So I have blogged about L already; it is only fair to round things out about the other young woman in my life . . . . K, my oldest daughter.
Where do I begin? I suppose at birth, the same place as I did with the entry on L. K is our first child but she was J’s second pregnancy. We were pregnant a first time in 1976 but at 5 months J had a miscarriage. Needless to say we were devastated. J went into a blue funk that lasted almost a year. I could do nothing to cheer her up.
In 1977 we left suburban NYC for Northern Maine. They say that there are two things to do in Northern Maine . . . fish and make babies and in the winter you can’t fish. So it seemed like a good place to go to try again.
It worked. After much angst and fear during the entire pregnancy everything was fine. In June 1978 our porcelain doll K was born. She was a 7 lb 2 oz knockout. I had never seen anything as delicate and dainty and unwrinkled; she looked Nordic with thick white - blond hair and milk white skin. She was the first child in either J ‘s family or mine for 20 years and the first grandchild for both grandmas, of course it didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous.. Everyone went nuts. It was ridiculous; we had so many clothes for her that some never got worn …she grew out of them.
I was 27, J was 26. We were smitten with her. We were amazed that we made anything so beautiful. In the hospital our entertainment was to bring her in the room and lay her on the bed and dress her up, changing outfits on her like she was a doll. When it came time to go home J and I were petrified we couldn’t believe they would allow us to take her home . . . they trusted us with this amazing thing.
We lived in very rural place on a class 3 road . . which is one step up from a logging road. We got no TV and only got 2 radio stations but it didn’t matter …K was our entertainment.
We left Maine and moved down to NH when she was a year old to be nearer family. It was a 9 hour drive from Northern Maine down to Vermont to J’s mother . . . this would never do. So in 1979 we moved to an equally remote place in the White Mountain Region, again no TV. J had no car, so it was she and K in our mountain house on a dirt road. From 1 – 4 years old K was in this incredible rich environment with her mother spending tons of time with her one on one . . .reading, talking doing projects, walking in the woods, picking wild berries . . . .there was nothing else to do.
K spoke really really early. By two she understood complex things like death, birth, and beginning and end. By 3 she was reading simple books. As bright as she was she was very shy with people she didn’t know well.
At 5 she started kindergarten. We expected that she would soar in school. The second day the teacher called us in to tell us that K would not talk in school.
She would not answer questions, say her name etc. The teacher asked us to bring her in alone with us after school to make it easier for her to establish a relationship with the teacher. So the third day of school J brings her to see the teacher after school. K is jabbering a blue streak all the way in the car, but the minute we get into the school she clams up and won’t even talk to J. J and I were devastated …our beautiful smart little girl had a problem and we had no idea what it was.
K went thru all of kindergarten and half of first grade never talking . . .she said not a word, not a groan, not a cry . . . nothing!!! The school psychologist called us in just before thanksgiving in first grade and told us that they think that K has pediatric schizophrenia. They want to code her and refer her to the local psychiatrist. By Christmas of her 1st grade year K is reading 4th grade books and is still very shy and not talking in school. A friend of ours who is a psychologist who knows K flips out when he hears the schools diagnosis and gets us an appointment with the head of child psychiatry at Dartmouth College Medical School.
This begins a two year commitment of once a week driving two hours to Hanover to see her psychiatrist. The school holds off doing anything based on the heavy artillery we are using.
Her Doc in Dartmouth tells us at the end of the K’s first grade year that at 6 she has the intelligence of a 13 year old but the emotional and developmental maturity of a 3 year old. Indeed she didn’t toilet train totally until 4 years old.
Things continue just the same in school for K. She makes it to the 3rd grade … never talking in school. She is labeled as electively mute and becomes a bit of a freak in her class. But she gets by because she is still drop dead gorgeous. The school is being very difficult and wants to deal with K in a punitive manner if the doc is not willing to code her as broken. So after a year long argument with the school, at the end of 3rd grade we pulled her out of school.
During 1980 – 1990 I had a consulting practice from a home office and J was home full time doing commission work. L was now one year old and as you remember had her own medical issues. So J and I home schooled Kyle and J drove down to Hanover several times per month … a few times for L with her endocrinologist and a few times for K with her psychiatrist. In the mean time K flourished at home. By the end of 4th grade she was fluent in American Sign Language. She picked it up from a neighbor who was deaf …she generously volunteered to spend two hours a week with her. K read To Kill a Mockingbird at 9 years old and wrote a report for us on it.
K was home schooled by the two of us from 3rd grade to sixth grade. At sixth grade when K would be eligible to go to the middle school, she decided that she wanted go to school.
To our amazement she was totally verbal in the new building. Her former classmates were amazed.
Middle school and the first year of high school were a boring breeze for her. By the end of her freshman year of high school she was fluent in French, she advanced beyond the book and spent every day after school listening to tapes and practicing alone in her room. She did no homework and read novels in class and got A’s. The high school didn’t know what to do with her.
So when she left school in June of her freshman year of high school she left the public school system. We put her in small private HS that blended enriched academics and outdoor skills. She blossomed. She learned to speak classical French (French of the 17th century) and read books of that era as a sophomore. She became a dedicated whitewater kayaker.
At 16 she was beyond drop dead gorgeous, she got this incredible figure. She had long white blond hair, a killer figure, 6 foot tall and femininely muscular. Boys chased her like crazy but she only had friends..no boyfriends, no dates; she wasn’t interested. Her academic performance and her grades went thru the roof. By the time she left HS she was also fluent in Spanish. She went off to a very good liberal arts college on 100% academic scholarship wih room and board (and they give her a computer and all her books). She declared a duel major in French and Spanish on emtry. J and I were elated. This school cost $30,000 a year in 1996 when she entered …she went for free. She also got a job in the college computer center writing instruction manuals. By the end of her freshmen year she changed majors to be a German major. She went back in her sophomore year and is made the student manager of the college computer center . . a paying job. J and I are proud as hell. School for K for us until then had been 12 years of hell. She is now soaring. Instead of costing us money she was actually making money by going to school.
Then the sky falls on Thanksgiving of her sophomore year. She takes the bus home, I go to pick her up and I blanch when I see her get off the bus. She has shaved her head to a marine crew cut and is wearing men’s clothes . . oxford shoes, a button down shirt and and a baseball jacket. I didn’t know what to say. I say as calmly as I can …what happened? She defers my questions and says that we will talk when we get home. We walk in the door and J bursts into tears when she sees her. It was a shock.
We stay up all night with her talking. No yelling. K admits to us that she is a lesbian and that she is not sure she wants to stay in school. We could have dealt with the lesbian declaration …that was no big deal . . .but our beautiful girl had been transformed into a very weird looking man and she was throwing away a 30,000 dollar scholarship and a good job.
We begged her to rethink things and she ultimately did not leave school. Instead she went back after Thanksgiving and selectively stopped going to classes. She finished her 3rd semester in college with two A’s and three F’s …the F were because she just stopped going to those classes. She was put on probation and they threatened to take away her scholarship. Spring semester was no better …three A’s a D and an F. She lost her scholarship. At the end of her 2nd year she withdrew from that college and didn’t come home.
She moved to western Massachusetts somewhere . . . we had no idea where. For an entire year she had no address, no job, and no phone. We heard from her every three or four weeks. We were insane with worry. Several times we drove to where she was and cruised the streets looking for her. We later found out that she was living on a farm in a loft bunkroom in a barn in exchange for farm chores. Her friends were Mexican migrant workers.
When she turned 22, she decided that she wanted to have a bedroom and a warmer place to stay. She found a gay woman who was ten years older than her who took her in. The apartment was filthy and full of cats. They had no relationship; it was pure pity that caused this woman to take her in. K began to grow her hair our and dress a little more femininely, in jeans and sweaters. She got a job in a coffee shop at night and in an office job at a nearby college in the day. We were now seeing her once a month; we would drive there and spend days with her.
She decided to go back to school but insisted that this was on her own and she didn’t want us to be at all responsible. She applied and was accepted to an excellent college as a romance languages Major. She rented an adorable house and began school continuing the two jobs nights and weekends.
She was (is) fluent in German, Russian, Italian, Portuguese and Hebrew in addition to French and Spanish.
She met four people who became her best friends in her mid twenties. She left her house and moved into a garden apartment with them. J and I loved her room mates.
They were wonderful people . . . two gay guys and two gay girls who established this quirky little family among the 5 of them. They all lived together for 4 years. At 28 K graduated from college and her 4 room mates decided to move on themselves . . .off to graduate schools, relationships etc and they all left the region. K was heartbroken …they were a real life version of that TV program “Friends.”
So at 28, K came home with diploma in hand and no idea what to do next.
She reestablished herself as a feminine person during her years with her friends. She is still as gorgeous as she ever was, and maybe more. She has a voluptuous models figure and this amazing hair and beautiful blue eyes. She is still somewhat shy but is a warm and loving person and has blossomed. She has a few friends but is hesitant to establish a relationship. She lives about an hour from us in a gorgeous apartment that she has furnished to the nines. She has a decent job but it is way beneath her.
Music has always been an important part of her life. She has at least 1,500 CD’s that she has collected in the last 15 years, she knows where all the used CD stores in the Northeast are and she frequents them all. She drives all over the place to hear her favorite artisits perform . . .almost all of them are indy artists who perform in coffee houses all over the east. She is a music gypsy, going anywhere to all kinds of obscure places to hear a favorite person.
She is this warm effusive person who is so intelligent it blows you away. For all the trials of her youth she has become this angelic force in our lives. We despair for her because she is lonely but she refuses to get in a long term relationship. We are desperate for her to meet someone and settle down.
She lights up our house when she walks in. This last year we all celebrated my birthday and I blew out my candles with K’s arm around me as D and J looked on. As I blew the candles out I thought how wonderful she is and I wished that she would find someone who would appreciate her as we do. At 32 she is this amazing lady . . . she indeed is just that . . . ... a real lady. I love her to pieces
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