Chapter 11 – My Mother Dies 54 yrs old March 9, 1979

 

Mom contracted lung cancer from smoking. She never got fat, like most women do at middle age, she forestalled that with coffee & cigarettes, I rarely saw her eat, but she always had a cigarette & coffee by her side.

 

          I’ve spoke so much about how I prayed & offered atonement to God for her, that I’ll skip all that here & move on to something else. But what? I explained how she abused me, mostly in Part 3. Perhaps an overview is in order.

 

Mom & Dad were opposites in character. He was kind, gentle & non violent. He had a conscience; you could trust him with your life savings & your life. He was forgiving. He thought everything out, an intellectual, a book worm, nice, like Chips in ‘Good Bye, Mr. Chips.’

 

She was the opposite. Mean, aggressive, punching people with fists – NOT big people or villains, the little people who were gentle like Dad, or myself being a child. I recall one memory, I am 5, she has him on the floor on hands & knees, sitting on his back, punching him with her fists – he does not fight back.

He called her a ‘Tartar,’ which means like Genghis Kahn – Lithuanians thought of Tartars as barbarians. The other name was ‘Hitler,’ both of these he said in jest – but they were true. She even looked the part. She was not an intellectual or bookworm, but did join the ‘Book of the Month Club’ to master English – all of which I read, at 10-12 yrs old. The first book was Daphne DuMaurier’s ‘Rebecca,’ then ‘Gone With the Wind.’

 

          What was she like? All business, survival, no conscience. She did what she had to do, I recall no love but looking back, understand the only person she ever loved was my brother Jim –

{This did not stop her from blaming him for one of her pregnancies, lol – he was about 13. Every time she got pregnant she called it a ‘stomach tumor.’ She was sitting grimly one day seeking someone to blame, & she looks at Jim, & says,

“It’s your fault,”

and he whines in a high voice, like the coward he was,

“No, no, not my fault.”

 

 

I don’t know how she found the kitchen table abortionists – but she did, & afterward, I think that’s when she ended up in the hospital to finish the job, as once you’re bleeding, I guess they have to take you in.

 

I do not recall any affection to anyone – not to my Dad, not to her new guy Marius, not to any of us kids. She just talked & talked, brainwashing the other guys against Dad when they broke up – {which didn’t work on me, she hardly tried.} One time she gave me a

‘Paper Mate’pen for Valentines – I looked at it, it had 2 hearts, I cried, as it seemed like love.

 

She never punished anyone for abuse of me – she approved it. One time Jim was beating me up for some spurious reason. She saw it from afar –jumped in to help him, without even knowing the reason for the attack.

 

She was not kind to animals – I never saw her do a good deed to animals or humans. Nothing happened except what she wanted, bottom line; survival. Animals didn’t matter except the cow to take care of, use for milk, butter & cheese. Marius took care of the cow, when she was pregnant he beat her with a chain, then an iron bar right on her belly. He tied her up once so she couldn’t move a foot all night. I went to the barn as she kept mooing in pain. I tried to untie the knots, but had trouble. Can’t recall the outcome, did I get the knots open? I know I gave her fruit to calm her down. But I was the only one in our family who CARED about the animals. They were ABUSED.

 

Mom had ‘Lape’ – our first dog, named after a ‘Fox,’ her house right in the middle of the sun. Lape dug a huge den under the house to get out of the sun, had her frequent litters that way. She was never fixed, most of the puppies were taken into the swamp by her & Jim & drowned. Jim was also her right hand to slaughter the chickens. Both of them had no feelings. The word ‘psychopath’ applies.

 

She had no charity for anyone. Except once, I saw her give a half loaf of great Russian bread to a bum at our door, on Delancey St, Newark. But our neighbors in Freehold,

 

old folks, needed a ride for groceries, she said no. I was ashamed to tell them.

 

          Her last boyfriend {that I knew about} was Bill – a wonderful guy. She was getting kickbacks from a milkman. {Every Sunday all a milkman brings he brought to our house –milk, butter, cheese, & eggs.} She got him the contract for the school where she was now head Chef. It was his nephew Bill – He was the same age as Mom.

 

          She was in love with him, she cried when I told him he kissed his other lady friend. She sent me with him as a spy when he went to see this lady. {It was just like Dr. Zhivago, where he sees the villain kissing the daughter through two glass doors – Russian style because of the cold they did not have too many outer windows, needed light – while the Mom lies on a bed where he had just pumped her stomach from an overdose. The Villain was getting it on with the daughter, the similarity is the glass doors he sees through – Bill was kissing this other lady like that, lol.}

 

          I don’t know how I got so lucky to have Bill take me out bowling. He showed me how to hit a strike & I got 6 strikes in a row. I could do well when encouraged – it felt like love. He even bought me a sweater, unGodly expensive & beautiful. Can’t recall how this luck came my way.

 

          We were now in a beautiful house in MiddletownNJ. I was staying away some nights, she used Bill to try & track me down. Why did she care? It was part of her argument that I was a careless, reckless delinquent – a child gone wild. But I was staying away from the house because the abuse had gotten more intense & there was nowhere to hide or run except into town – bars, clubs, going out with guys even though I didn’t have sex per se, only ‘made out’. In Freehold the woods were my sanctuary.

 

I was now also 15 to 16, the age when one wants to be independent & have a life of their own. This was not allowed me, I was in the middle of a trap, so the only way I knew to get out was just to go.

 

There was a handsome rich boy I spent many nights with, he had his own cottage. I’d go out, hang in bars drinking, get a ride to Gil’s {Gil Hoyle, his real name } house & spend the night, then somehow drag my way home. I went to school sporadically, eventually I got kicked out – will explain momentarily.

 

I was introduced to Gil by a mutual friend, Karen Skumee {not her real name}. One night, his parents were away, both of us spent the night with him in his mansion. Later he got an apt in SeabrightNJ, one of the monumental places of my youth. What larks Karen & I had there one summer! It was like going from Hell to Heaven.

 

The point about Mom here is she was following me around. She got the address of Gil’s house from Karen, apparently, had Bill take her there & asked him not to give me access. But he told her I’d knock on the door so hard & long – it would be 2-3 am, he had to let me in. And he always did – he told me how she showed up. {Just now I realize had he been of age she would have threatened him with arrest, but he was only 16! His parents had set him up with a surveyor’s job & his own cottage. Mom was good at controlling people with threats, it worked. Once an infatuated teacher from another school called me at home, she was on the extension & broke in threatening him because of my age. Then a boy from my waitress job showed up at our house. She got all the info from him where I worked & then threatened him with police I suppose, he left like a dog with tail between the legs.}

 

My thought to this & other incidents is why the fukk, if I was so bad, didn’t she just leave me to my fate? If I was a loser or delinquent, let me fall by my own foolishness & leave me in the gutter.

 

The truth is the opposite. Every time I got a job – to pay my own way, she did not support me. She gave me NOTHING for my welfare, not one dime. Yes, once I kow towed to her for months to get $20 out of her to bleach my hair blonde. It appears in my senior school pic – which she refused to buy. But I told the hairdresser how I had to suck up to Mommy Fearest to get the bread – this hairdresser also did a friend’s hair, & the friend of Mom’s told her – not more money to get it bleached again. {When you bleach you have to do the roots regularly.} So that was the end of my blonde ambition.

 

I got money for NOTHING & she tried to keep me BROKE by every time I got a job – she found out – she’d call up & get me fired. I was

 

 

underage & had to ‘stay home to take care of my school work.’ This was purely to disempower me.

 

Now take the facts – One, she’s spying on me. She even got Bill’s Uncle to call, say he saw ‘porno movies’ of me & Gil Hoyle – I was frightened & shocked & much later understood she put this guy up to it – only later I recognized his voice, Mom was in the next room listening. She got a thrill out of hurting me.

 

Spying on me – not giving me a dime & getting me fired from jobs. What does that add up to? Looking out for my welfare or trying to destroy my life? Let me channel,

 

ME: Mom, what does this add up to? What was your motive? What was your plan?

 

MF {Mommy Fearest}: My plan? My motive? The motive was HATE. My plan – to destroy you, demoralize you, take away your morale.

 

ME: What did you think you’d accomplish by going to Gil’s & saying he should not allow me in? – didn’t you have something better to do, like work or cook or have a pleasant evening with your boyfriend? Why do research & go to a remote place, begging guys not to let me stay over night? And why did Bill cooperate with you?

 

MF: With Gil, you received consolation, a shoulder, a helping hand. I wanted no one to help you. With the jobs, you got empowerment. It feels good to be paid; one gets a sense of self worth. And you’d have money for things you needed. I hated you so much it was worth it to do research, to persuade Bill’s Uncle to call you & terrorize you. I found out who helped you, I went there to forbid it, except he didn’t listen. Bill cooperated with me as I only hung out with men who would – they were always the nicest, sweetest, the most compliant. Men who were dominating & wouldn’t take crap from a woman – like Officer Jim Doud – steered clear of me. They knew I was a bitch from Hell.

 

ME: That reminds me. When you tried to destroy the reputation of Jim Doud, who helped you get off the charge of animal cruelty in court – did it make you happy? You told everyone he was a homosexual, which in

 

those days was taken more seriously than now. Did it give you a sadistic thrill to hurt people? And there was no basis for this charge; you knew it was a lie.

 

MF: I was a psychopath, we have no conscience. I had no empathy, compassion or love. I only cared for your brother, that was it. I had temporary crushes on men, like your Dad when I was 16, & Bill. But as you know I lost interest in your Dad & took up with other men, my love turned to indifference or hate when I had used a person up.

 

ME: But it seems the hate you had for me was so intense it knew no bounds. I know I have asked this before but it’s still hard to believe how a Mom could hate her child that much. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worst, how much did you hate me, & tell me again, why?

 

MF: 1 to 10? A 15. Why? Your good qualities, you loved Dad, you were sincere, you were obedient, you were lovely. Men wanted you. All those reasons.

 

ME: And Dad, 1 to 10, how strong was the hate? And why?

 

MF: An 8, less than you by half. He didn’t give me enough money, that was 99% of it, other than that, not much reasons.

 

ME: Why did he not defend me from you, take me to live with him when I was 10?

 

MF: He didn’t know how bad it was, to be honest. And then, he was out of his element taking care of a child. And third, he was selfish & didn’t want his life messed up, his changes of getting another woman maybe. That’s about it.

 

ME: They money part bothers me as well. He could have given more. And I could have asked him for money for necessities, but I could not even conceive of it. And when I finally went to live with him age 16, he was a miser with me. He saved the money he was giving you for the mortgage, but he did not spend much money on me – so he was actually ahead financially. OK, over & out, I will close this up now.

 

The End of Being with Mom

 

Here’s how I switched from being with Mom to go to Dad’s.

One day Karen Scumee & I decided to play hokey, which we’d done a few times before, but we needed money. So we called a cab, he stopped at the bank so I could take out the $40 I had there from working.

Karen & I chatted in the back seat while this demon was listening – he was a local yokel not minding his own business. Knowing we were playing hokey & it was illegal, he drove us right to the police station!

I shall never forget the shock & stress I felt! My Mom hated me & this would make another nail in the coffin. I was a delinquent!

So they called the school & Mom.

 

Looking back I understand God did this to get me out of that Hell-house & over to my Dad’s, from where I would meet my eventual destiny.

The school was nervous about me because I did play hokey from time to time but I think most of all, re Mr Doubt {not his real name} who I would chat with, in his classroom, almost every night after classes. Because I hung out with him for solace & advice, the rumor went out that I was having an affair with him. And they had had a scandal the year before when a 16 yr old girl took off with one of the teachers, & didn’t want that again. There was nothing going on with Mr. Doubt, I needed a friend, that was it.

Each time I broke the rules, a couple times, they called my Mom in, she’d dress up in a designer suit that our lady friend had bought her, high heels, & wore a ‘high hat,’ telling them how great she was, a poor little woman abandoned by her husband & raising children alone! And I was the bane of her life, running around, a delinquent, staying out ALL NIGHT & doing a lot of fukking! Lol. To be honest – I HAD NEVER HAD SEX until I went to Brooklyn! I mostly stayed out to stay away from her & also, have some fun to compensate for the stress of abuse. People need LOVE – you look for it wherever you can get it. It doesn’t have to be SEX – just talking or attention are forms of love.

I know this is what she said because when the counselor she talked to called me in, without a word of asking about my side {I didn’t know how to explain it anyway} accused me of all that she said & demanded to know THE NAMES OF THE GUYS I HAD FUCKED!

He spoke of my ‘poor Mother’ who had raised kids ALONE – & how he himself had been a bad boy but straightened himself out & became an upstanding citizen & how dare I give all this trouble to my mother & play

 

 hokey & fuck guys?! I was so frustrated I couldn’t say a word, just started to cry, & he didn’t know what to do so he told me to leave, that was it.

I was EXPELLED, & so was my friend Karen Scumee, but years later she told me when the parents come in & plead for their child & promise they’ll be good, they are reinstated {she was}. But Mom had already told them I was the worst child there was {think of Jayne Eyre with her Aunt! – Being sent to ‘Lowood’} & the dye was cast – this no good child had to leave the house & finish school in B’klyn with her Dad.

So now I’m on the bus with my suitcase & someone flags down the bus in front of our house. Mom’s lady friend gets on & tells the driver to tell me to get off. The driver refuses, I paid my ticket. She goes to the back where I’m sitting & tells me to exit, plans have changed, but I refuse. What happened?

Years later I found out my Dad was paying the mortgage – like 1,600 a month {the mortgage is that high when your down payment is low. She blew it all on the most luxurious furniture – not for my room – anything but that. For herself & her lady friend, their room was twice the size of mine decorated in red velvet & fringe like a bordello, with Chanel #5 & Shalimar, plus dozens of other perfumes, on their dresser. My room was tiny with tan burlap curtains & a rag rug – shared with the half sister. Bro had a suite downstairs with his own bath.} – I had no idea as Mom always said Dad gave nothing. And when I was on my way, he told her since he was taking care of me, he would no longer pay the mortgage. That was too much to bear; I had to be prevented from leaving, lol. But God saw it differently.

 

But even after I left & went to school in B’klyn, the arm of my Mom reached out to me & did her last act of malice. Of course, I asked for it by calling her & bragging what great things I had done. When school was over, the junior year, I went to Seabright, got myself a job at a swank place – the Hofbrau House – got a loan from a friend of $50 {had to wrestle him for it} & put it on a tiny apt where Gil Hoyle used to live. It was shitty but all she had, good enough.

 

Now I call my mother to let her know how well I’m doing – look what I accomplished! I still thought in my innocent mind, that if I did well enough, she would finally love me – appreciate me. I had no idea of her true nature or that she wanted to destroy me – I thought if I did well enough, she’d appreciate me & stop being hateful. It was MY FAULT she hated me. Why else would I call her?

 

And so, I make one of the biggest mistakes of my life, call & brag to Mom. She seduces me like a snake. She misses me, wants to see me. She’ll come over, show her what I’ve done, then she’ll bring me home for the night.

So she drives to Seabright from Middletown – I show her my apt, the place I work, she takes me to her house, I sleep.

Next day phone rings, I’m the only one in the house. It’s Karen, who lives & works also in Seabright, at the same place. She screams,

“I’m going to kill your Mother!”

She went to work, Mom had called the boss at the Hofbrau House that she has 2 underage girls working there, which is supposedly illegal as they serve drinks. So that was the end of the job. But Karen convinced them only I was underage, she’s OK & they believe her.

I then call my apt. Mom called & told her I can’t live there, I’m underage – no permission from her. The lady tells her but I put a deposit,

& Mom says,

“You can keep it for all the trouble she caused you.”

That killed my dreams for the summer.

I did not think of any way out re the job or the apt – I could have said I have Dad’s permission, I don’t live with Mom, but didn’t think of it then. And I could have said to both these people that wasn’t my Mom that called, a crazy lady who hates me. But I was so stricken & inexperienced I never thought of that, just fell into suffering & pain.

It wasn’t long after that I left Dad, took off with Marilyn Monroe’s photographer who promised to get me into Playboy, with him to California, Hollywood, to meet my destiny.

You see, God works mysteriously. Had I been a success there that summer, I might not have hung around the city meeting all the people I had to meet, who connected me with photographers, editors, which finally led to this photographer. It was God’s plan being implemented the whole time.

 

I heard about Mom’s forthcoming death while working in Providence, Rhode Island in January “79.

Two days after her death – March 11 – I was filming ‘Real People’ with heavy thoughts on my mind.

March 12, 1979 was her funeral. I got there slightly late, {no, I will not be late for my own funeral!} after they closed the casket. She had asked the casket to be closed from the beginning, but no one listened. Since I was the only one late, I was the only one that obeyed her, not to see her dead in the coffin. Obedient to the end.         {End Chapter 11}