March 18, 1965

Adulting at last

March 18, 1965

I talked to V again this afternoon - for almost 1/2 an hour! He's very nice. At least he's not a disappointment like most boys are. We have a lot in common - "disharmony" in the home, no more than 3 years in one school, our dislike for this hick town. Maybe it will work yet! Ojalá que sí. Tengo que acostarme hora. Son las once y estoy muy cansada. Buenos noches.

March 18, 1997

I know Sarah is right about “pricking my finger” on something an shutting down. But what was  it? When was it? I can trace it back to my sabbatical, my mother’s breakdown…but why, why, why? Something happened between 1986 and 1987, and I still don’t understand it. I am not even sure if it would help to understand it. But I will take a look at my vita and try to sort it out.

March 18, 2023

No, it doesn’t help to understand it. What happened in that academic year is that I had a glimpse of the future that scared the bejesus out of me. My mother experienced her first major depression since I was in eighth grade. In 1962, she was hospitalized for several weeks after a suicide attempt. Twenty-four years later, she called me up one day and said she was going into a depression and needed to see a doctor. I was seven months pregnant and it was just a few weeks into the fall semester. My daughter was four. She stayed with us for several days, until she started talking about taking her own life. Consulting with her doctor, I checked her into the psych unit at a local hospital, where she stayed until her insurance ran out. Then she stayed with us another week, still no better. At my eight-month check-up, I found that I had lost five pounds. My doctor said, in so many words “It’s your mother or this baby”. So I drove my mother back to the psych unit, knowing that she would be transferred to only place that would take her - the state mental hospital. I told her we were going to movies to get her into the car, and set the child locks so she couldn’t jump out. At the hospital, she pleaded to go to the movies as they took her away. I cried all the way home. By the time my son was born, she was well enough to visit for Thanksgiving. Two weeks later she was discharged, finally whole again.

Yes, something happened that derailed me and left a gap in my CV. I managed to take care of my family, though, and that wasn’t nothing. 1986: the year I finally grew up.