Domestic Godess
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Knock Three Times..
Seems as though we all have tradgety to deal with at some point in time in our lifes... So, with bordom mounting... I guess I can share with one or two of my own.... Not going to bother with my grammer, nor my spelling... LOL.. never really do... So... Deal with my mistakes.. 
You will notice that the story jumps around a bit... and that is how I want it... It is not just bad writing skills.. LOL... I did it on purpouse
Last edited by Domestic Godess, 12/17/2003, 10:33 pm
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12/17/2003, 5:40 pm
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Domestic Godess
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Re: Knock Three Times..
The end of my Sophomore year came and went . . . With the last day of school came another kind of goodbye for me. I was leaving Maine, in which for eight years I had thought I would be dying to do. But when the time came, it wasn't pleasant. I always crabbed and complained of how backwards it was up there. The only thing going for the whole place involved either trees or potatoes. There was no other type of living to be made . . . But my parents, who were both retired, did not have to worry about making a living. They only thought of making a life for me, some place safe, some place quiet. But, it was time for us to go home. Back to Massachusetts, back to family, back to a normal world. It was very bitter sweet. I said my tearful goodbyes to my friends, whom I would miss to no end. Hopped in the truck with my boyfriend at the time, Benji. He was relocating with us. Massachusetts called . . .
Dad had been having uneasy feelings as of late, and was glad to be going back to the place where in but all of eight years, he had lived, 71 out of his 77 years. His " hooting and hollering" had been getting worse . . . His sleep was a mess of trashing, yelling and screaming . . . He had done the hoot and holler for many years. But somehow, he felt the weight of his dreams on his mind . . . In the last one, his mother had come to him. Told him to buy my mom something really nice . . . So Dad bought mom a pink ice ring.
We actually had no home waiting for us in Mass. We were staying with my sister till we bought a house. Which I thought was just great. I was very close to my sister, she was my best friend, even though she was 17 years older than I. I and Sue always did awesome stuff together. That usually involved getting trashed out of our minds. I was 15. But for a few years now, I had even been allowed to drink at the Bar she went to every day. Yes, they even served me at the tender age of 13 . . . Me, lying through my teeth that I was 19. and in college. So We showed up at my sisters door step later that night, me and her giving each other a look that clearly stated " how long before Mom starts her ****"...
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12/17/2003, 8:04 pm
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Domestic Godess
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Re: Knock Three Times..
A week passed by half way peacefully, Well that also depends what you call peacefully, but mostly without incident. My Dad was very glad that we had decided to move back down when he did. His sister was not doing well at all and was going to pass away soon. He got to say his goodbyes. I remember the funeral very well, looking at my Aunt Dot lying in a casket. And at the church, as the coffin was rolled by, The rest of the remaining Stewart Clan, knocking three times on the top.
Dad and his siblings rein from the Royal Stewart line. Coming from Scotland, and down the line residing in Canada. Dad and his brothers loved making the children of the family bow to kiss their rings. Because, as we all knew. They were Kings, and princes. We even once had an extremely elaborate party for my Uncle ****, Giving him a Robe, Scepter, and crown. It was all in good fun, but the blood line that I got to share a name with did give me a certain amount of Pride. My dad used to say that I was a princess, and that my clan in Scotland would be proud to have such a fair ruler . . . Even though we both new that out of this proud and noble blood, not an ounce ran in me. I was adopted. But princess never the less I was. In this long line came much lore. One being the Manadnok knocks. That is why the tradition of Knocking on the Casket of a dead Stewart derived. Legend Held that when the Eldest Son of the Stewarts died, a relative would be informed, by three ground shaking knocks that came out of nowhere . . . This had happened in my family already once. When dad’s brother Andy was killed in a car accident many, many years before. You then, knock three times on the Coffin as it passes, to inform the Clan, and relatives that have already gone before you of the coming of one of their own. And Uncle ****, Dad, Aunt Renee, and Aunt Alice, Knocked on Aunt Dots Coffin as it passes somberly down the aisle of the church.
It came to be July 10th, three weeks had come and gone, still no luck on a house. And mom getting more and more on the edge of insanity because of it. I, only 15, 3 days short of being 16, could have really cared less about any of it. I enjoyed hanging out with Sue, and got to make fun of mom with her behind her back. It was a hot day, about 80 degrees. I remember it like it was yesterday. My nephew had an all-star baseball game that night, he was 12 at the time, my niece being 11. 6:00 came, and we were all headed for the game, We asked mom if she wanted to come along. But it had been a bad day for mom, She had done one of her ritual flip outs, and had left earlier in a huff. Never telling anyone where, she would just jump in the Van and take off. Coming back some hours later hoping that we all felt guilty enough for making her so upset. And this night was no different. She declined the invitation to go with us to the ball game, and we all headed out the door. Sue and I snickering under our breath. Mainly because we were half in the bag.
The game proved to be quite exciting, and even more so when it started to storm. My dad had come with us. And I surprised him by buying him an orange soda, and a bag of popcorn, all out of my own money. He loved orange soda. As well as popcorn. In truth, there wasn't much that Dad didn't love. In the entire world, you could search, and find no one like him. He had the temperament of a lamb, and the strength of a lion, even at the age of 77. The most amazing humor. The man was literally an angel. And that night proved to be no different. It was the most fun we had all had in a long time. Me, being 15, and a ***** from hell most of the time, I will always be glad for that night. I had no teen angst, and was willingly waiting on my father. I wasn't *****ing that I had something better to do, with better people to do it with, as I had often done in the past year or two.
The game resumed, and ended up lasting till midnight. When finally over, we were all famished, so went to burger king and picked up some burgers, and went home. Coming through the door, not exactly being quiet, and facing Mom, not all too pleased, standing there demanding to know where we had all been. After explaining ( and more snickering from me and Sue) we all got ready for bed. We had been in the rain for quite some time, and even though it was the middle of summer, we were chilled. My sister asked to borrow a pair of sweat pants from me. So I went to the BOX I had been living out of for the past three weeks and dug out a pair for her. She picked them up, and smelled them, which is something my sister always does. They smelled a tad musty . . . After all, they were in a cardboard box, on the floor . . . What more did people want. I was the one who had to wear them. So she declined them, and we all went to bed.
The next morning I woke up at 9:00, to the sound of my mothers voice, yet once again, *****ing about something. She had been under incredible stress as of late, with not having her own house yet, and using another womans kitchen, which is never a good thing, among countless other stresses.
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12/17/2003, 8:05 pm
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Domestic Godess
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Re: Knock Three Times..
I lay there for some time. Listening to the latest drama issue from the kitchen. My mom was going on and on about . . . Foliage???? And my sister was trying to calmly explain something to her . . . But Mom would not be deterred. She kept demanding something about foliage. Then I heard what it was about. My sweat pants from the night before, Mom was saying that they had a musty smell to them because of the dead leaves in a little tree line my sister had in the back yard. This section was directly behind the bedroom window. My sister was arguing about the fact that it had nothing to do with the dead leaves, and that it was because I WAS LIVING OUT OF A CARDBOARD BOX! ... Mom started to get really besides herself . . . and then my sister said the magic words . . . “ Mom. Your out of your mind” . . . BOOOOOOM . . . She snapped . . . as she always does if you say that to her. She was very sensitive about that . . . She started to cry. Got dressed. And took off . . . Like she does when she is pissed . . . I got out of bed . . . and came into the kitchen. In total Racheal style, I said “ Well, another day starts huh?”
Dad seemed a little upset about mom’s outburst. He was a very sensitive man, and loved his wife . . . About 45 minutes after her departure, she came striding in . . . Slammed Dad’s truck keys on the kitchen table, and declared ‘ THERE ARE YOUR ****ING KEYS’ . . . and left again. In that moment in time . . . In that one action, in that one thing, that would later be known as the most single, horrible mistake that could have ever been made. Our lives were forever turned upside down . . . but there, AT that moment, no one knew that. None of us knew, that those keys on the table.. That Mom bringing back those keys, would cause pain that you could never fathom. They were very innocent looking keys. But they held a secret. They held a tradgity, waiting to be released. Just sitting there. On the table, after being slammed down by my mother, with hateful words. Words that she has tried to take back, year, after tormenting year. But, there were still more words to come from her that she would regret by the end of day. Her anger was yet not worn out, Her frustration not yet taken out on the wrong person enough.
But I sat there, completely unaware. Only aware of my own wants. And of my own mind, and how my mother acting like a child that day was taking away some fun for myself. Because Dad and Mom were supposed to be house hunting that day, Leaving me with my sister. And us planning on going down to club Jigger, Playing some pool, and having a few drinks. I did not care that mom was acting like an idiot. I did not see the pain in my father’s eyes. I was 15, and truly only cared about myself.
Dad had a hip replacement scheduled in a few months, and in the meantime, was walking with some difficulty . . . So, he had to go down to the local medical supply store down the street and get a ‘ a booster seat” for the toilet. Because he could not bend his hips to sit . . . well, not without some pain on his part . . . which he never would show. He returned about an hour later. Asking if my mother had been home yet, I and my sister replied no. He said that he wanted to go and look for her, Sue told him to sit down and have a cup of coffee . . . In my mind, I was saying “ yes, go. Then me and Sue can leave.”
I sat down on his lap, and asked him if he remembered what it would be two days from then. He jokingly replied “ do I have a date?” I laughed, and told him yes, that it better have been a date for a large party for myself. I would be 16 . . . Every girl must have a Sweet 16 right?
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12/17/2003, 10:30 pm
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Domestic Godess
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Re: Knock Three Times..
I would have never believed you if you had told me where I would really be on my 16th birthday. Never.
I went into the living room and started to watch a movie. My Niece and Nephew had returned from school, and we were all sitting there . . . My father still insisting that he go and find my mother. Dad walked into the room, and gave Becky, Ricky, and I a Jelly candy orange slice. They were his favorites. He had a giant bag of them. I still have that bag . . . Full of Orange candies.
He said that he was going to go find mom, Sue said he should sit down . . . I was still hoping in my mind that he would go. But he was too worried by that time, and nothing was going to stop him. He gave me another orange slice. Picked up the keys, the keys that should not have been there . . . And left. I never saw my father alive again.
He had gone to my oldest brother’s house, some ways away from where my sister lived. And found mom there. She was still upset, though taking it out on him was uncalled for, he had done nothing. Except for the fact of looking back and forth from my mom to sister, as though he was watching a tennis match. He asked my mom if she wanted to go out to lunch, even though it was around 3:30 . . . she said no, that she didn’t want to go anywhere with him . . . He asked her if she was headed home. She said she didn’t’ know. Perhaps she would never come home at all . . . She was full of ****. She likes to get to people when she is mad . . . I have that traight from her. In that way, I am very much like her . . . I like to hurt the heart when I am pissed . . . and like her. I am good at it. Dad was hurt. But yet, he also knew that she was full of ****. He told her that he had to go to the grocery store, and then he would be going home . . . Home to my sister’s house he meant. That is not the home he went to.
Thirty minutes later my mother made to go home as well. And about 3 miles up the road, she met a road block. , And had to take a detour. There was a very bad accident, and they had closed off the road.
When mom got home me and Susan were sitting in the kitchen, just chatting. She walked in and asked where Dad was. We told her that her guess was as good as ours. She told us of how he had left 30 min before she had. We asked if he had anywhere to go, and she told us of how he was going to the store for supper. We dismissed that that is where he must still be, But then mom told us of the detour on the way home. My sister said that we could go down to the store, see if the truck was there. Benji and my brother were at the local Pizza house, getting their own supper. They came home while mom and sue were gone, and I told them what was going on . . .
Supper was already in the oven . . . We had made manicotti, The already made frozen kind . . . I will never eat manicotti again. I remember trying to shove some down my throat later on that night . . . It was like . . . Like, someone had a rubber band around my throat, and was forcing me to swallow a balloon. I looked at my plate, thinking to myself, “ why am I eating this” . . . It was
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12/17/2003, 10:31 pm
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Re: Knock Three Times..
because mom had said that I had to . . . But as I looked at the it . . . The sauce, running red over my plate, and the cheese, inside the shell, scattering, in the way ricotta does, in little clumps, it looked like . . . and my father. His head had been . . . What I THOUGHT his head had been . . .
Mom and Sue came home from looking for Dad at the store. With no luck. My sister had a very worried look on her face by this time, and she said to me privately “ IF SOMETHING HAS ****ING HAPPENED TO HIM, I WILL NEVER RACHEAL, NEVER FORGIVE HER.” Ben and Robbie went down the street, just to see if they could see him. At Ames, at Cumbies, anywhere . . . Mom and Sue did the same . . . I was left alone. Sitting in the kitchen, Still, with my eternal optimism, sitting there, thinking that everything was fine, and that people were overreacting.
Ben and Robbie came home . . . And the phone rang, I answered it. It was a man, asking me for my mother . . . Mom had just pulled into the drive. I called to her that she had a phone call. Worry was on her face, as she picked up the phone, her hands trembled, she knew. She had always known, since she took the detour, she just didn’t want to admit it to herself. It was the State Police, telling her that Dad had been in an accident, and that she had to come to the Station right away . . . My mom kept asking if he was okay . . . but they would not tell her. She kept asking what hospital he was in. But they would not tell her. She and my sister left for the Brimfield Police department . . . And I was still sitting at the kitchen table.
What seemed like hours upon end went by, In truth, it was only about an hour. The phone rang again, and I jumped up to get it. It was my sister, she was asking for her husband . . . She was crying . . . My sister and my father were closer than close . . . There could be no two people in the world that could have been closer. There was no wrong in Susan, at least in Dad’s eyes, and the same held for my sister. There was no man, living or dead, that could compare to him . . .
I called for **** . . . that is my sisters husbands name . . . He proved to live up to it in the moments following. At least in my eyes. He went into the dining room and shut the door. And then I heard him exclaim loudly ‘ ****” . . . and then come out, still on the phone . . . I kept asking him “ ****, how’s my dad, **** . . . “ . . . “ ****, HOW’S MY DAD, IS HE OKAY . . . **** . . . HOW’S MY DAD” . . . He turned around and shouted at the top of his lungs ‘ HE’S ****ING GONE RACHEAL . . . OKAY??? HE IS ****ING GONE” . . . And I stood there . . . staring at him . . . Half in disbelief that this is how this man just told me that my father was dead . . . Half in disbelief that . . . my father . . . was dead . . . I stood there for a moment. Picking a piece of candy orange out of my tooth with my tongue . . . It sat there on my tongue for a moment . . . the piece of candy orange that my father had handed to me a few hours previous . . . After handing it to me, asking me if I would like to come along with him . . . Take a ride . . . I had said no, that I would stick around with Sue . . . I walked out side to where Ben was, and then collapsed on the ground . . . screaming.. And screaming, screaming like I had never, and will never again . . . The neighbors stopped washing their cars and stared at me. My niece and Nephew, stared at me . . . Not knowing exactly what to do . . . they started to cry a little. But still, only being 11, and 10, they were spared what we felt . . . they were spared a little.
I then had to go tell my brother, who somehow through all this had been in the bathroom, and still did not know . . . My brother, who had gotten into a fight with my father the night before, and had told him to go to hell before speeding off to his own apartment. I knocked on the door, and Robbie came out, and I told him . . . Like me my brother walked outside . . . But he sat at the picnic table . . . and then . . . In one swing . . . Broke the solid wood table in half . . . In one single blow. And then sunk to the ground as I had. And started to sob.
Me, Ben and my brother jumped into Bens tiny ford ranger pick up. And methodically went to every surrounding area hospital in search of my father . . . We did not understand that he had been dead on the scene . . . We thought that he had died in a hospital, and my mother, sister, and oldest brother were there with him . . . I was the one in charge of going to every front desk, in every hospital that we went to , and ask for my father . . . Explaining to the Nurses who looked on with pity that I knew my father was dead. But we were trying to find where he was. And They would tell me, as softly as they could that they were sorry, but he was not there . . . At the sight of my face, one nurse actually broke down into tears.
We could not find my father . . . for he was not at a hospital . . . In fact, in utter disbelief to me now, he had already had his autopsy, and was sitting in the funeral home. The man who had only roughly five hours ago, given me a piece of candy, and I had sat on his lap asking what he was going to get me for my birthday, was already waiting to be embalmed . . . To this day I still don’t know how it was done so fast. Because the day after he was killed, we had a wake . . . And my Father was not killed till 4:15 in the afternoon . . . It happened all extremely quickly.
We went back home. In the truck, with a stick shift between my legs, I was very uncomfortable . . . and I was chain smoking like I have never chain smoked before . . . We arrived home, and got a call from my oldest brother Jimmy, who talked to Robbie . . . My brother, who had the tendency to be very morbid, told me that my father had been decapitated . . . I looked at him in horror, not believing what I was hearing. I jumped up. Not knowing what else to do, Picked up the phone and dialed our cousins in Maine . . . who we had just left three weeks ago . . . and told them what had happened to my father . . . I kept screaming over and over “”’ he was decapitated. He was decapitated . . . ” . . . My father . . . Had not been decapitated . . .
My father had basically been crushed to death . . . But it was instant. His brain stem was disconnected . . . no pain. No fear. No clue. But the impact of the Semi that had been speeding and fish tailed into my fathers dodge ram, had crushed the cab, the truck looked like an accordion. The steering column had gone into my father’s chest, and broken every single bone in his body. Please God let it have been instant . . . Please God do not let me believe what my brother now tells me . . . That he was still alive, for about 5 min, calling out my mothers name. The autopsy says his brain stem was disconnected . . . Please God, let that be true.
The house was compleaty void that night. My mother. Suffering the worst . . . She of course Felt that it was her fault that my father was dead. And in complete honesty, the thought has crossed my mind more than once. But it was NOT her fault. She delivered the keys, but did not put my father in the truck . . . She was NOT the Semi that was going 55 in a 25 around a hair pin turn . . . It was not her fault . . . But the pain she felt, I would never wish upon anyone in my life. Everyone was like a zombie . . . I had gone to the bathroom to smoke a cigarette, because my mother did not know I smoked . . . But in my hour of complete confusion, I walked out of the bathroom, and into the kitchen where everyone was . . . And then in a moment of realization of what I had in my mouth, did a 180, and headed the other way . . . Not that she would have cared at that moment. But that probably wasn’t the right time to have her realize that I was a smoker.
The days went on. The next day we went to my fathers Wake. There he was, lying in a beautiful coffin. But the makeup did not compleaty hide the bruises on his hands . . . But he looked good. Peaceful . . . He had no idea when he died of what had happened . . . You could tell. I developed an extremely sore throat that day. As I had to have people come up to me, telling me how sorry they were . . . Having Young John. Dad’s real son, come up to me and tell me that he was sorry I lost my “ papa”... Even at this time, John Jr. Had to rub it in that I was adopted by dad, and he did not consider me a sister, which I would have never wanted . . . But instead rubbed it in that he was really my grandfather, I wanted to shove something up his ass at that moment. Scream at him to get over his pompous self that I was more a biological child to my father than that bastard had ever been. People even used to say we looked alike . . . even there was not one drop of blood between us. Because not only, was he just my ADOPTED father. Biologically. He was not even my real grandfather . . . Moms first husband was . . . And Dad, was moms third husband . . . But the one that she loved by far the most. And always will. And Dad was whom EVERYONE of moms children considered their father . . . Yet none were his biological children . . .
July 13, was one of the most windy days in Massachusetts history . . . trees were blown down, and every thing was in flight . . . We joked that Dad wasn’t going out of this world without a bang . . . July 13 . . . Happy Birthday to me . . . We had a ceremony at the Catholic church in Spencer. I had not shed a tear since I found out that dad had died . . . not at the wake, nothing . . . but at the Church, when they wheeled the Casket Away, and the family gathered, The Stewarts . . . I broke down . . . Flipped my lid. And started to cry . . . Cry like I had gone completely out of my mind . . . I stumble to the Casket . . . And Knocked Three Times . . .
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12/17/2003, 10:31 pm
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