RICO, DEAR LAD
I met my Children's father on the Elevated Train, called the "El", in Chicago. I was on my way to Loyola University to take a Russian class. I had heard that Russian would be a good language for nurses to know in the future. I was busy, at the time, learning things whenever I could, towards a bright scholastic and professional future. having that kind of restless intelligence. The Kid's dad was on his way there too, to take one of his courses towards his MA in Latin American Poetry, or something like that. The MA would have been about Lorca...well, that's another story...Anyway, we spotted each other across a crowded, literally, "El" train, and it was the evening. He was nicely dressed and looked quite handsome and was smiling at me. I was wearing my European-style wool coat and a fluffy-furred hat to keep my long-blonde-haired head warm. I was smiling back, in spite of myself. I got up to get off at a stop, and he walked up behind me and said, "Well, anyway, your long hair is very becoming." I looked back at him, smiling, and said, "I never wanted to talk with a strange man on the "El" before!" He said, "Would you like to go and get some coffee?". And I said Yes.
We got off together at the stop and looked around. I looked at him, chagrined, saying, "This isn't my stop." He laughed and said, "That's OK. It isn't my stop either!" Then he told me where he had been heading and why, and I told him where I had been heading and why. "Let's see if there's a coffee shop below." We walked down the stairs, where there actually was a coffee shop! He bowed to me and told me his name. I told him my name.
Three hours later we closed the shop. We hadn't made it to our classes. He had written two poems for me on napkins. We had told each other all about our lives and loves and general pasts. We were smitten. Although, I didn't give myself entirely away, I have to say...for some reason, I hadn't liked his laugh. Also, he told me he had a temper, and told me some of the reasons his wife had divorced him. These problems didn't seem too bad though...just not that delightful. I was really pretty sold on him. I was young, barely twenty. He was nine years older. I liked that. I had such little experience... He had three kids. I actually liked that, because he seemed very devoted to them. I already was a person who really enjoyed children quite a bit...And, he told me about his room-mate, his good friend, Tio Rico, who was really Richard...an ex-monk from Ireland. To have interesting best friends is a good thing, I thought...
We exchanged numbers, and he invited me to 'Tea' the next night with Tio Rico. We picked a place. He accompanied me to the train, and off we went in our separate directions. When I came home, I told my room-mate and best friend, Barbara about my adventure. She was cautious but enthusiastic for me. I could hardly wait to meet Tio Rico! (Already, you may be able to spot a wee bit of a problem here...)....
What a great time I had with my new and probable boyfriend, and with Tio Rico! a small, slight fellow with curly brown hair. a thin, terrier-like frame. restless brown eyes. quiet small hands. severe black suit and polished black shoes. a bright flash of a grin. the best jokes since my high-school sweetheart's! he made me giggle with joy! a poet! a reader. so full of fun! ah, the Irish brogue! it was lovely!
He was called "Tio Rico" by my new fellow's children...the "Rich Uncle". Half-Panamanian, they had named him in Spanish, for fun. he was actually poor as a church mouse. he worked as a school psychologist. he was bright as a penny. shiney and sparkly with wit and wisdoms...
I was smitten.
So now, we were a three-some! Well, my two fellows had no problem dividing up their chosen devotions to their new Lady. My kid's dad got all the sex and the name of boyfriend and all the dreams and plans and hopes for the future and the built-in family. Tio Rico got all the joke-telling. the giggles. the long, loverly conversations. the throwing the potatoes and sweet potatoes into into the oven for dinner and pulling them out all hot and wonderful and smothering them in butter. the cabbages boiled half-to-death. and the sweeping the house together. and the singing Irish songs - he, off key... the snow angels in the snow on Barbara's and my deck. the serious and kind confidences shared...all the connections that sow the seeds for a lifetime of deep friendship... I was too young to notice that, somehow, when you put these two men together, you had a complete and healthy Lad...way too young to notice that....
The young sow seeds that they can barely nurture correctly, much less tend to the harvest...ah, the harvest...we shall call that 'The Wedding'....
We eloped. that is, the kid's dad and I. we were married before a Justice of the Peace, in Evanston, Illinois. We eloped because my mother would have sent my dad to kill us. on account of my new husband was not Catholic. was divorced. had three kids. was nine years older than I. and, she had thought he was too 'aggressive', when they had met him. My father had not been wild about him, as well. he had liked Tio Rico, though. I should have paid attention to this judgement of my dad's. he was usually right about people. But, as I said, I was still a bit young. Under twenty-one, a lot may flow over you without you being aware of the importance of things, not a whit.
Barbara was one of our witnesses. Tio Rico was there, but said he could not be a witness, due to his Catholic upbringing. At first I thought he was joking, but he said 'not'...so our other witness was a Christian Brother named Giles, a good friend from my husband's school where he taught Spanish...Giles was Catholic too...for that matter, so was Barbara, more or less...anyway, just we five happy young people were there. Every time the kid's dad gave a response, it was, "I certainly do!" I wasn't quite as excited, although I felt happy. Whatever was missing...was escaping my attention....
So, off the Three of us went for our Honeymoon in Wisconsin. Yes. I said the Three Of Us. Without a thought in our heads, we had decided that, of course, Tio Rico would come with us on our Honeymoon. Before you start thinking crazier than we, recall: we Three Musketeers were playing Roles in this Play of ours. We knew not what we were doing. But: one was the husband. one was the wife. one was the friend...
We landed first at my new husband's mother's home in Portage, Wisconsin.She had met me once before, and hadn't been too thrilled about my place in her son's life. She had told me that his former wife had only divorced him "to teach him a lesson." Apparently they all thought that she, a beautiful and very elite Panamanian woman, was the best match for my now new husband. While she wasn't exactly mean, she did inform me that, "You have made your bed, and now you are just going to have to lie in it." This did not seem to be a promising omen! But still, I had my fellows at my side, so I felt confident and happy. She allowed us to sleep in her guest room "since you are married and all...", and we all went to sleep.
The plan was that Rico would stay in Portage with her overnight, while the kid's dad and I would go to a little cabin in the woods for a proper Honeymoon night. I was excited and pleased with this plan. We packed the car. We both kissed Tio Rico so-long. We got into the car. I Ieaned out to wave good bye. Then I saw his face...
A more forlorn face, I have never seen again in this lifetime. His merry eyes were deeply sad. His pale face was drawn into a private sorrow that he could not hide anymore...Suddenly, every thing. Every Thing. became clear to me. Very Clear. Leaving Tio Rico behind meant tearing a piece out of my heart. This was not a marriage of two people. it was a marriage of three people. And, that could not be. it would not be. still, it was. Worse still. I was pulling away from the curb with the wrong choice....
I was shocked to the core of my young self. I was breathless with the sorrow. I had no other thoughts then those I have just spoken. It was Tio Rico, all along. Timing. his persistent and damning Catholicism. his sense of honor. his choices had so influenced my younger choices. I had not seen. but he had seen all along. and he had suffered. he was suffering now.
The little cabin on a lake was sweet and cozy. I wasn't feeling too well, but we made love, of course. In the morning I still wasn't too well, so I slept-in. The kid's dad took a photo of me sleeping under the down coverlet, with a sign across me that he had painted with the 'title' of an ee cumming's poem: JUST SPRING...It was just Spring, in more ways then one....
Tio Rico went back to Chicago by train. We had a nice dinner with all of the relatives, hastily put together by 'Ma' and all the Aunts, with good will and curiosity about "Katey" as they had christened me...I felt a little sick to my stomach, but it was pleasant to be welcomed a bit....
On the way back to Chicago, I threw up with abandon! Concerned and upset at my inability to stop vomiting, we pulled into an emergency room...the doctor saw me right away...He took a couple of tests, and then came back, smiling! He chortled at me, "And you say you're a nurse! Can't you figure out what's happening?" I looked at him blankly. "You're pregnant!", he enthused! "I can't be.", I informed him gravely. "We just got married a couple of days ago." This comment brought on waves of laughter all around! But I was serious! I had a scanty period a week just before the wedding. I assumed it had been scanty due to the excitement of the wedding plans! At this point, he checked me out to be sure everything was OK. It was. I was pregnant alright. My life was changing rapidly, right before my very eyes.
Of course, now, for all practical purposes, we had four kids. My husband had his three kids every other weekend, and, now that he had a wife, he was going to have them most of the summer as well...he wanted to move to Wisconsin. I decided to make a good life for us, all of us. I was determined not to let my little growing child 'down' for a second. She or he would have the best life ever. And, his three kids would be my kids whenever they were with me. I transferred all my insights about my Tio Rico into a plan to be totally responsible to family. to be alert. to be aware of their every need. to give. to give. to give. and Tio Rico too. he was to be the 'uncle' of our child as well.
We moved to a little cabin on a lake. There were times I was happy there. There were times when my kid's dad's temper was a terror. I soon learned to stick up for my self, and was determined that his angers would not touch his children. I learned to speak my mind. and, first, to Know my mind. I did not want to be surprised by my own carelessness again. I was grown up now.
Tio Rico was a grand 'uncle' for the children, especially for our new daughter. He was her Godfather - my choice - and held her for her christening... it was symbolic for me... he was in our life often. always the finely-tuned joke. always the wry, kind grin. always the understanding eyes. He was 'going with' a lady we were all learning to love to...Carole was a wonderful 'earth-mother' type of woman, shy and kind and deeply appreciative of his heart and his humor. But, she was not a Catholic. Rico could not change his ways. he tried. but marrying a Protestant was too much for him to handle. he broke-up with her. we were all sad for him...
I wish I could say he married a fine woman. I am sorry that I can't. He married a former Catholic Nun from a teaching order. a red-headed lady who seemed too bossy and too cold to me. but, no one but Carole was good enough for 'my' Rico. Carole was enough like me to be a cheerful choice for a wife. This lady was not...but, we had flown to their wedding while I was pregnant for the second time. I was soon so busy with our two baby girls, only eleven months apart, and the three growing step-children, who I love dearly...
Besides, we now had a small truck-farm in Wisconsin, and an apartment in the city as well. Besides all this, I worked full and part-time to meet our growing responsibilities. The kid's dad was a money-spender and impulsive. it took all my abilities, intelligence, energies, and love, just to stage-manage our lives into normalcy! Sometimes the kid's dad was creative and fun and responsible. at other times, he was angry, impulsively destructive, and even unstable...there wasn't much time to give to old friends, although they did try to be there for us all of the time...my Tio Rico and Barbara especially...
He and she both started growing away from him. It was hard for them to be around him when he was manic. It was tiring for these two gentle, old friends. Tio Rico finally pulled away all together. We saw him rarely...Back in Chicago, our life as a couple was growing apart precipitously.
He was traveling to the farm with busses of kids, and was angry if I minded the expense. He crashed parts of the car into things, and thought nothing of it. My friends, who knew a diagnosis when they saw it, decided he was manic-depressive...but he wouldn't go to be evaluated, even when I made it clear that he might lose us. I had to do something to be sure the kids were safe...well this part is another story, but bear with me...over time, over time...and then, I moved out with the kids...by then, we had three, all under age six...I had to hold together for them. That's all I could think. I made us a little, sweet home in the city, and began a new life for us. We saw the three older kids whenever we could...Tio Rico and Barbara were there in our lives again...we rebuilt, bit by bit....
Tio Rico was still married of course. He was not happy, and he was honest about that. But, they had a son. And, he was Catholic. And, besides, we had never said a word. Not one word. Nothing about love. Nothing about that day so long ago in Wisconsin. We had never said one word. We still have not...
I left Chicago with a doctor who was my boyfriend at the time...my first boyfriend after the divorce. He was such a great, good-hearted, normal guy! and so intelligent and educated! (I was still somewhat enamored of such credentials at that time of life...). His long history of unfaithfulness to other girlfriends and his indifferent love-making would soon change under my fine love. many a lady brighter than I has made such an error of judgement. But still, he did help us mightily, and he did more us out to California. I actually could not afford one more winter's heating bills and replacements of lost mittens! This meant I did leave my step-kids, Tio Rico, and Barbara, though. not to mention my whole first family - parents and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins...but I wanted badly to put miles and miles between the kids and me and their father. I sold him our farm for a dollar, if he would only not go for joint custody, and would permit us to move out-of-state...he did.
Barbara came out to visit often to our home in Oakland...my family came out to see us when they could, for vacations...I only saw the step-kids a few times when I came back to the Midwest...I saw Barbara and my family in the Midwest...I rarely saw Tio Rico. He was ensconced in his marriage it seemed...he did come back to attend my wedding to my second husband, with his son. My kids really, really did Not like his son...they found him spoiled, destructive, rude, and disobedient to his father. he was, in fact, exactly that way. The sorrow in my Tio Rico's eyes was there again. His patience and good heart were present. But, he seemed far away, in many ways...
Through the years, whenever I go to visit in the Midwest, I visit one day with Tio Rico. We often go to the Art Institute in Chicago. We walk about, looking at paintings and talking about...nothing, really. We often hold hands. When he met my last ex-husband but, he and Den, my Guy: they got along well. they still do. they really like each other in a gentle, Fun, kind way. Rico tells jokes again. they are very funny, and his grin comes back....
He sent me several poems over the years. Then, one Christmas (he always calls me at Christmas...), he told me that he had destroyed them, because he had a paranoid period where he thought they would be stolen by kids who were harassing him in his neighborhood...I found this news so sad, I could barely believe it! I made him promise to try to write again. His poems were pictures of his very soul...I do not know if he will ever keep this promise...
When I am back in Illinois, every time, I will see my Dear Lad. We will traipse about (his words) the Art Institute, perhaps, or have tea in the Russian Tea Room. We will talk about light things and sad things and happy things. I will scold him about not coming out to California to visit, since he is, after all, retired now. we will ask about each other's kids. we will gently hold hands as we slowly meander the past. we will touch very tenderly on the present...
no sense in disturbing the old ghosts of our past...what was in our hearts, our faces, on that fateful day...all memories. just memories.
I will kiss his lips when we say our gentle goodbyes, as I always do.
His dear lips always feel like dry leaves...
blowing away on some lost North Atlantic wind....
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