The last December our little family of four was together, we decided to go out to celebrate my fifteenth birthday. We had a lovely meal and when we returned home there was a surprise birthday party given by my one-time boyfriend Dale.
Unfortunately, he was unable to attend having a previous engagement with a young lady he was currently dating. If you have ever heard Leslie Gore sing “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry If I Want to,” then you know how the party went.
The following Monday morning I was sick. I felt awful and just knew I could not make it at school. Mary, who had had quite enough of the family togetherness and was looking forward to her kid-free Monday, took her usual tactic and said, “Come on. You’ll feel better once you get to school.”
This time I knew I wouldn’t feel better and I resisted. She countered with, “Okay, but I am taking you to the doctor and once he says you are fine, you are going to school.” Usually, that threat worked right way, but today I just felt drained and said, “Fine.”
Dr. Reader examined me and then scheduled me for a chest x-ray. When we finished with the x-ray, I was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. I was in the hospital for one week and our family had no health insurance! She and my dad took turns visiting me which was a tip-off of things to come.
Mary never once said she was sorry for doubting me.