AGREEMENTS: Lessons I Chose on My Journey toward the Light. Linda Stein-Luthke

classes in each new town we lived in. I also took painting classes and helped establish a pre-school in a subdivision we lived in. Just as roots and stability would begin to take hold in one place, we would be on to the next new town. Nothing felt permanent.

      Since this was the 70’s, the drug culture permeated Barry’s company and he began to indulge. Once we moved closer to headquarters, he insisted that I at least smoke marijuana at the parties we had to attend. My family had never indulged in any kind of mind altering substances (except prescription drugs) and they would have never approved of this. So, I adamantly refused. Barry said I was ruining his career with my behavior and needed to join the party. I reluctantly agreed and proved to still be a “party pooper” because I would find a cozy corner and fall asleep after two puffs. But at least I’d taken two puffs.

      Toward the end of the marriage we moved back to Cleveland to be near family. I was pregnant with Todd, and we thought having family around to support us might help. Barry’s parents quickly made it clear that they had no plans to help us but instead wanted to keep finding issues that would continue to separate us from them. They were quite successful in these attempts and we seldom saw them.

      My stepmother, Carolyn did supply loving support and looked on both Zack and Todd as if they were her grandchildren. She knew she could never replace my parents, and she never tried. But she did give us all the love and support she could. And that was a great gift.

      After Todd’s birth, I learned that the National Organization for Women was forming a chapter in Cleveland. My sister Bobbie had encouraged me to read a book called The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan. The book resonated deeply with me and I eagerly joined the organization. After attending my first meeting of NOW, they offered me the position of co-chair of the consciousness raising group. This was a group that met to discuss reasons we should be angry and demand change in their lives. They put me on TV, radio, in print and before a group of four hundred women at the International Women’s Year conference in Cleveland.

      They really thought I knew what I was talking about. I didn’t.

      After speaking before those four hundred women at the International Women’s Year conference, I left the podium to a rousing applause and promised myself I would never stand before any group and talk about anything again until I actually knew what I was talking about. And I never did.

      I might be good at speaking. I knew that this must be true because that was what the group kept telling me. But being able to talk didn’t always equate with knowing what was helpful to say. I was embarrassed and felt that I’d let myself be flattered into thinking that I was a spokesperson for this organization.

      There were many women there who truly believed that NOW would solve all their problems. I knew this wasn’t true. I’d still be a lonely woman who had lost her parents, had children that she was parenting on her own, and who had a husband that she no longer loved. NOW wasn’t going to fix any of that.

      I didn’t realize until much later that the reason they chose me to speak for them had a lot more to do with the Light that was flowing through me rather than any of the words I was saying. I was completely clueless about the Light at that time and didn’t understand the power of this energy that carried my words into the groups I was talking to. They didn’t hear my words as much as feel my energy. Now I understand this.

      Shortly after Todd's birth, Carolyn was diagnosed with cancer. She had always been there for me -- I was now there for her. I cared for her as much as I possibly could during this first year of my son Todd's life. I cherished this time with her, even as the cancer took its toll. As Carolyn lay dying, Barry told me he found all this additional pressure too much to handle and left. The marriage was over and it was finally time for me to find myself.

      Chapter 10

      Orphaned, Divorced, Afraid – and Free

      The morning that Carolyn died, I found Barry sitting in our living room appearing very dejected and out of place. He’d come to offer me comfort, which was kind, but he had no plans to attend the funeral. Carolyn’s children, now newly married young adults, stepped into the breach and took care of all the plans.

      My sisters were unable to attend or offer much support. Sandy had moved to California and also was alone as she dealt with her husband’s imminent death from an aggressive bone cancer. Bobbie had just had a perilous second delivery of a baby girl. At the time of delivery, the doctors discovered that she had two uteruses and that is why her first daughter had died at birth. She was not well, and because of all my difficulties chose not to share her problems. She did offer to have my brother Howard come live with her since she was still married and could offer more stability than I could.

      Losing Carolyn was difficult for all of us. We’d loved her dearly. But the family was actually somewhat giddy the day of the funeral for we were relieved that she was no longer suffering. We actually were laughing hysterically as we pulled up to the graveside in my stepbrother’s rickety VW bus. Everyone looked so serious as they waited for us, that we had to drive around Lakeside cemetery one more time before we could compose ourselves, get out and go to the ceremony. As we gathered at the family home after the simple ceremony, we laughed and cried together. Her kind spirit filled the space and we remembered her with love in our hearts.

      My stepbrothers graciously forgave the loan that Carolyn had given us for the down payment on our house, so at least for the time being, I could stay where I was while I figured out how to pay for the groceries.

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      I decided it was time to make “man’s money.” I had no idea how I would do that, but I had to find a way. In a moment of madness, I decided to try sales. No too many women were taking this path in 1975, but I really didn’t think I had a choice.

      My rationale was simple. My grandmother, father, father-in-law, and husband had been or were still in sales. Why wouldn’t I think I might know something about this field? If that rationale didn’t work, I could just say it must be in my blood too.

      To my great surprise, this career choice actually worked. I was stunned when the woman at Jewish Vocational Services agreed with me and sent me on an interview. I was hired immediately and began to sell something called “advertising specialty items.” This was a fancy way to describe junk with a company’s logo on it. I was terrified that every sales call would end in disaster, but somehow people bought the stuff and liked me enough to talk with me while they were signing their company’s money away. Before each call, to get courage, I would spit my gum into the bushes outside the company’s door. It was a dumb way to feel that I had something on these people. While it probably didn’t do much for the environment, it seemed like a good-luck charm at the time.

      Newly divorced, my boys and I also needed a home that was a more comfortable fit, financially and otherwise. At that time we were living in a very white, homogenous community and I was feeling stifled as a divorcee in such an environment – feeling “different” once again. I decided we had to move to the local hippy community where the schools were integrated. I had missed out on so much of the 70’s playing the role of a corporate wife that I felt it was time to catch up.

      Luckily, a local realtor knew the perfect spot for us. It was a huge side-by-side duplex in the Coventry area of Cleveland Heights. The woman who lived on the other side of the duplex was a professor at the local community college. The realtor and I convinced her that we could buy the house together. None of the banks really wanted to look at two women doing such a thing, but eventually one relented, and I was on my way to financial independence.

      Everything was beginning to feel pretty miraculous to me. Yet, I was still lonely, bitter, and sad because my boys had a father who didn’t seem to really care. In spite of all that, I was soldiering on.

      In those days, being in sales really was a much rougher way for a woman to earn her keep.