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Parent Story

Patricia, Michael and Amanda's Story

It was a bitter cold day in December of 1986. My husband went to work around 8am. He must have walked that day because he left the car with the kids and me. I looked out the window to be sure he was out of sight. I began to dress the kids in their coats. Michael was just 3 and Amanda was 8 months. I had already packed their things and hid the bag the day before. But this was the day I had been planning. I had to leave like this or I would never get away. Shaking with fear I put my school books in a bag, packed the car, strapped in the kids and I was gone. I stopped at the university to sell my school books so I could have some gas money for the 4 hour trip to my mom and dad's house. I remember holding Amanda on one side and straining with the load of books in my other. I can still remember encouraging my three-year old to "come along", "you can do it" as his little legs struggled up the stairs to the bookstore. My arms were aching under the weight of the books. I got $64 for the used books. Driving those four hours nonstop, I was driven and determined. I was not going to ever go back to him again.

I had planned my "escape" for the day after school let out for winter break. I had left many times before, but this time it would be different. My parents had agreed to take me in anytime, and I was counting on them to be there for me at the other end. I had told them that this time was for good. I just needed an "anchor". Something that would keep me from going back. I needed to find strength in myself and for me that was the Nursing Program at Binghamton University. The moment I arrived, I dropped off the kids at my parents and went to the University Admissions office. I told the admissions director that I had to enroll that day; somhow I had to be enrolled in school when classes started in January. I needed to do this before "he" could come and find me. Several people that day helped me. I had applications filled out and met with an advisor who recommended classes to take in the spring so I could be in the nursing program in the fall. I am still amazed at how much I got done that first day. I really felt like I was going to make it this time.

Many struggles occurred that winter break. He did find me and he took the car back. He made many long trips back and forth trying to get me to return, but I knew I would not. I had a plan, a real plan this time, and I was free.

The only thing that I knew during those first few days was that I had an anchor now and somehow I would figure out all the little details later. But those details became pretty big obstacles. How was I going to get to school 5 days a week; I had no car and my parents only had one? Who would take care of Michael and Amanda while I was at school? How was I going to get some money to live on? I knew I couldn't rely a great deal on my parents, they didn't have much and I was just grateful for a place to stay. I assured my parents that I would not be a burden and I would handle obstacles.

I bought a bus pass and each morning I walked a mile and a half to the bus stop. I remember going into the Catholic Church to get warm when the bus was late. I got a part time night shift nurse's aide job and I was able to borrow my parent's car. But the pressures of work, school, exams, papers, being a mom and fighting with my husband became too much. Collapsing in my father's arms one night I remember him telling me that I would be alright, and it was OK to just concentrate on school and the kids. I stopped working and focused my energies on school and the kids. Maybe it's wrong that I put school work first and then my kids. But I didn't feel that I had many options. I knew that Michael and Amanda had their grandparents around most of the time for love and attention. If I didn't make it in school I might be tempted to give in again, got back to "him"; we might all go back, and I could not let that happen. He was always watching and hovering, waiting for me to fail and go back to him.

Then, money became a big problem. I needed to apply for Medicaid and food stamps. The Medicaid benefit was primarily to pay for daycare. I was given a list of providers (most of them several miles away) to choose from. The first 3 semesters of school was tough. Eventually, I was receiving child support payments and after a semester of riding the bus every day, my father co-signed a loan for me to get a car. I know it was a stretch for him to co-sign; I had no job. But it was his way of saying he believed in me. I hadn't had confidence in myself for a long time, but I knew that if he believed in me, I could believe in myself.

Childcare was a scary thing. Sometimes my mom would be able to watch the kids and I wouldn't have to take them to the providers from the list. A few of the places I only used once because I saw things that made me very concerned. Smoking by the providers, scary looking teenagers living in the house, or unemployed husbands home during the day. Sometimes it was the way the providers talked to the children and often it was just an inner feeling that this wasn't a safe place for my children. I just felt awful leaving them in some of those places. Only by the grace of God Himself did my children not suffer abuse or neglect during those times.

Traveling the rough road of abuse in a relationship for any length of time can push a person beyon their level of coping abilities. When I finally left my husband that last time, I entered the "suvivor mode". It was an eventual step beyond my coping abilities; a kind of natural instinct perhaps to keep going. But in the survivor mode I lost focus of the precious lives that were entrusted to me. In the survivor mode I stayed a victim of a past that I was running from. Those years were some of the toughest in my life.

One day my father told me about a place in Endicott that offered daycare. His sister's church began to support this daycare called Mom's House. It was too good to be true I thought. I called and immediately went to meet with the director. I filled out applications, gave them shot records and verified that I was enrolled full time in the Nursing Program at Binghamton University. Then, in September of 1988, Michael and Amanda began to attend Mom's House. We all loved it. There are so many aspects of Mom's House that held us there. It had open and spacious places for the kids to play and learn, it had equipment that was kid sized, it was clean, (I know this because I often cleaned as part of my volunteer requirement). But most of all, the staff and the teachers created an atmosphere of truly caring about the children, and me. They didn't see their role as simply providing a wonderful place for my children; they wanted to help me. They celebrated my accomplishments with me. Their newsletters even posted our good grades. Their role in the lives of the children and parents went beyond the superficial. The staff, teachers and volunteers helped in so many ways to keep us in school. They encouraged our abilities as students and mothers. This was more self confidence building for me.

While my children were being cared for at Mom's House, I knew that they were being well cared for by the staff. They were happy, they were having fun, and knowing that brought me a great sense of peace. For the first time in a long time I didn't have to worry about them.

I was able to do better at school and my grades went up. That was another great ego boost for me. That last year in nursing school produced my highest grades ever. I graduated with Honors from Binghamton University's Nursing Program in June 1989. Mom's House held a graduation ceremony for all of us. Even the children "graduated" with us. As each mom's name was called, her children walked with her to receive congratulations and recognition.

I went on to join the US Army Nurse Corps and I was stationed at Tripler Army Medical Center in Honolulu, Hawaii. I was promoted to Captain after 4 years and became the Nurse Manager of the Medical Specialties Clinic. I met future husband, Major Andrew Hunt, on a blind date in January 1993 and we were married in September of that same year. Ten years later we have moved back to Vestal and we have a son, Dylan who is 10.

Michael is 23 now and has completed 5 years in the United States Army as a Medical Laboratory Technician. Amanda is 21 and is in her second year at Broome Community College. She wants to work with autistic children.

It's 2007 and I see my name is in the first row on a plaque in the new Mom's House hallway. I am impressed to see so many names after mine. It doesn't seem so long ago. I am a student again, back at Binghamton University to pursue a masters in nursing. I have returned to Mom's House, this time for a school project. Walking into the new building I sense the same feelings as in the old Endicott building. Love, caring, genuine warmth and smiles. My heart is so excited to see the changes.

Some might see Mom's House as a safe and loving daycare; a place that supports single moms or dads while they are obtaining an education. But Mom's House offers so much more, it's a place for the care and nurturing of "families". I am thankful that Mom's House came into my life and the lives of my children.