This was to be a book about a woman who literally gave her life to her children by helping to raise a number of her own siblings after the deaths of her parents by age sixteen. She then went on to raise all of her children by herself, but since her death in March of 2003, I’ve decided to write about the benefits of raising three of her grandchildren to complete her legacy. This is a book to help young adults understand that they can achieve their personal goals, be it educationally, personally, and as parents if they attempt to do it right and with good intentions. This book is to remind young adults that having children is a grown up responsibility that is not to be taken lightly. This book also helps young ladies to love and respect themselves, and to not allow themselves to be taken advantage of. It shows young women that you could grow up, get a good education, learn from your mother and father, and marry a mate who loves you and is willing to be there for you. To be responsible parents who are everyday people, it takes commitment, determination, and not to be afraid to listen to those who could help you. It’s hard for young adults to listen to those who could help, but as young people, it can only help you make your life better down the road. I’m sure that most young mothers, who decide to give their children up for adoption, wouldn’t if they had their children’s responsibility. As a young man, I wanted to give to my wife and children the things I didn’t get and that my mother and the thing that my mother received, while she was growing up. All young adults have to do is believe in themselves, and I believe this book can help them do that.
Make Every Day Father's Day
By Being There By Theodore WentzAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 Theodore Wentz
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-5754-1 Contents
Acknowledgements...........................................viiForward....................................................ixBeing There................................................1The Challenge..............................................37Crystal and Shameka: Their stories.........................47Jackie's Story.............................................53Rodney's Story.............................................59The Ruth and John Peterson Story...........................67The Story of Ron and Tony Jr...............................77The Story of Miguel and Anna Rodriguez.....................87Giving Back/Heroes.........................................91Hero - Lebron James........................................103Special Note...............................................105
Chapter One
Being There It was the seventh day of March, 1979. Loretta had early morning labor pains. I took her to her mother's house in route to work because the doctor told us during one of our visits that when labor starts, a mother with her first child would be in labor for four to six hours. After nine AM, I called his office and he said monitor the contractions. When they become every fifteen to thirty minutes consistently, and if they get stronger, longer, and closer together, bring her in. The doctoral so wanted her to walk around as much as possible. Since I only worked twenty minutes away when I got the call, I left work and ran to Loretta's mother's house. Loretta was in true labor and surprised the doctor for being in true labor with her first child, and within four to five hours. The doctor wanted us to meet him in his office instead of going straight to the hospital, which I thought was odd. When we arrived at his office, Loretta's mother came with us. This was her family's first grandchild, and my families second. The doctor was away from his office delivering another child. While in the office, his nurse asked me to have Loretta lay on the table so when he arrives she will be ready for delivery. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours. I was never a heavy coffee drinker, but that day I was drinking coffee black. The future grandmother, who had a medical background, was getting restless. The doctor's nurse kept calling for him, but his patient was having complications delivering which delayed him to our delivery. When he finally arrived, I thought Loretta's mother was going to jump on the doctor. Little did she know I would have beaten her to it. He asked me to take down her garments while he was changing into his uniform. Portions of the Amniotic Sac were protruding, and as soon as the doctor broke the water, our first-born literally jumped out of his mother into the doctors arms. This was to be the first of three challenging yet great experiences; all three of the children's births were truly a gift from God. I held our first born within seconds of his birth. While his mother was being stitched up, I was holding him in a blanket counting his fingers and toes, praying that everything else was normal with our first child. This was a young man born to a mother who was raised in a nice middle class family, three aunts and one uncle, a family who believed in God, and was a credit to their community. A mother who graduated from school six months early, began working as a young teenager babysitting for neighborhood working mothers and began traveling in and out of Manhattan while working in a lawyer's office at seventeen. When I met Loretta and her family on February 5, 1977, she was seventeen going on eighteen and just out of high school. Her mother worked at a local hospital and her father worked for the New York City Transit Authority. I was twenty-two, graduated from high school at seventeen, six months early, and made the honor roll as a junior. My co-operative program grades were good enough to work a week and go to school a week through out the school year. I exceeded the thirty-two credit requirement to graduate. Coming from a broken home (my father and mother separated when I was ten years old), I began working at the tender age of ten cutting grass and shoveling snow in the neighborhood. At age thirteen, I was allowed to be a Daily News paperboy. I apologize for pausing; wiping away tears remembering my mother working waking me up to make me breakfast and sending me out to start my route at five in the morning on Sundays. At age sixteen, I was allowed to work at McDonalds after school until eleven pm, sometimes later as long as I did well in school. I sacrificed a lot to work; I made every junior high and high school basketball team but chose to work and help my mother out instead. I might add, while making my little $54 a week at age thirteen, I would give everything to her, just to find it returned to me in an envelope on my nightstand the next morning. I guess the thought to her made all the difference in the world. I painted portions of our house with my older brother at age fifteen between June and September of 1972. After helping my older brother, I took my brother below me to paint houses in the neighborhood to make money. We painted four houses on our block alone. That summer my older brother asked me, quote, "kid, what are you doing"? I responded "nothing". He asked me to come with him down to New York City's office of Personnel to file for city employment, and that is exactly what I did. I filed for New York State Employment, received a 97% on the test, and began working for the New York State Board of Higher Education the next summer at the age of eighteen. I stayed in public service for the state of New York, and then for the City of New York. I worked for the New York City Transit Police Department Special Services Bureau for the next twenty-one and a half years. Therefore, a special thank you to you Big Bro, and to my mother, to whom this book and my life is dedicated too. It is also dedicated to all of the great strong women of all colors, races, and creeds, who did what was necessary to raise their families alone. In addition, to you great strong be there fathers as well, this book is dedicated to you. My mother was born and reared in Charlotte North Carolina, lost her parents early in life (father at age thirteen, mother at sixteen), and had to help raise her younger siblings. She never finished school. She was married to my father at eighteen, had her first child at nineteen, and me two days before her twenty-second birthday. This woman was a rare person whom God put here on earth to be anything that she wanted to be. She was a beautiful woman who was able to sing. As a teenager, when we walked down the street, people thought she was my girlfriend. This woman sacrificed everything for her children and raised seven of us by herself, with the help of members of our congregation, and God himself. Many of the brothers in the congregation would study the Bible with us and treat us like their own children. To all of them, many thanks. My father served in the Korean War from 1951 to 1953 and made sergeant first class. He was a chef in the military and later worked at one of the top rated seafood restaurants in the great city of New York City, Oscars. He also was a car salesman. Lanard was born to four uncles and two aunts on my side of the railroad tracks. After my father and mother separated in the early sixties, my older brother Harold became Big Brother and Chief in his early teens while mom became full time provider for our family. Harold, thank you on behalf of all of your younger siblings. Thank you for giving up your youth for the responsibility you were given, not by choice but by necessity. I would not be writing this book if it wasn't for your leadership and sacrifice in helping six of your siblings make it this far. God bless you from the bottom of my heart. Oh yes, and now back to my first born, Lanard was a normal child, nothing out of the ordinary. He was the only grandchild on his mother's side, and he was able to see his great uncle Limey Gibbs (who unfortunately died months after he was born) and he was the only great, great grandchild on his mother's side. That gave his great, great grandmother much joy and happiness before she died due to cancer in South Carolina. Being the second grandchild on my side and oldest and only grandchild on his mother's side, he was getting very spoiled. While at our regular religious meetings, I noticed a member in my congregation and his wife. They had three lovely daughters; they sat like little angels and never made a sound for two hours. I could not believe their good behavior, so one Sunday I asked them (their names were Vernon and Jo Ann) "I've been watching your girls for months, please tell me what is it that you do to make them behave so quietly every week". They thanked me for the compliment, and told me simply "Teddy, after they turned ten months old, when they did not listen, their little backsides got it and after a while, they got the message". As Lanard grew, and started using a baby seat, I took Vernon and Jo Ann's advice of loving him but giving tough love if needed. Moreover, to his mother, my wife, I thank her for allowing me to bring that type of discipline to our household. This was a woman who dated a man with her mother and father's approval at the age of seventeen and a half, and allowed her to be engaged at eighteen (twenty-one for me). In fact, we were engaged on her eighteenth birthday. Eight months after that we were married. In fact, her father caught me on my knees on their porch proposing to her. I will never forget what he said, "Get up off your knees"! I later bought her the engagement ring of her choice. She became pregnant at the age of eighteen and a mother at age nineteen, all while married to a broke husband. All we had was love and two great families to help us through. That was very hard for a nineteen year old who only had one boyfriend before meeting me and getting married all within fourteen months. My wife and I worked; at times, I worked two eight-hour jobs that totaled eighty hours a week. I began working two full time jobs while helping my mother with my brother and sisters in 1976, one year before meeting my wife. Thank you Loretta for getting out there and helping me, you did not have to. While growing up, Mr. Lanard (our first-born) experienced two hernia operations. The first at age ten months and a second at age three years old. He being the only child for two years and nine months, his mother did not let him out of her sight, even when her father wanted to take him to South Carolina without her. I was smart enough to stay out of that conversation, quietly rooting for our only child to stay put. Her mother and father understood and went south without their oldest and only grandson. Keeping in mind the ten month rule (beginning tough love), Lanard was approaching his ten months on this earth. We loved him yet made sure he behaved himself while at the babysitter or when we went out to dinner. Also remembering when we were at home with my mother, she raised five boys, so she was always spanking somebody. Once we became young teenagers, she would have us to go outside, take a long vine off one of our large bushes, strip the leaves off of them, and you know the rest. Lanard was too young for that, but that was at the back of my mind. I thought why not make sure that when our son needed a tanning on his bottom; make sure he got the point. I did not like hitting kids; I did not like hitting my younger siblings. He was truly a good child, spoiled and wanting to be picked up, but he understood that mommy and daddy's yes meant yes and no meant no. Between the years of 1979 through 1982, Lanard got his discipline when needed, but understood its better to listen to mom and dad than being spanked. After completing the seventies, we are now in 1981. We were horseback riding in upstate New York with other members of the congregation when my wife told me that she was feeling nauseated. It was early May; Sonny (Lanard) had just turned two years old. We did not think much of it; another baby was the furthest thing from our minds because we were just beginning to turn the corner financially. We were now beginning to go out again to dinner and such. As the summer progressed, the days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Loretta's nausea was happening more frequently, so we decided to go to the doctor. We did not trust pregnancy test that much, so we decided to go to the doctor. By June of 1981, after three months of wondering, our doctor congratulates us and says we were going to have a December 25th Christmas baby. Talk about a long hot summer. While waiting for our first child two years earlier, Loretta would come up to my job and we would do little things like window shop at the mall, buy baby clothes, take walks, visit family, etc. Likewise, while waiting for our second I would leave my day job, take a class or two (I worked at a college) then either go home to my family or on days that I did not have a class, pick them up so they could stay with me while I worked extra hours. I learned that if you sleep with a woman unprotected, there is a possibility that she might get pregnant. Having unprotected sex is for grown responsible adults who understood that when you make a baby, you must stay there and be the mother and father that child deserves. I learned that although unexpected, two children that my wife and I had did not ask to come in this world, and it was important to be in a committed relationship, like a marriage. We made it through the summer and fall, and now we were in the winter of 1981. Approaching Thanksgiving and Christmas, we bought more baby clothes, more maternity clothes, and more black coffee for me and stress medication, just kidding. Loretta grew impatient and I was there to comfort her (I give a big shout out to all you mothers, God bless you all). I was also fortunate enough to take the Lamaze classes to be there for all three of our children; thank you Paris and Juanita very much. Ms. Loretta grew very impatient as the due date drew near; we were hoping for the holiday season of our married lives. As we approached the twenty-fifth day of December, there were no signs of labor or anything. The due date came and went, then came mass hysteria! I'm trying to stay focused and Loretta wanted to know what is going on. I believe we even called the doctor. She was very comforting and said "day to day now". We were approaching New Years and I am praying to God "please don't let this baby past the first of the year because if that happens, I might need a hospital bed right next to her myself". Wouldn't you know it, December 31st, someone is getting mild labor pains. Nothing serious yet but we will take it. This looked like it was going to be our best New Year yet. We watched Dick Clarke bring in the New Year. Even though the labor was mild, we were directed to meet the doctor at the hospital that morning. While there, we walked and walked. Mr. Terrance decided he was ready to meet both his mother and father in the early afternoon of the first of January 1982. Not without a little drama of course. You see, while in labor, when Loretta's contractions were coming every fifteen to thirty minutes, she was asked to lie down so that the baby could be monitored. On the monitoring machine, which was used to watch the baby's heartbeat, the nurse and I watched. Loretta was in pain and I requested that the doctor come to us. During this, Ms. Loretta was reminding me that it was my fault that she was having labor pains. The nurse didn't think the doctor was needed. I said to myself "she is the nurse, what do I know"? While watching the monitor, I noticed my son's heart rate was fading. I remembered at our Lamaze classes that at this stage the baby's heart rate should be and remain strong right through the birth. I again alerted the nurse, she said not to worry and that everything was fine. I was shocked and confused, and I said to myself "I don't have time to argue with her". I strongly told the nurse "we had a tough experience with our first one and we don't want to take any chances. I'm paying you, the doctor, and the hospital. Call the Doc". She did. When the doctor arrived, she noticed the monitor and said, "Oh my God, this baby is in distress". I had to push my wife across the hall and I couldn't put on my hospital uniform cap and shoes. The Doctor proceeded to deliver our child; he had the umbilical cord around his neck. We almost lost him. Yes, that to this day was the happiest New Year for our family. Needless to say, my mother wanted charges bought against the hospital but I declined. I was just happy to have my healthy baby to see him grow up. And grow up he did, all six feet ten inches of him. Every year when he has his birthday, I remember that situation. You would think after two nerve-racking experiences like that, we would have given-up on having any more children, but not us. She wanted a daughter and I without a doubt wanted my little girl. The last young lady I helped spoil was my little sister Maria. The only thing we found out later during the course of Loretta's next pregnancy was that we had one more opportunity for our girl, which we will discuss when we get to Miss Ashley. Terrance, our second child, was an active child. He was the busiest baby I had ever seen. Not only was he busy, but his twenty two year old mother and his twenty-five soon to be twenty six year old father were very fortunate that we had him. His mom and dad had to regroup and start all over again with a baby that deserves both mom and dad in his life. To the young men and women reading this book; please, please think about the seriousness of having children.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Make Every Day Father's Dayby Theodore Wentz Copyright © 2010 by Theodore Wentz. Excerpted by permission.
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