A Fall to New Heights: A Love Crept in Un-Awares

Copyright © 2011 by Sidney Andrews

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ISBN: 978-1-4502-8698-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8699-2 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-8700-5 (dj)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011900578

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 1/28/2011

Dedication

We dedicate this book to our children. If we leave you with anything at all, let it be that you live your life passionately, walk in truth and believe in the power of love.

Be sure to judge no one, be quick to forgive and do your best to leave this world a better place for your having journeyed through this awesome experience called life.

Kate, without your encouragement, faith and gentle nudging of me in the direction of my computer, I would not have realized my dream of becoming a published author, nor, would I have fulfilled my longing to be all that I can be. Thank you for gracing my life with your love. Couldn’t have done it without you girl!

Contents

Preface

No Longer Alone

Chance Encounter

The Loss and the Promise

The Catalyst

The Awakening

The Warring Within

Fall from Grace

In Too Deep

The Price of a Leading Double Life

The Decision

On the Run

Turn-about

The Message in the Leaf

Face to Face

The Reunion

The Second Telling

The Unexpected

Surprise Encounters

To Have and to Lose

No Stranger to Challenges

Drawn Back Together

The Universe Rewards Action

Full Circle

The Depth and the Passion

After word

About Sidney and Kate

Preface

In August of 1973 a stranger entered my life and from that point on, my life would never be the same. There was no way to tell of the thunderous and devastating storm that would follow. I was a wife of fifteen years, with a great husband and three wonderful kids, a marriage envied by most. It was the summer of 1974 when my pristine life began to unravel and fall apart.

My reasons for undertaking this provocative and controversial work stems from the unexpected and radical changes that took place in my life back in the seventies, a time of more questions then answers. My thirty-seven year journey details a path that led me through the darkest corners of my mind, where nothing was sacred and fear was king.

Indiscriminately, I’ve documented each step even though it meant revealing the raw, sordid and ugliest details of my personal life. My motive for doing so is to reflect the strength of the human spirit when confronted by a situation or obstacle that appears insurmountable and bigger than life.

I knew beyond a doubt, A Fall to New Heights could change lives, open minds and bring insight to anyone seeking after authentic love, truth, peace and the freedom from living a life filled with fear.

I’m grateful for every step in my journey that brought me to my knees because it was then I learned to reach deeper into my spirit where all truth resides. My reward was the realization that I could live my life fully, rather then just survive through the years.

"Your thoughts will take you anywhere you want to go or keep you from getting there."

Sidney Andrews

No Longer Alone

My stepfather walked me down the aisle on my wedding day, I never really knew my real father. He left us when I was only two years old an event that left my mother bitter, resentful and cast out from the only thing that could have given her solace, the Catholic Church.

My mother would never forget the day she went to her priest for guidance and support, instead, she was admonished because she had divorced and was deemed unworthy. Back in the forties divorce was considered an abomination by the Catholic Church and excommunication her punishment. A devout Catholic, the wounds inflicted by the priest cut far deeper than those of her divorce.

My sister Betty and I were raised in a strict Catholic home where mother insisted we go to church every Sunday, even though she was not allowed to. She accepted no excuses for doing otherwise, and we never dared to argue with mother.

My mother was a proud woman who worked single-handed to raise us until she met my stepfather when I was ten years old. Until then she was not one to ever accept charity or see welfare as a solution in tough times. She worked six days a week as a riveter in a dark smoky factory within walking distance from our apartment. Her motto was, You make your own way in life and never accept charity.

There were times when things were tough financially but mother never gave in, gave up, or looked outside of herself for help, on the contrary, through the best and worst of times she was a tower of strength. That strength did not translate into a warm maternal presence however. Unfortunately it was quite the opposite. My mother was often short-tempered, critical and quick to anger. She was true to form even when she first met Bill.

Bill was twenty-four and I was seventeen when we met on a blind date that a friend had set up just a few months after I left the convent. I had joined the convent thinking I had a calling, from whom it wasn’t clear. In any case six months after I had entered, I was politely asked to leave. Sister Marie Consolata told me that, it just wasn’t working.

Maybe it was my constant jabbering during prayers or my insistence on playing show tunes on the piano during quiet time that gave her a clue. Whatever the reason, it was determined I didn’t have the right stuff to be a nun. Sister gave me a string of crystal rosary beads and sent me packing. I wasn’t saddened, as I was beginning to realize this type of life wasn’t for me. Getting up at 4 o’clock in the morning to start the day just wasn’t cutting it. Lights out at 7 o’clock was even worse.

Bill was my very first date and also the last. I still recall how angry my mother was when Bill came to the door and she noticed his receding hairline. How old are you? She demanded, never one to mince words. When he told her he was twenty-four, seven years older than me, my mother angrily let him have it.

You should be ashamed of yourself for robbing the cradle! She scolded. I am not happy about Sidney going out with you at all! Furthermore, if you have any ideas about marriage you’d best get them out of your head this minute because it is out of the question!

I was embarrassed and mortified! This was our first date for heaven’s sake! Yet, I learned early on that you don’t argue with Mother because you aren’t going to win. Knowing this and wanting to get out of there as fast as I could, I kept nudging Bill toward the door, sure he’d never want to see me after this.

Though it was Bill’s first encounter with my mother he handled himself like a gentleman. He didn’t have much of an opportunity to get a word in edgewise or respond to her attack yet he remained calm, cool and collected. I was impressed! Even so, I was still nervous thinking Mother had ruined any budding interest Bill may have had in me. Thankfully my worries would prove un-founded.

Bill did ask me out again and we quickly became an item. Soon he learned to handle my mother the same way I had for years, just let whatever she said go in one ear and out the other. After a couple of months when she realized Bill was around to stay Mom made peace with the idea, treating him with less suspicion and hostility, but that proved to be the lull before the storm.

My eighteenth birthday was in June. Bill and I had only known each other for six months when he gave me a diamond ring. I was happy beyond words, but Mother, you guessed it, had more words for Bill than I care to repeat. Reluctantly, albeit skeptically, mom gave us her blessing and we were married on September 3, 1960 and of course in the Catholic Church!

Bill came from an upper middle class family with a traditional mother and father. He was the older of two children. They lived in a beautiful, white, single-family home in an affluent part of the city. I lived in an area where three-story apartment buildings lined every block.

Unlike the reception that Bill received when he first met my mother, Bill’s folks and sister welcomed me into their family with open arms. They all made me feel more than welcomed. I was overwhelmed by the crispness of their lifestyle, and the genuine ease with which they shared their love and accepted me into their lives.

At first I was intimidated and uncomfortable with them. They were the picture of the All American family! The love they shared with each other was amazing, night and day from my family experience. Their arms were open and their expressions of love caring and real, believe it or not, it took some getting used to. Eventually as I got to know them I began to relax and take comfort in their loving embrace.

My heart was full and I felt as if I could fly when I saw Bill standing at the alter waiting for me. I was so happy! Bill’s love for me was like a warm, protective shield that kept the fears and insecurities of my childhood at bay. For the first time, I felt safe and loved.

It was in March, three months after Bill and I were married, when we found out I was pregnant. We were overjoyed and feeling on top of the world. The elation was short-lived when three months into my pregnancy I miscarried. A year later it was discovered that I had endometriosis, a painful and harrowing affliction which meant that I had to have a complete hysterectomy. Our hopes for ever having children of our own were dashed. We were devastated! I was nineteen years old and so distraught that I couldn’t give Bill a child.

It took a few weeks before Bill and I were fully recovered from the disappointment of never being able to have a baby of our own, that’s when we decided to take in foster children. We took in two babies at a time at four different intervals over the next two years, yet it wasn’t enough. My heart broke each time I had to give them up, letting go became too painful. I wanted babies we didn’t have to give back. I wanted a family of my own to shower our love upon, and Bill shared the same feelings so we decided to adopt.

Back in the sixties to adopt a child, both husband and wife had to be at least twenty-three years old and though Bill met that criteria I didn’t. I was beyond disappointed. We’d have to wait a couple of years before even applying.

With nothing else to do but wait for time to pass I got a job as a nurse’s aide at a nearby hospital, that experience would be the beginning of my interest in getting a nursing degree. Between Bill’s engineering job and my working, we were able to save money for what I called, baby expenses. Our obstacles to having our own children may have been disheartening, this delay to adopt discouraging, but with Bill to lean on, and knowing that he loved me as much as he did, I could traverse the rough spots a little easier.

Time marches on as it always does yet those two years seemed to pass achingly slow. Every now and than I’d have what I like to call, a feel sorry for myself moment, during which time Bill would take me in his arms and hold me reassuringly until the dark cloud passed. This gentle giant, at six-feet-three and 260 pounds was my rock and a soft place to fall. Loving him was so very easy.

Not wanting to raise children in the big city we bought a three bedroom ranch house just outside the city limits. It was a small but cozy place tucked into the side of a hill in the middle of the woods. The nearest neighbor was a quarter of a mile down the road.

A cheery picture window in the front overlooked the circular driveway and the dirt road that wound its way past the house. The calm, soothing sound of the river on the other side of the road competed with the whispering winds in the tall pines that surrounded our property. It was a magical place with plenty of room for children to roam, explore and grow. Bill and I saw it as the perfect spot to raise a family and bought the house.

After waiting for two long years we applied to adopt our first child and within three years we had not one, not two, but three children. They became the center of our lives. At six months of age David was the first to find his way into our hearts, Ron and Tricia were to follow over the next couple of years. The family Bill and I had always envisioned was now complete and life couldn’t get any better. With a husband that loved me beyond measure and having the family I’d always dreamed of, I was the happiest wife and mother on earth.

Chance Encounter

My friend Joyce saw the adoption of our three children as the ultimate unselfish act. Joyce and I had been friends in high school; she was a dear friend who saw something in me that I didn’t see in myself. You have so much to offer. She often said. I welcomed her kind words though I didn’t see our adopting children as being unselfish. I simply saw it as fulfilling my dream of having a family.

A woman of intense faith, Joyce had been trying for months to get me to attend her Tuesday morning prayer group, but I wasn’t interested at the time. Having just completed two years of nursing school with exams still pending, juggling work and family, I was fighting just to keep my head above water. I was left with little time or energy for any extracurricular activities even prayer meetings.

Joyce hounded me for weeks. She told me the prayer group had been praying for my success with the nursing exam all the while hoping to meet me in person. Four weeks before taking the exam my anxiety level peaked, my self-confidence took a nosedive and I realized a prayer meeting might be just the medicine needed to bring me back into balance. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

Joyce was excited when I finally gave in to her persistent promptings. She gave me a little background information on each of the women that attended with special attention to one in particular, a woman named Kate. With a grin on her face Joyce said, Wait till you meet her, you will have met your match. She couldn’t say enough about her vibrancy and love for life.

Joyce told me Kate was one of nine kids and the only one to contract polio during the big Polio Epidemic in 1944. She was seven years old at the time she was stricken and spent two years in the hospital. Polio left her with complete paralysis of her left arm and partial paralysis of her right from shoulder to elbow. From there I was briefed on Kate’s marriage, daughter, beautiful home and her deep sense of spirituality. Few details were spared. I was already feeling intimidated, nonetheless, my curiosity was peaked and I couldn’t wait to meet her.

Meeting new people tends to make me feel uneasy and my first prayer meeting at Annie’s would be no exception. The thought of not knowing anyone but Joyce made me all the more uncomfortable. The school bus was late picking up the kids, any other day this wouldn’t have been an issue, but today? Arriving late for the prayer meeting only added to the anxiety I was feeling. If it weren’t for Joyce and her gentle reassurance, I would have bowed out in a heartbeat. How different my life would have been if I had.

The prayer meeting was in progress when we arrived. Annie, an ex-nun of twenty years was the host. Annie was a stocky woman with graying hair, a round face and a smile that lit up the room. She walked us down a short narrow hallway into the kitchen and pointing to a couple of empty chairs whispered, I’ll introduce you to the group after the meeting. Joyce and I quietly tiptoed to our chairs trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Too curious to bow my head I began to scan the table of eight women looking from one person to the next to see if I could pick Kate out of the group. Joyce had told me, Kate was a perfectionist with her makeup and dress, but most importantly what set her apart from a crowd was her unmistakable and undeniable vibrancy.

Joyce was right, because there was no way you couldn’t pick her out of this group. There she sat with a distinct look of peace and happiness written all over her face. Her head was bowed, eyes closed, hands clasped in her lap. To be perfectly honest I was a little put off by this picture of seeming perfection, then instantly felt a pang of guilt for even having the thought.

After the prayer meeting ended, Annie walked me around the table introducing me personally to each member. Kate just happened to be the last person she introduced me to. I extended my arm to shake her hand and was totally embarrassed when I observed she couldn’t raise her hand much above her lap. This was the first indication I had that she was limited. Until the handshake, her disability was difficult to detect as she sat so prim and proper

Kate and I exchanged the usual questions like where in town we lived, what church we went to, how old our kids were, and what our husbands did for work. I couldn’t resist rushing through the generalities and getting right to the nature of her disability. Something about Kate intrigued me. I found myself drawn into conversation with her and she didn’t seem to mind my questions. She knew I’d be taking my nursing exam in a few weeks and was more than willing to respond to my curiosity.

Only later when we became good friends would Kate confide how put off and embarrassed she was with my focus on her disability.

The following week I attended another meeting; to be honest it was my curiosity about Kate rather than meditative prayer and self-reflection that drove me. After the meeting Joyce usually took Kate home, but this time I offered to drive her and she readily accepted. When we pulled into her driveway she invited me in for coffee, and of course I accepted her invitation! Kate lived in a beautiful barn-red, two story brick colonial, meticulously kept.

After Kate served me coffee we sat down at the kitchen table and began talking. Whatever she must have thought of me at our initial meeting a week earlier seemed to be forgotten. We were really hitting it off and enjoying each others company.

The warm August sun ushered in by the soft summer breeze, streamed in through her window cutting a path across the kitchen table. This sight sparked a discussion on light that kept us occupied for the next four hours, prompting us to look up every verse in the Bible that had the word light in it.

Having bonded over our mutual search for spiritual meaning, within a week’s time Kate and I were spending every weekday together. I’d put the kids on the school bus and head to her house where we sat at her kitchen table talking about the prayer meetings, dissecting Bible verses and singing hymns. Strangely enough after a couple of weeks it seemed as if we’d known each other forever, and as the days unfolded we discovered how much we had in common.

Our love for family, friends, prayer meetings, music, learning, and life in general were just a few of the things we shared. There was so much we wanted to learn, know and understand. Each visit sparked intense studies and debates, as we attempted to satisfy our longings to know more about life and how we could be better wives, mothers and people.

In just a couple of weeks after meeting Kate we become inseparable, where one of us was, the other was expected to be. Very quickly we became known as the team of Sidney and Kate.

Kate was totally genuine and without pretense. Her home, husband and daughter were her life and love. It was equally clear that God was her strength and the explanation for her vibrancy, patience, discipline and determination to be all she was capable of becoming. Others may have considered her to be disabled, but it was clear her belief in something other than herself helped her cope with the difficulties she encountered in everyday life.

I remember Kate telling me about her teenage years. She told me how she had gone to her Dad, this one day crying. No one will date me because of my Polio. She said her Dad took her hand and said in the most gentle of ways, Kate, if I could take this from you I would, but I can’t and Polio is never going away, so you’ll have to make up your mind and either cry through life or smile" and be happy. Having nothing more to say he kissed Kate on the cheek and quietly walked away, leaving her to think about what he had just said.

When Kate and I weren’t studying the Bible we’d practice songs to be sung at the prayer meetings, go to the mall browse around, or just stop for coffee and talk about anything and everything. Each day was full, beautiful, and rewarding. There was never a lull in our conversation and we laughed a lot; God, how we laughed!

Wanting our husbands to meet as well, I invited Kate and Joe over for Thanksgiving Dinner. Our husbands hit it off from the start, both sharing a passion for sports, politics and family values. Though there were many hot debates to follow, Joe and Bill respected each other’s opinions.

My son David was eight years old, Ron six and Tricia five. Kate had one child, a daughter, Deb, who was eleven. Together David and Deb became the leaders of the pack relishing the thought of having two younger subjects to boss around. Tricia and Ron didn’t mind, as they were just young enough not to care about the two fledgling leaders.

Soon after, Friday nights turned into family night out. We’d all pack into one car and head to Stella’s, a well-known Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town. Saturday nights turned into beans and franks night and by the following summer we were taking camping trips together almost every weekend. Kate and I marveled at how quick our families connected. If Joe and Bill weren’t planning camping trips, discussing political strategies, or comparing home repair projects, they were hanging out, having a beer and watching the Red Sox on television.

Other than family, bible studies, prayer meetings, singing and an overall obsession with spiritual growth, Kate and I had little else in common insofar as personal traits. She was a perfectionist, while I was more laid back and not threatened by dust balls, wrinkled spreads or dirty dishes in the sink. Kate was petite and fragile in (five feet tall and 100 pounds) appearance, her hair was naturally curly and blonde, and she couldn’t start the day without her makeup on.

Make up was the least of my concerns, not that I was a vision of loveliness you understand, but I just didn’t have the patience for it. My hair was straighter than a blade of grass. Even our taste in clothes set us apart. I liked the sporty look; jeans were my trademark and a dirty word to Kate who was more fashionable. When it came to self-expression Kate was quiet and reserved, while I was outgoing, demonstrative and impulsive.

We even had different ideas when it came to rearing children. She was an overprotective mother, while I believed in teaching my children to be independent and responsible for their actions.

I recall the day that Deb and David came running into the house and asked if they could run up to the store to get some ice cream. Kate immediately said, No! I looked over at her and asked, Why can’t Deb take a walk to the store? It’s only a block away.

I’ve never let her out of my sight. She replied in a serious tone. That’s too far for her to go! After a lengthy discussion and with the re- assurance Deb wouldn’t be alone as David would be with her, Kate reluctantly let her go. Eventually I was able to help Kate lighten up when it came to Deb and in return she taught me how to be a better disciplinarian.

There was an undeniable bond between us