Marilee was a foster child. Her mother had died of cancer, leaving three blond haired daughters to fend for themselves. Marilee was the youngest. She had a father who lived in a different town, in the same county. She didn't like to talk about her father much but when she did, she mocked him. She had a lot of resentment surrounding the fact that he hadn't taken care of her and her sisters and she blamed him for her mother dying. From her stories, I always imagined him as a hermit, living in a cave, poor, dirty, and not too smart.
Once when we were out and about town, creating one of our many adventures, Marilee saw her father. She screamed and hid and started acting really weird in the ways I knew her to carry on sometimes. I wanted to meet him and thought it was sad that she reacted to him in such a negative way. I talked her into approaching him and introducing me. I implored her to behave in a civil manner. He was a strange looking little guy who did come across as poor and not too smart. It seemed obvious to me that the reason he wasn't taking care of Marilee and her sisters was because he could barely take care of himself. I also recognized from his manner and the look in his eyes, that he loved Marilee and yearned for connection. He attempted to make conversation but she didn't have much of anything to say to him that wasn't rude. I was at a lost on how to improve the situation. He took five dollars out of his wallet and gave it to her, the only thing she was willing to accept from him and we were on our way.
The little I remember about Marilee's family history was that when her mother died, the three girls went to live with relatives where they were subjected to neglect, abuse and sexual molestation. They finally ended up in foster care.
It doesn't seem like much affection or bonding ever developed between Marilee and her foster families because she was continually jumping from one to another throughout the time that I knew her. I remember her placement with the single woman who had diabetes and was never home but had bowls filled with sugarless candy sitting around the house. Then there was the Seventh-Day Adventist family who made her go to church and fed her very well and put some meat on her bones and turned her white pasty complexion all rosy. I was shocked when she showed me the peek holes in her bedroom and the bathroom of one home that the father used to watch her through. Wherever she was placed, if the family didn't get rid of her soon enough, she would take care of herself by running away.
Marilee stayed with me a lot and we would stay up all night playing strange games and climbing out my bedroom window and running around the neighborhood. Sometimes we would go down to the corner gas station and rob the soda machine that was outside. The old fashioned machines had a door that opened and after you put your money in you would then grab a hold of the bottle you wanted and pull it free. We would bring along a bottle opener instead of money, pop the top, stick a straw inside and drink for free. Sometimes we would steal or vandalize different things. We were bad girls. But we were having our fun and we loved each other.
Once Marilee ran away from a foster home and decided she was done with the juvenile justice system. She was staying at a local draft resistance house and secretly disclosed her whereabouts to me. Her social worker was looking all over for her and was trying to get me to fess up and tell her where Marilee was staying. She got my mom involved and they both put the pressure on me. A deal was made between me and my mom and the social worker. My mom agreed to have Marilee stay with us and the social worker gave her OK. My mom drove me to where Marilee was staying and I told her the plan and talked her into coming home with us. She spent the night and the next day I left for school and my mom left for work, leaving her alone in the house. When we returned home, Marilee was gone. Her social worker had come and taken her away, placing her in another foster home in a different city. My mom was furious. I was heartsick. Marilee was angry with me and felt betrayed but she eventually forgave me.
We drifted apart. Occasionally we would bump into each other and exchange pleasantries. Years went by. More years went by. I got married and had a baby. I got divorced and had another baby. I moved to another state and got married. I had another baby and then another and another. One day a letter arrived. She had tracked me down and wanted to come and visit. I agree and she came. It was good to see her. It was sad to see her. A bittersweet reunion.
Marilee was a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic and was fairly stabilized on her medications when we reconnected. She told me some pretty harrowing stories about her life. At one point she was describing her "breaking point"-- a time in her life when the pain and suffering were so immense, her inner demons so frightful, as she balanced on the precipice of reality and insanity....
I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said "Oh sweetie, you made the choice to go over the edge." She looked at me and responded, "Yes. I couldn't take the pain anymore." I told her I understood and I did. I was filled with such a tender compassion. And appreciation for the grace in my own life. I clearly remembered my own immense pain and balancing on that same precipice. I had made a different choice.
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