A Brief History

I was born and raised in Chicago. Oh yes, that's me on the right standing behind my mother. My parents were both deaf, but I have forgotten how to use sign language, I only know a few words now. I have one sibling, a sister. My mom died when I was 19 years old, my dad, when I was 25. It was then when I first learned the real pain of losing a loved one. I met my ex-husband soon after my mom died. Deep inside I knew it was a mistake but I got married anyway, that was in 1967. Paul, my first child was born in 1968 and Jeff in 1970. In the same year my dad died, 1972, my marriage failed, and the divorce was final not long after. The boys were just 2 and 4 years old. I didn't realize the responsibility I took on being a single parent, but as I look back, I wouldn't have changed it. With just a just a high school diploma I set out to work and provide for my children and raise them the best I could. BTW, after being divorced for two years my ex, his new family, and the child support disappeared.

We had some tough times, but I try not to reflect on those, only the good times. Paul was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 5 years old, I cried even though I didn't know a lot about diabetes. The tears, I was to discover soon, were well founded.

My sons were typical boys, joined little league, got into minor trouble, didn't like school, and generally caused me to worry. How we survived is amazing but somehow we did. It always was, and always will be, the three of us; we stuck together through thick and thin. Oh yes, I never remarried.