My mother had been living in Buffalo after my father had fled the scene via Canada for Oregon. I had made sort of a project of trying to relocate my parents out west to Oregon but the way things unfolded was a bit strange.
They had the house in Kenmore on Girard Blvd. and the first to bail was my father who simply could not endure his situation and decided to drive across Canada to live somewhere in Oregon near Angela and me.
The house on Girard Blvd
He essentially abandoned Jeanette, my mother, who was now an out-patient from the Buffalo State Mental hospital living along in the house on Girard and spending some time with a foster family down the street . Sidney enjoyed driving and so he set out to drive to Oregon going across Canada as some sort of renewal of his life that had been burdened for so many years, at least in his opinion, by having to care for a mental case, my mother.
I say “opinion”, because in my estimation the psychological abuse she received contributed a lot to her illness and, in any event, she was a sweet, caring woman who labored on forever on behalf of her family. These things are always messy, complicated, and it, as always, depends on your own slant on things. Enough said.
Anyways, while my father was living away in Oregon, when my mother, living alone in near the north pole style weather of Buffalo, is on her way to the supermarket and slips on the ice and breaks her hip. She ends up in the hospital and since she was an out patient of the Buffalo State Hospital, is transferred there where she is warehoused and on top of the operations to fix a broken hip, comes down with psuemonia. For a while it is touch or go.
Luckily I get wind of the goings on from letters my mother sends me and also from Sharon Fischer, an activist friend of the family, who visited my mother in the State Hospital. I believe it was Sharon who saved my mother’s life at that point. Eventually my brother agrees to out her on an airplane and have her shipped out to me in Oregon where, I am thinking, she can get much better care. Ha! Eventually she ends up in the Oregon State Hospital, the site of the goings on in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” by Ken Keasey. But I am getting ahead of my story.
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