In Memoriam: Charles R. Jr.- Part Two
Of course my Dad was the type of person who knew his own mind and despite the protests of his friends decided to join the U.S Army. Never mind all the rhetoric he was being indoctrinated with, he was an American and found it was his duty to sign up. (I’m thinking that at that time he wasn’t so into Communism as he later became in life. But more about that later. My opinion is so lacking in information that I wouldn’t be surprised to be corrected by some of his aforementioned friends.) So while he was in the Army he was stationed here and about. About this time it was discovered that my Dad had a Mental illness and was honorably discharged. His illness, Paranoid schizophrenia. It did make him less loving, less brilliant, or less of anything. This illness just meant that he saw the world differently than most and with medication and therapy he was just like everybody else except for times when he was in his own world. I didn’t know of his illness in my growing up years, he told me when I was in College. It didn’t change the way I felt about him and it made me understand some of his behaviors when a was little a lot more. I just thought that Dad danced to a tune of a different drummer and I liked the music. Moving on.
This part is about to get murky so I apologize in advance. But it’s such an important part to me and God knows who else that to not mention it would be a crime.
My Father Charles met my Mother Linnett in Jamaica. (This is where it gets murky. But hang in there it’s an Memoriam for goodness sakes not a biography!) Charles was staying with a friend and/or stationed on leave. At any rate they met, they fell into like, (I can’t really say if they loved one another so), and they married. Anything else I could mention would fall under the category of None ya, as in none of your business so there! So Dad left Jamaica and did all the necessary paperwork to get his bride to America. In the 70’s was born to them a little girl, who is the author of this Memoriam. (For obvious reasons I cannot state my name. I am still writing under and assumed name so.) Charles had also adopted my sister D.R a daughter from a previous realasionship. (Once again None ya.)
When I was three years old they divorced but remained good friends, somewhat, throughout the years from what I had observed throughout my childhood. All the rest of their relationship, again none ya. This time it’s because I am not privilege nor is it my right to mention something about an relationship between two people. It was between these two however they might have included some individuals into their issues, so it will remain so until such time as I either get permission to talk about it or the survivors’ death. At any rate my Dad was fond of my Mother and loved me and my sister very much.
I looked forward to the times when he would visit us or whenever he would take us out for a day or a weekend. To me it was like Christmas, Fourth of July, and Halloween whenever he came for us. Dad took us to weekend trips, Museums, Art Galleries, and restaurants. Dad taught us how to behave and act around different classes of society and races. We were taught to respect other people’s differences and taught pride in our own. I liked to think however infrequent those visits, Dad had an impact on me that stays with me to this day.
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