The Many Shades of "MI VIDA"

By Vida Darlene M. Chessher

The Many Shades of 'Mi Vida'

In her riveting memoir, Vida Darlene lays bare the stark realities of her tumultuous life, marked by addiction, family secr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Woodbridge Publishers
• Release date: May 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869375995

Book preview

The Many Shades of

‘MI VIDA’

Vida Darlene Chessher

Woodbridge Publishers

1280 Lexington Ave STE 2

New York, NY 10028

Copyright © 2024 Vida Darlene Chessher

All rights reserved.

First Edition

ISBN (Paperback)

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Under no circumstances will any blame or legal responsibility be held against the publisher, or author, for any damages, reparation, or monetary loss due to the information contained within this book, either directly or indirectly.

Dedications

To Each Reader

To each child whose innocence was taken and who has been robbed of childhood.

May you learn to live with these memories but not let them control your world.

Writing this book has given me the freedom I've always desired. May you find your freedom as well.

Acknowledgements

I am indeed a happier person today because of writing about my life. The good the bad and the ugly. It is never easy to look at past traumas without experiencing emotional instability.

I would not have been able to finish this project without many of my family members who shared their thoughts and memories with me. I am truly grateful to each and every one of you. Never have you judged me, even when I was at my worst. For this I thank you, and I’m forever grateful!

To my dear husband, the person who has paid the price of all my trauma and unfinished issues early in our marriage. Who always stood beside me and sometimes had to hold me up when I was crashing. The person who showed me what love is with words and actions. Who loved me strong enough and long enough until I loved myself.

To all who read my life’s story and gain freedom or strength. I’m forever grateful.

Vida Darlene

Table of Contents

Dedications To Each Reader

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1 The End

Chapter 2 Uncertainty

Chapter 3 Ultimate Betrayal

Chapter 4 Secrets

Chapter 5 Escape

Chapter 6 Lies

Chapter 7 Normal

Chapter 8 The Seed

Chapter 9 Venture

Chapter 10 Disillusion

Chapter 11 Lucky

Chapter 12 Embarrassment

Chapter 13 Letting Go

Intermission

Chapter 14 The Beginning

Chapter 15 Understanding

Chapter 16 Sobriety

Chapter 17 Forgiveness

Chapter 18 Trusting

Chapter 19 Adulthood

Chapter 20 Here I Am

Chapter 21 Blessings

Chapter 22 Saying goodbye

Chapter 23 Acceptance

Chapter 24 Truly Believe

Chapter 25 Season

Chapter 26 Faith

Chapter 27 Valley

Chapter 28 Protectors

Chapter 1

The End

I was three and full of energy, running around our backyard on a warm summer day in the Deep South. Laughing, playing, and singing while Mom hung clothes out to dry, humming to the music in her head. One of her favorite songs was Up on the Roof by the Drifters and Let’s Twist Again by Chubby Checker. My mother was quite the looker, stunning I would say, and she always, always did her hair and makeup before we awoke for the day. I always remember her long, thick, dark-brown hair with big brown eyes and thick eyebrows to set off her stunning beauty. My oldest brother (Bobby Jr., but we called him Scotty), a name my mother loved, was two years older than I and was five almost six at that time. He had the assignment of watching my baby brother (Michael, who was eighteen months younger) and me. This was a job he took very seriously, and little did he know, a job he accepted on this day for life. For the most part of our lives, he has done a fair job of it. This day was about to take us on a journey that would shape us all for our time here on earth.

I looked up to see my Aunt Helen, Daddy’s sister-in-law, who was married to his oldest brother, O’Neal. She was a pretty lady, tall with dark red hair and ivory skin, a few years older than my mom, but nowhere near the beauty my mom was. She gathered us kids up after talking to Mom for just a short minute.

We knew something was not right; we could sense the mood change. Then Mom began moving around the house, talking out loud to herself, but not sure what she was saying, nor did it make any sense to anyone. I have heard tales of a breakdown Mom had after Michael, my baby brother, was born. She was hospitalized for a brief time, and doctors introduced her to Lithium, a medication to keep her in a calm state when feeling anxious. Mom had a hard pregnancy with Michael, and to top it off, he was born breech. They both were at risk when she was delivering him.

So confused, my brothers and I were by this change of moods. Was she having another one? A breakdown right here on this beautiful day? Everything was so perfect before my Aunt Helen showed up. What could be going on, why this behavior? A breakdown over less than a minute’s worth of conversation with Helen? No, something worse had happened. She had to tell her three children goodbye, not knowing when she would see us again, crying like a child herself. My Aunt took us into the house while Mom was driven off to be with our Dad. All we (the kids) were told after Mom left was that Dad had had an accident at work and was at the hospital.

My dad was a strong young man working construction, and he also served in the National Guard. A good-looking man, you know the type, a football stud with blonde hair and blue eyes, he stood a strong 5 foot, 11 inches and weighed 195 pounds. Yes, mom loved the bad boys, and he was one of them. Mom was a stunning beauty. She stood 5 ft. 1 and weighed every bit of 105 pounds. She was a cheerleader and extremely popular, as was my dad. He, the star football player, could have had any girl on campus. I have heard tales that he tried, and mom was one of many who gave way to those beautiful blue eyes. They began to date when my mom and her first love, Bascom Cobb, broke it off. He was another tall, handsome fella that always wanted mom, even after she and my dad started dating. But egos get involved with young studs and my dad was not about to let this one get away. Not to this fella from Bibb City. So, he could brag about how he won mom's love away from Bobby Neal, the star football stud. I hear small name-calling and small fights with the two young studs. My mom was a sure keeper, and they both knew it. I wonder myself from time to time if she felt that she chose the wrong stud.

Well, Bobby (my dad) and Faye (my mom) had a couple nights of romance without any protection and yes, she got pregnant with my brother. My dad was an honorable man, or should I say my grandfather was an honorable man who made sure the two were married. Their love grew, they seemed to be happy. We moved from a rental two bedroom to a mortgaged three -bedroom. A wonderful neighborhood with lots of children around our age. What a blast we would have playing outside with all the kids in the neighborhood. This was a tiny area of the city that was off any busy road, so the streets were mostly empty of traffic. My grandfather and grandmother made it a point to come to our home every Sunday afternoon for a visit, even if we had been at their home on Saturday for a cookout. I believe they came to keep Dad in check. Two more children and five years later, the life they had built seemed to be a good one. They had fun with neighbors who had children and went through growing pains just as they did. Until this day. On this day, the world would change. And the life they were building came tumbling down. Yes, he was in a horrific accident at work.

The construction crew Daddy worked for was Wright Associates out of Columbus, Georgia. My grandfather’s brother was part owner, and my grandfather was the foreman. They landed the largest job in Columbus at the time, building Columbus College, which was simply a junior college with 15 faculty members until 1963. It is known today as Columbus State University. While on top of the building, he and a few others were horsing around (found out years later) and holding onto the hook of the crane. They did this often and would act as if it were a large swing. While doing this on a hot June day in 1963, it lifted him off the building and out onto open sky. After a few minutes, he could not hold on any longer.

The crane operator did not know he was hanging on. The noise was too much for him to hear the cries of co-workers.

Dad then dropped, yes dropped, over 63 feet onto red Georgia clay. Thank God for Red Georgia clay. The clay is softer than solid ground. This aided in saving his life along with a few other things on site. One was he passed out before he landed feet first. Then, his father, my grandfather, knocks out his back teeth with a crowbar and turned his head to one side to allow the blood that was gathering in his mouth to flow out so he would not drown. More bones were broken than not in his legs and feet, and doctors worked by shifts for hours and hours to save him from death. Doctors were in disbelief that he would not die.

He was very strong-willed and refused to surrender. He stayed in the hospital for at least six months at first with countless operations to repair many broken bones and attach items that had come apart.

He stayed on morphine for prolonged periods and, as would be expected, became addicted. This would become another horrible experience for him and my mother. As days and weeks went by, my father would count the holes in the tiled ceiling. He told me one time on our visit how many he counted but was only a quarter way done and it was already in the thousands. He was never off medications long enough to keep up with where he could stop counting. After many months he was weaned off the heavy drugs. He grew very tired of being in this small 15x15 room. He tried to find things to keep his mind busy.

My father also read the Bible and several novels, and he became quite educated while lying in his hospital bed.

He also became very friendly with all the staff, and being the stud he was, he had a line of nurses to meet his manly needs. No one was surprised of this who really knew him. My dad stayed in a full body cast due to his broken back for some time. So, the nurses really had to work hard to make him happy. Not an easy task, I would say. But one he would have demanded.

He was sent home, with the maggot treatments, only to return more times than I can count. He finally lost the foot they had been trying to save with the treatments.

We visited him only a couple of times while at the hospital, due to his being in severe pain and on so many painkillers. He was not ready for three young kids. We also were not at home when he was finally released. He was home for a short time and then back again to have more procedures.

He was not the nicest patient to my mother once home. Rather home for one month or two. He just could not be kind to the one who worked tirelessly nursing him back to health. He threw at her plates of food she prepared for him. He cursed her, like for some reason blaming her for his condition. Hell, yes it was hell that my mother was experiencing.

Chapter 2

Uncertainty

Our first train ride all the way to Miami was a thrill. We, of course, did not understand but knew we wanted this vacation. It was fun times in Miami with our grandmother, our aunt Jo Ellen, who was 14, and Uncle Tommy, 17. My uncle had a convertible, a horse, and a pretty girlfriend, Rona, who became my aunt a few years later.

I was in heaven doing anything to win his attention and conning him into including us in whatever his adventures were on any given day. My grandmother had moved to Miami after the loss of my grandfather to a heart attack at an early age.

She drank herself right out of Columbus, Georgia’s good graces. She was a widow with five children ages two to 18.

Miami was a fun place to be in the sixties and we were having a wonderful time, loving the beach, watermelons, hot dogs, and Burger King Whoppers. My oldest brother and I both celebrated birthdays there on the beach. I remember them well with grandma, Arnold, and we are playing in the sand. Children being children without a care in the world. Arnold was my grandma’s companion, who she brought to Miami from Columbus. He was a survivor of the war THE BIG ONE and had been injured by the enemy from a grenade blast. He ended up with a steel plate in his head and numerous problems. He was on many prescription medications he took daily.

Arnold was a nice