paid my father back. My father loaned the money thinking Nathan was an honorable man. Nathan told me he would face Courts Martial if he did not pay the bill. My family was comfortable financially, but not rich. They sent the money quickly.

    Moving was an ordinary and on-going experience for a young Officer and family. Most of the time the family could accompany the pilot, but sometimes there were three-month training sessions when family was left behind. The families coped. Life goes on. This move would not phase me I told myself. Change was a challenge; the change was on-going. The only packing I could do at this time was for clothing for the children and me, plus a few toys and baby supplies. Nathan told me he would have the furniture and other household items shipped when I had a place to live.

    Winding our way from our home to my parents’ home was actually a rather pleasant two-day trip. No fighting, just comments about the scenery and listening to the children chatter about the view. Cows, Mommy! Maggie said with her little southern accent.

    We stayed in a motel just one night. The room had two beds, one for the children and one for us, or one bed for all of us and one bed for all the roaches scurrying around the room.

    Arriving at my parent’s house the next afternoon, I took the children inside first. Nathan helped unload the car, but did not go into the house. He said to me, Bye so casually it sounded as though he’d be back in a few minutes. He did not say Goodbye to the children or my parents. I stood in the driveway watching the car pull out and go down the street. He was headed back to the Base to start his new life. Where do I go from here?

    Days and months went by with no word or money from Nathan. Mom and Dad mentioned over breakfast the first day we were at their house that the house had sold and they would be moving into a new house closer to town. I hadn’t had time to think about a job, an apartment or a babysitter. I hadn’t even cried yet. Well, I can certainly help with the move. Each day flew by as I packed dishes, pots and pans and household items and arranged them in boxes for the truckers. The movers would take the heavy items of furniture. I had a lot of moving experience as a military wife, so I worked hard doing what I knew how to do. It was a little therapy for me.

    The children didn’t seem to exhibit uneasiness with this move. They had aunts and uncles to play with them and grandparents to help me maintain a routine for them.

    My dad came home from work one day and after changing from his suit into more casual clothes, he popped off the top of a beer and said, Don’t think you’re going to live here. I give you three months and then you’ve got to have a job and a place to live. I’ll take you to work while you’re here and then from your job you’ll have money for a car.

    To me it sounded like no compassion, but he was preparing me for being independent and taking care of my own children. I guess the summer jobs were a hint. Maybe I should have stayed in college instead of marrying, I thought. In the 1950s, I never heard about divorce or women working to support their children. I felt as though it was a scandal. I learned later that I was sheltered and naïve.

    My mother chimed in by saying, I don’t mind babysitting in an emergency, but I raised my children, now you raise yours. You’ll just have to manage, but of course, if the children are sick and you need to go to work, I’ll certainly help. This was real life and I was scared.

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