You get to shine and glow and ultimately discover that not all that glitters is golden.

(Posted by Gayle)

We’ve all got a tale to tell. In my private practice,  a client, when sharing his or her story,  will often comment “I should write a book.”   Many of us feel that way from time to time.  The problem is that unless you are Barack Obama, Bill Clinton, The Donald, or some other celebrity very few people will really pay to hear all about your own personal drama.  We’ve each got a story to tell.  Why pay for drama when all you have to do is take a trip home for the holidays?!   I will spare you the book version of my life.  There were, however,  some compelling components woven together to create who I became and set the stage for Ron to walk into my life and sweep me off my feet.

People need to understand the impact of their childhood. We can all say, “it’s in the past -  I can’t change it – why look back?”  It’s in the past alright,  just like all the electrical wiring and plumbing in your house are in the past.  The were indeed installed long ago, but they still function today.  When they break (the older the system, the more susceptible to breakdown it becomes) it causes major problems and can even destroy your house.  So don’t tell me the past isn’t important today.  If you are responsible, you’ll understand your wiring and know where the weak spots are.  You’ll re-wire the old archaic systems with more durable and modern parts.  For the most part, Ron and I did our re-wiring jobs while married to each other.  Had we left the old systems in place, the nay sayers who said “it will never last” would have been right.

The first 17 years of my life are broken into three distinct eras.

Luster Dominance:  The  “Midway 3 – 1900″ Years

See that phone in my dad’s hand?  It’s gold metallic.  What’s notable about a gold dial phone in the early 1960′s is that it was specially ordered and cost a fortune.  They had to be hand made.  I still have that phone.  It even works.  I was taught how to answer the phone by the time I was 5.  Our phone number was MIdway(64)3-1900. (You can read about the history of alpha-numeric phone numbers here.) When it rang, I would pick it up and say “Midway 3 – Nineteen Hundred.”  It was our home phone, but my dad’s office was also in our home so it was also the business telephone.  Whenever it rang, it was always answered as “Midway 3 nineteen hundred.”

My father was a prominent business man in Chicago.  He was very successful.  He lived large.  We lived large.  No extravagance was spared.  My memories of that era include:

• dining out many times a week.
• Shopping for new clothes every school year at Marshall Field’s in downtown Chicago with my dad, not my mother.
• Diamonds, furs, sterling silver, island vacations,  and dolls from London.
• Chivas Regal bought by the case.
• A new Cadillac each year.  One year it would be black and the following year it was white.  One year he took a major risk and got a white Caddy with a black leather roof.
• Private school (the same school the Obama girls attended)
• Huge parties in our home.
• Serving drinks to guests.
• Learning to shake hands by the time I was 4.
• Raising my hand and being called on by my parents before I could speak if adults were present.

There are sweeter memories too:

• Trips to the Art Institute, the Museum of Science and Industry, The Adler Planetarium, and the The Field Museum of Natural History with my mother.
• Going to see Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music, and My Fair Lady with my mother multiple times.
• I shook hands with Dr. Christiaan Barnard (I begged my parents to take me to a luncheon in his honor) and Queen Elizabeth II waved at me from a parade car.
• Flying kites.
• My first dog Tudy.
• Elaborate birthday parties in my honor.
• My dad teaching me how to play Black Jack with Vegas rules (dealer takes a hit on 16 and must stand pat with 17.)
• Rousing games of Monopoly and Clue – just me and Dad
• Shopping for hours with my mom and aunt.
• Swimming for hours at the hotel pool next door.
• Getting to have the class guinea pig spend the weekend with me over Thanksgiving (I got to keep her for 4 whole days!)
• Being on the Bozo the Clown show.
• My own playroom filled with enough toys to stock a small store.

It was an opulent existence but the luxury came with a price.  I also remember:

• My father’s rage being directed at my mother in a violent way.  There was screaming, yelling, hitting, and throwing.  When I was 6 or 7 my father was in a rage and threw a box of chocolates at my mother.  I remember crawling around on the floor trying to get all the candies back in their little brown paper cups.  It seemed I was always desperate to pick up his pieces.  He was good at getting someone else to fix what he broke.
• Looking out the window of our 9th floor apartment over Lake Shore Drive in the wee hours of the morning with my mother.  We would be watching for taxis to turn onto our street hoping they would return my drunken father to us in one piece.
• My mother crawling into my bed with me late at night because my dad had kicked her out of their room.
• My father being gone so very much of the time.
• Being very lonely.  I coped by living in a fantasy world.  With an absent father it should be no surprise that my first true love was Lorne Green.  He played The father on the television series Bonanza.  I cried for hours when the news story broke that Lorne had married a woman named Nancy Deale (who happened to be 18 years his junior.)  Next I had a major crush on Pernell Roberts who played Adam,  and then fell for Michael Landon of Little Joe fame.  Nothing like blazing through the whole darn Cartwright family (except Hoss.)

(NOTE:  As I’m writing this, I’m thinking about the times back then.  No Disney Channel – no Nickelodeon – no Zach Ephron – no boy bands.  The men little girls dreamed about were much older.  Even the Beatles were in their early 20′s when they “invaded” the US.   No wonder falling in love with Ron seemed so natural.  I’ve been in love with older men my entire life!)

It’s really a tale of surviving and thriving. Tomorrow you’ll find out what happens when a little girl needs to pee and there is no potty to be found. Subscribe to our RSS feed.

Read Part 1 of Ron’s Story

Read Part 2 of Ron’s Story

Read Part 1 of My Story

Read Part 2 of My Story

Read Part 2b of My Story