MY BRAND NEW MOUTH

Avis's condition worsened and she became increasingly more difficult. She was thrown out of the Home for damaging personal property. She pulled wires from the TV and other appliances. She also used her hands to wipe herself after using the toilet and went into the owner's closet and got feces all over their clothes. The other elderly women there were afraid of her. My father had just paid for the month and was furious! They kept the money to cover her damages. He was given only 24 hrs. to find a new place. Thankfully, he didn't bring her home!

At this point in time, we were getting ready to put our river house up for sale. That was put on hold. My father found another place, owned and operated by black women. Avis had a southern accent so thick you couldn't cut it with an axe. She kept referring to the women there as "This pickaninny and that pickaninny." Dad said he hoped they made allowances for her condition. Personally, I hope they spit in her food.

Several years before, my father purchased a Lincoln Continental in an attempt to keep up with our nouveau riche neighbors. Now the car was having mechanical problems. One of our nicer neighbors, a seasonal resident and a single lady was driving us to the grocery store. I locked my apt. as usual, before going over to the main house. My father was waiting. He appeared agitated.

"You didn't lock the guesthouse, did you?" His voice displayed anger.

Of course I did. I couldn't understand why he seemed upset.

"I can't believe how stupid you are!" He clutched his forehead. "My keys are with the mechanics at the garage! You are just SO stupid! He began waving his arms. His tirade seemed endless. Egads! I was the most stupid person who ever lived! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He repeated over and over.

I told him I wasn't a mind reader!

"You knew I took the car down for repair!" he hollered. "You're just stupid!

I assumed he had just given them his car key. But he gave them his entire key ring, house keys and all to be kept over night! Plus he intended to leave our home unlocked while we grocery shopped! I told him our lives and property were in danger, thanks to him! (Talk about stupid!) Suddenly he looked sheepish.

If I had $5. for every time Dad called me "STUPID", I could afford a hillside chateau overlooking the beach in the South of France.

Previously, he had been quick to label me "mental" and fell in line with the distorted thinking of Avis and certain neighbors. However unlike Avis, my psychiatrist and therapists were all behind me.

Perhaps, due to guilt, my father announced he would make 1 fantasy of mine real. He thought it would be a trip to China. A place I've always wanted to visit. Back in my 20's I traveled quite a bit. I made 5 trips to Europe, 3 to Central America. Plus I also went to Russia, Finland, and North Africa. These were fully escorted tours. The wonderful part was I didn't have to drive, nor did I have to fly the plane. And for awhile it was helping me to overcome my extreme shyness and build confidence.

At age 19 I wanted to attend an airline academy several hours away. Room and board were included in the job training. There were all kinds of jobs! I wanted to work inside an airport, rather than be a stewardess. A representative was scheduled to come and talk with us. When I informed my father, his reaction had left me dismayed.

"It's the wrong type of job for you. You're just not suited for this." He was always so matter-of-fact.

I wanted to at least give it a try! He was vehemently against it and didn't want any argument. I pleaded with him to at least hear out the representative since I had no way of cancelling the meeting. He refused.

An hour before the man was scheduled to arrive, my father left in the car. (I never knew where he went.) In 1970, a 19 yr. old didn't have the same rights as an adult. Legally, I couldn't sign anything. When the Rep. arrived, I told him, "I changed my mind." which was a lie.

A year later, my father bought our family business of almost 10 years. Working there enabled me to afford all those fabulous trips. But had I gone to work for an airline, I could have taken them all for much cheaper. And I'd probably still be traveling today! I've always wondered what my life would have been had I taken that path.

Anyway, I wanted something more permanent than a vacation. It always bothered me that I had such an ugly smile. I had a few too many crooked teeth along with undefined lips. I had eyes other girls envied, and good facial bones. But I was embarrassed to smile. I was pretty only when I kept my mouth closed.

When I was 12, we were shooting pictures to send relatives for Christmas. I would only smile with closed lips. My mother got irate because our relatives complained I always looked too grim or overly serious. She began slapping my face ordering me to smile! Instead I burst out crying! Dad made her leave the room while he photographed me. Every time I look at those pictures, I still get a sick feeling.

Most of my mothers physical abuse took place out of my father's sight. On occasion, she slipped. When I was 11 she slammed a fist into the back of the skull with so much force, my father gasped! ( All because I didn't want my hair curled.) I expected him to become enraged, and tell her never to do it again! Instead he made a lame joke and dismissed it. I shouldn't have been surprised. That was his typical way of handling problems.

Because we would soon be leaving, we decided against braces for something faster. So I got a mouth full of crowns. Also, I wanted more definition in my lips to complement my new porcelain teeth. So I set up an appointment to have my lips tattooed.

The young woman doing the work had so many tattoos on her body she looked like a circus freak. My father asked if I really wanted someone who looked like that touching me. He questioned her judgement on beauty. All I was having done was minor cosmetic work.

She numbed my lips with a topical anesthesia before she began. By the time she got to the corners of my mouth, it had worn off. I'd be lying if I didn't say, it hurt like a bitch!

Afterward, my lips had swollen to about 4 times their size. (This is normal after the procedure.) I looked like Goldie Hawn in that comedy where she had the lip injections. The swelling only lasted a day. I had to drink hot coffee through a straw. But I had to go back twice for touch-ups because she got my lips lop-sided.

At long last, I owned a smile of which I was proud! And my new smile and I would be starting life over in a new city!

In the meantime, Avis kept running away from the Home. She would flag down strange cars claiming to be lost and ask them to drive her back to Stuart. Fortunately, she couldn't remember our address. So each time, she was taken to the Police Station. Eventually, the police wanted to put an ankle monitor on her. Dad was against the idea.

My father was getting old, and his reflexes were slowing. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to drive. When we moved to Vero, I would have to overcome my life-long anxiety attacks and get a driver's license. Just the thought was stressful!

Before we moved, I was playing a fortune-telling game.-- You take a book (any one) ask a question, then close your eyes as you flip pages. And whatever sentence your finger lands on, will be your answer. I inquired, if my father and I would be happy in Vero. The answer was, ONE WILL GO, which I found unsettling.

Less than a week later, my father suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized.