The Forty-Two Year Secret

My sister and I, now, are the only two people on this earth that know this secret.  It has hounded us for 42 years.  Sometimes, in anger or in retaliation, we have wanted to shout it out and say, "You think you know everything?  Well--you don't know anything.  How about some truth, for once in your life!!"

It will do me good to get it written out.  You don't have to read it--it is more a "purge" via journaling then anything.  A catharsis for my mind.  Glad I didn’t post it on the last blog, but--now I can.  I need to do this.

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In 1940 a young man from Detroit moved out onto the farm bordering my parents farm. It was war time.  If you were a farmer, you were deferred from serving.  His mother was wealthy--the farm next to her brother's came up for sale.  She bought it and sent her son out to live on it.

This man, Clarence and my Daddy became very good friends.  My Daddy, a farmer all his life, helped the man learn how to till and plant the fields.  He went with him to an auction sale to purchase some cows.  They hunted in the woods that separated their farms.

My Daddy and mother had been married about 2 years--I was 1 at the time.  My Daddy and Mother's best friends in our small town, had a sister.  All these "kids" knew each from high school.  She was 2 years younger then my parents.  My Daddy and Mother set Clarence and this young woman, Helen up on their first date.  They were married in 1942. Of course, the four of them were now fast friends.  They did many things together, spent a lot of time together.

Clarence and Helen had a daughter in 1945.  She and I became play-mates.  They had another daughter in 1949--my sister was born in 1952.  The four of us girls were together--like sisters.  In fact, until we were older, we thought we were related.  We all loved each other a lot.  We went camping together--spent many happy times together.  Helen was so nice to me.  She made Salmon Patties, which I loved, and if I was down at their house playing, she'd ask me to stay for supper when she made them.  We had so many wonderful times together.  

My Mother didn't have a best friend type of relationship with Helen.  Helen liked to gossip and my mother would never say a bad thing about anyone.  They had another friend Florence.  If Helen was with Mother, she'd talk about Florence.  Mother told me once, "people that gossip about others TO you, will gossip about YOU to them."

Things were good though--Florence and her husband Richard were also friends and the three family's had hot dog roasts nearly every Sunday evening in the summer, card parties every other Saturday during the winter and they vacationed together about once a year--when the men hired men to come in and do the milking and chores for them.

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Fast forward to 1969.

It was June of 1969--near my birthday, but I don’t remember what day.  I had been to the doctor for my annual check up.  As I drove home, I decided to stop in and visit my folks.  As I was about to turn into the driveway, I saw Clarence driving out, so I stopped in the road, knowing that as he turned to go home, he would stop and chat.  He waved out the window and turned right to go south on Vernon Road.  I wondered where he was going. 

Mother and Daddy were sitting on the patio.  As I walked up, I noticed Mother was crying and Daddy was leaning forward, his arms propped on his knees, his head in his hands.

I asked what was the matter and Mother told me that Clarence had just come from the doctor.  He had not been feeling well, had a bit of pain in his chest and had some blood tests and x-rays done a week before.  Today, he had been told by the doctor that he had a blood clot, traveling in his blood stream.  It would either lodge in his brain, his lungs or his heart.  There was nothing they could do and he told Clarence he had about six months to live.

Clarence had stopped to tell Daddy and Mother and asked them to “take care of Helen” afterwards.   He also made them promise not to tell her EVER that he knew he was going to die.  He wanted to protect her now and in the future.

Mother and Daddy promised him and he left, on his way to Florence and Richard's to tell them.  I learned later that he asked Florence and Richard if they would go up to the cottage at Christmas time in case something happened to him then.  He didn’t want Helen to be alone way up in Michigan's UP.

He quit smoking immediately as the doctor had told him, smoking would make the blood clot move faster.  Within the next few months, he bought a self-propelled combine and a new camper.  He told Daddy that he paid for credit life insurance on them so that when he died, they would be paid for and that he wanted Daddy to have them and work on the farm, until Helen could get things straightened out. 

Clarence died December 26th 1969 up north, while the four of them were out riding snow mobiles.  Richard and Florence were with them and brought Helen home.

Helen use to call my Daddy to come down and help with things.  She couldn't figure out how to turn the thermostat up to get heat (?)  She didn't know how to use the garage door opener (?)  My Mother thought at times it was a ploy, to get Daddy down there, but then she knew Helen was lonely and she knew my Daddy had promised to help and she trusted my Daddy.

When Mother got very sick, in February, 1970, she told Susan that if she died, Daddy would fulfill his promise to Clarence and marry Helen and take care of her.  She told Susan to "be nice and get along."  Our Mother died about six weeks later--from unknown causes. 

Helen and Daddy got married July 4th, 1971.  Daddy, Susan and I never told Helen or her two daughter's that Clarence had known he was dying.  That he asked my Daddy to promise to take care of Helen.  It was a giant secret--but we have kept our word--all these years.

Now it is written here for you all too see.

Susan and I have always said, someday we would tell our step-sisters.  Wouldn't they want to know?  Even if just for medical history knowledge?  After Helen’s death, we decided not to tell her girls.  Helen and her girls have always been protected from bad stuff, so maybe we should keep the tradition going?