The summer before my sophomore year of high school was much like the previous summer vacations. I had stopped delivering newspapers as that job conflicted with the family schedule.

My brother was home from college and his routine was much like that of previous years. He and Dad worked on painting jobs and when wheat harvest came they were busy with that. The out of town crew members came back. Having them around was good because they broke the tension in the home. They participated at church with their talents.

We had started a Saturday night Bible study for the youth gathering to play volleyball or softball until it got dark and then spend time around a campfire discussing Bible passages. Sometimes we stayed so late we got in trouble.

It was during the summer that a new family moved to town. The father was a physicians assistant hired by the town doctor to take on his patient load for the town as the doctor serviced several towns. The mother was a retired army nurse who was gruff and kind at the same time. This family lived a block and a half down the street and I would go visit with the mother. Clair would listen to me and allow me to talk about school and family without minimizing my thoughts and emotions. There were four children in the family and the three daughters started attending church. One of the daughters and the son shared my birth date. I was one year older than the daughter and two years older than the son. The daughter joined the debate team. She was also a cheerleader. We became good friends and she was an ally.

At home Dad and Mom continued their talks around the kitchen table. More often than not they became emotionally charged because of Mom’s inflexibility to accept what Dad had to say. She would get exceedingly upset if she was challenged about her toxic faith beliefs.

One night the discussion got so emotional that she went into the bathroom and swallowed a bottle of pills. Dad had walked into the bathroom and saw what was happening. He yelled for me to call the doctor who came immediately. The doctor arranged for private transportation to have Mom admitted to a hospital in Spokane. After they left Dad told me that I could not tell anyone what had happened. I couldn’t handle not being able to talk to anyone and quickly the news spread through the town and the church. Eventually, the church board met with Dad and told him that he had to get me under control.

It was during this hospitalization that it was determined that shock treatments would be the best treatment or Mom. Over a period of a couple of months she had nine treatments. After the last treatment Dad and Mom met with the psychiatrist. That appointment became contentious when the doctor advised that Mom needed ongoing counseling. She refused because she believed it would conflict with her faith beliefs. After the appointment, the family went back home. During that drive Mom became more emotional and any hope that she would get help was destroyed.

We had been informed that my grandmother’s health had taken a serious turn when she developed cancer. That fall the church decided to pay for plane tickets for Dad to spend time with his mother and for Mom to spend time with her family in Pennsylvania. My sister was to stay with a family from the church. The night before they were to leave a call came to the house from the church treasurer. She told Dad that no one was comfortable about my staying with them and the church decided to send me on the trip.

The call had come after we were all in bed. Mom could not hear the specifics of the call and she believed that arrangements were being made for her to be put in a cage for the flights.

We were gone for three weeks. During the second week Dad and I drove to Pennsylvania to get Mom and brought her back to Delaware.

My grandmother was hospitalized the entire time we were on the east coast. Each day we would visit with her but she was advanced in her cancer journey and it was like the grandmother I knew no longer existed.

After we going back to Washington I had a lot of catching up to do. I was disoriented by being gone for so long. I was out of step with the school year. The tension at home had increased rather than decreasing. Hospitalizations continued. It was a relief when Mom was gone. Each time she returned home I was told how disappointed she was because my efforts to take care of the house, laundry and my sister did not meet her standards.

I turned 16 that year and got my driver’s license.