ElleSpeak

Lost Love & Found Treasure

Part One

Every family has stories of lost love and found treasure. Here’s one of mine.
When I was a little girl growing up in our humble home on Chester Street my two brothers and I spent every possible moment outdoors during the long days of Summer, rain or shine.

If the sun was shining, you might have found me climbing the apple tree in our back yard, perched high on our swing set before falling back to hang upside down until my face turned a deep shade of red, or maybe testing my athletic skills by “skinning the cat” over and over again from the top bar.

My two brothers and I often whooped it up as cowboys and Indians, played tag, hide and seek, kick the can, badminton, softball, croquet, or willingly entered into any made-up game where the rules might change from minute to minute, sometimes ending with a trip indoors to tearfully ask Mom to settle a dispute.
When the Concord grapes on our grape arbor were ripe, our neighborhood friends were invited to join in the feast, popping the soft, sweet, grape flesh into our mouths, one after the other, spitting out the seeds, and tossing aside the bitter purple skins.

Not wanting to miss a moment of outdoor fun, we ventured inside only to cool off while guzzling a glass of red kool-aid, or to hurriedly choke down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch.

Finally, when the sky turned too dark for us to see what we were doing, we unwillingly gave up the day of play to a night of much needed rest; but, sometimes when the moon was full, Mom might sit outside with us in the green metal lawn chairs she had given a fresh coat of paint in early Spring, gazing up at the sky and talking with us about whatever was on her mind.

This particular evening, my brothers were already inside, in their pajamas, engrossed in a show on television. Mom and I sat outside, sometimes talking, sometimes just silently enjoying the stars and the summer night. I could tell she was enjoying our moments alone together.

Mom told me many times that when she was pregnant with me, she prayed for a little girl, with blonde hair and brown eyes, and she got exactly what she asked for…..except she forgot to ask for this little girl to adore her above all others.

I loved my Mom, but it was evident to her and everyone else that I was wild about my Dad, and she made no secret of the fact that she was quite envious of my feelings for him. She wanted me to adore her like I adored him, and that just wasn’t my truth, and that bothered her, sometimes greatly.

My Mom was a loving mother who lavished affection on me and my brothers, and she was an intelligent, kind woman, who for the most part, was easy to be around. Occasionally though, she mixed up true stories with made up stories, and would embarrass me deeply by talking about inappropriate things at the family dinner table, or around my friends. She was a good mother, but I wasn’t always entirely comfortable around her because her behavior could sometimes be unpredictable.

Pulling her eyes away from gazing at the moon Mom looked toward me and said slyly, “You know your Daddy has another little girl, and she’s blonde, just like you. Her name’s Candi.”

With my brown eyes wide open, I asked her incredulously, “Really? Where is she?” and then, “Why don’t I know her?”

Mom answered, “I don’t know exactly where she lives, but it’s somewhere out West, far away from here.”

I looked up at the moon and wondered what it would be like to have a sister, and I wondered if she might be looking up at the moon too, and then…did she know about me???

Mom said she was blonde like me, but in what other ways were we alike? Was she pretty? What did she like to do? Maybe she’d be one of those girly girls who liked to play with dolls. Yuk!! I hoped not! Sandwiched in between two brothers I had become quite a tomboy, and I hoped Candi was a tomboy too, but I thought I’d probably like her, even if she wasn’t.

The rest of that conversation has disappeared from my consciousness over the years, but Mom never mentioned Candi again, neither did I, and neither did Dad. I imagine I must have wanted to ask Dad about Candi, or maybe tell my brothers about her, but I never did.

Perhaps Mom warned me not to talk about it because it was a taboo subject…or maybe I didn’t quite believe her. Even at a young age I knew I couldn’t always trust her to tell the absolute truth. I don’t remember…but I always remembered Candi’s name and wondered where she was, especially when I looked up at the moon.

Forty years later my Dad called me from his home in Nashville, IN. He and my stepmother had retired there so Dad could spend more time in his art studio, painting and teaching porcelain arts. They had also opened a successful perfume and bath shop called The French Connection in the small, artsy, resort town.
I could hear the excitement in his voice as he said, “Hey Hon! I’m calling a family pow-wow this weekend to talk about something important. Can you be here on Sunday?”

I replied, “Sure! I’ll be there, but can you tell me a little something about what we’ll be talking about? “

He hesitated and then said, “Well, I have something I want to tell you.”

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but before I could speak, he went on in a rush, to say, “You have a sister and I want to tell you about her.”

I asked him calmly, “Dad, is her name Candi?”
I imagined I could hear his mouth falling open before he answered, “Yes, but how did you know?”

I said, “I’ll tell you the whole story on Sunday. Dad, I’m glad she’s found you.”

Little did I know at the time that I would be especially glad she had found me too!

Part Two
Candi’s mother’s name was Billye, and she was a pretty woman who loved a good time, but would never find true or lasting happiness, with or without a man. She was in and out of unhappy, unhealthy relationships, and for most of her younger years, Candi was reluctantly swept along in her mother’s roller coaster life.

The first six years of Candi’s life were spent living with her grandparents, who she loved very much. They were solid, loving, no nonsense people who held a strong faith in God. They made sure she knew she was loved, gave her what she needed in her young life, and every Sunday she went along to church with them. Those first six years gave Candi a strong inner core she would rely on for the rest of her life, but especially when she began living with her mother.

Billye was married again, living in Texas with her new husband, and she brought Candi, who was six years old at the time, to come and live with them. Candi attended school, but, was frequently left at home alone after school and late into the evening. She learned at a very early age how to take care of herself.

Billye’s unhappy, abusive marriage inevitably ended a few years later, while Candi was spending the summer with her grandparents in Vandervoort, Arkansas. Candi was quite surprised when she woke up one morning and looked out the window to find her mother and a U-Haul truck in her grandparents’ front yard.

While Billye’s husband was working nights, she had secretly packed all her belongings and Candi’s, and then hid the boxes in the spare room. One evening, right after he left for work, she loaded the truck and fled to Arkansas.

The same morning Candi awoke to find her mother in the front yard, Billye told her they were moving to Oklahoma City. Candi begged her to stay in Arkansas with her grandparents, but Billye told her she had other family members and job opportunities in Oklahoma City, and that’s where they were going.

For a few years now, Candi had been asking her mother over and over again, who her Daddy was, and where he lived, and Billye had ignored her question again and again, until one day she finally answered by telling Candi that her father had been killed in the war. Candi didn’t believe it! She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew her mother was lying to her. She knew in her heart that her father was still alive, and she wondered if just maybe she had sisters or brothers too.

Years later, in 1992, Billye died, and Candi wondered for the thousandth time if she would ever meet her father. She found her birth certificate and saw her father’s name, Harry Hugar, and that he had been born in Altoona, Pennsylvania. Altoona…a place to start her search…whenever she found the courage to begin that journey.

In 1995 Candi was still living in Oklahoma City, and after the OKC bombing, she and her best friend Brenda visited the bombing site and were deeply moved; they mourned the loss of so many lives cut short by so much hatred.

Brenda turned to Candi and asked her, “How would you feel if you tried to find your Dad and were told that he had just died? If you’re ever going to find him, you need to be figuring out how that’s going to happen. You never know what life is going to bring.”

They went straight home to Brenda’s house and Candi called her daughter Marti, who lived only a block away, and told her, “I’m going to try to find your Grandpa”.

Marti answered, “I’ll round up the boys and we’ll be right there.”

Candi wondered…If I do this…am I just opening an ugly can of worms? Is he out there somewhere, really? Does he even know I exist? Will he acknowledge me as his daughter? Will he be excited to meet me, or will he choose to have nothing to do with me? Can I live with the rejection if he isn’t interested in knowing me at all?

Finally, after years of imagining how this search might end, she mustered her courage and told Marti and Brenda she was ready. Marti, who was a take charge woman from the day she was born, called 411, “I’d like the phone number for Harry Hugar please. He lives in Altoona, PA.”

After a quiet moment, that must have seemed like an hour to Candi, the operator responded, “I don’t find a Harry Hugar in Altoona, but there is a Louis Hugar. Would you like that number?”

Marti answered, “Yes please. I’ll take that number.”

Part Three
She hung up and dialed the number the operator had given her, and on the third ring a woman answered, “Hello.”

Marti asked, “Is this the residence of Louis Hugar?” The woman answered, “Yes, it is.”

Marti said, “I’m looking for a Harry Hugar. Do you know him?”

The woman answered, “Yes, he’s my husband’s brother, but he doesn’t live in Altoona, he lives in Nashville. Would you like that number?”

Marti replied, “So he lives in Nashville? Yes, I’d like his number. That would be great! Thank you!”

As she wrote down the number, and before she could hang up the phone, her three boys were looking at their Mema (Candi) with big saucer-like eyes, saying, “Wow! Our great Grandpa’s a country music star!” Everyone started laughing, all grateful for a little light-heartedness, and then Marti turned and met her mother’s eyes, “So, this is it, Mom. He really is out there. Are you ready?”

Candi looked around the room and saw faces she knew and loved dearly, faces of people who loved her back, just as dearly as she loved them. These were the people who had always been there for her whenever she needed them, and she had always been there for them, at a moment’s notice. These were the people who would still be there for her after this call was made, who would still love her, no matter what this call might or might not bring into her life, and into theirs…it must have taken her breath away for a moment…because she noticed she wasn’t breathing.

Her breath was on hold…and in some ways she felt that a part of her life had been on hold for years. How many times had she thought about making this call? Until now, she had always decided the time just wasn’t right…maybe next month…maybe next year…maybe never. Behind each of those decisions lurked the overpowering fear of what she might find on the other end of that phone line.

Each time she seriously considered making the call, she wondered how the man who she thought might be her father, would respond to her reaching out to him. Would he acknowledge her as his own? Would he welcome her call or immediately reject her?

If he did welcome her into his life, what exactly did that mean? For all she knew, he could be a con man, a drunk, a thief, a wife beater, a mean son of a bitch, or any number of other evil things! Wouldn’t that just be her luck?!
Really though…was he a good person? Could he be trusted with her heart, and with her precious family? Was she doing the right thing? She decided that she needed to know, one way or the other.

Her breath came back with a start as she looked at Marti, “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Marti picked up the phone and handed it to her Mom, but Candi pushed the phone back toward Marti and said, “You talk to him first, please.”

Marti, whose courage always rolled off the tip of her tongue with ease, dialed the Nashville number, and when she heard the male voice on the other end, she leaped right into the deep unknown, and asked, “Is this Harry Hugar?”
The voice on the other end of the line answered, “Yes, it is.”

The words rushed out of Marti’s mouth and flew into Harry’s ear, “Mr. Hugar, my name is Marti and I’m calling you for my Mom. During the war, were you stationed in Amarillo, Texas and did you know a Billye Margaret Chilton?”
Harry answered nervously, “Yes, to both those questions, but why are you asking?”

Marti replied, “We think you might be my mother’s father.”

Brenda was sitting close to Candi and reached out and lightly touched her hand as they both waited for a response from this man in Nashville.

Without hesitating, Harry replied with a question, “Is her name Candi?”

Looking at her Mom and almost shouting into the phone’s mouthpiece, she replied, “Yes, my Mom’s name is Candi!”

Candi’s heart pounded, her mouth fell open, and tears filled her eyes…the eyes of the daughter of the man from Nashville, whose name was Harry.

Candi’s emotions were overwhelming, and the words that lived in her heart weren’t ready yet to make the journey to her mouth…..so Marti and Harry talked together a little longer and ended the call with the promise of more talks in the near future.

A day or so later Marti called Harry again, and this time he asked, “When will I be able to talk to your Mom?”

Candi still wasn’t sure she could trust her mouth to work properly, but she wanted to hear his voice, hoping it might somehow tell her something important about him; so, she was listening in on the extension phone in the other room, and she heard his question to Marti.

She hesitated for only a second, and then, she spoke out loud. She spoke the two words she had imagined saying to him for as long as she could remember, the two words she had always wanted him to know, “I’m here.”

Part Four
For the first time in her life, Candi, who was almost 50 years old, was speaking with the man she thought might be her father. On Candi’s birth certificate her mother had registered him as Father: Harry Hugar, but, when Candi was a little girl, she had asked her mother over, and over, again, “Who’s my Daddy and where is he?”. Eventually, her mother had put an end to the questions with a curt reply, “Your Daddy was killed in the war”.

Somehow…Candi never believed it…somehow…she knew her mother wasn’t telling her the truth…but she had accepted the answer and never asked again.

Now, four years after her mother’s passing, Candi discovered she had been right all along, and she had found him. He was very much alive, and speaking to her from Nashville, IN. She was excited to be talking with him, but she also wondered why her mother had lied to her, and she wondered if she would ever know the truth.

They were making plans to meet in a couple of weeks after Candi returned home from a two-week training seminar for work. At that time, he would be driving to Wichita, Kansas for a statewide china painting show where he would teach his painting techniques and sell his china painting products. After the show was over, he would drive to Oklahoma to meet Candi and her family. The plans were set!

Candi hung up and called her daughter Marti to tell her about the plans. Marti said, “That’s great Mom! He can stay with us while he’s here!”
Candi almost shouted, “No way Marti! We don’t know anything about this man yet. He could be a serial killer for all we know! Let’s just meet him and see what happens.”

During these two weeks of waiting, Candi’s long-time best friend, Brenda, wrote a letter to Harry to let him know what a fine person his daughter was, and how much the upcoming meeting meant to her. The letter brought tears to Harry’s eyes, and he looked forward to meeting his daughter, someone he once thought he might never come to know.

After two long weeks that seemed so much longer, Harry knocked on the door of Candi’s house in Moore, OK where Candi and Marti were waiting anxiously to meet him. They gave each other tentative hugs and sat down and talked for a while, and then Harry said, “I’m pretty hungry, how about I take you two out to someplace nice for dinner? “

Candi and Marti said, “Sure, does Red Lobster sound okay? There’s one not too far from here.”

Harry smiled and said, “Sounds good! Let’s go.”

At the restaurant as they sat and talked, getting to know each other, Marti noticed Harry’s hands, and said excitedly to Candi, “Mom, look at his hands! Look at his little fingers! Your little finger is just like his!”

Candi looked at Harry’s hands and noticed both of his little fingers were permanently bent at the first joint. Candi looked at the pinky on her right hand and saw a little finger that looked identical to Harry’s.

A doctor had told her mother once that he could easily fix Candi’s little finger by snipping the tendon and releasing the finger, but her mother chose not to have that done. Candi now wondered, “Is this why she didn’t want me to get my little finger fixed?”. They all looked at the matching pinky fingers and laughed, shaking their heads back and forth, and smiling at each other.

The next day, Saturday, Harry’s wife, Jean, flew into Oklahoma to join him for this reunion, and on Sunday Candi fixed lunch for her three children, and seven grandchildren, who were all eager and happy to meet their new relative. Candi introduced Harry as her father, and Harry told Candi he would welcome it if she would call him “Dad”.

For almost 50 years Harry had wondered where Candi was, and what her life might be like. He had wondered about what Billye might have told her, and how she might feel about him. Knowing Billye’s “wild” side he had also wondered if Candi was really his daughter, but her bent little finger, identical to his, was proof enough for him. He was very glad Candi had found him, and he was happy to welcome her into his life.

For him, the hardest thing about this whole situation was telling his current wife, Jean, that he had been married twice before, not just once. To him, it seemed as though his marriage to Billye had never really happened. The war and the unhappy way his marriage had ended, was something he’d like to forget.

He had met Candi’s mother, Billye, in Amarillo, Texas while he was in basic training during WWII. Like many other young men, he knew he was going to be sent overseas soon. When he and his buddies were given a weekend pass, they congregated in bars, drank a little alcohol, enjoyed lively music and pretty girls, trying to forget their uncertain future for a short while.

When Harry and Billye met in 1943 they were immediately smitten with each other, and within a few short weeks Harry asked her to marry him, and she accepted. They were married, and a few weeks later when Harry’s training was finished, he was sent to the Philippines.

When Harry was sent overseas, he was still afraid of what the future held for him, but he left knowing he had someone to love, and someone who loved him. That was a little much-needed certainty in an uncertain world.

However, three years is a long time, especially for someone as young and restless as Billye! When they were married, she told Harry she was 18, but he would later discover that she was only really 15.

Harry was one of the lucky ones during the war. Despite a few close calls, he survived with no physical harm, and in early January of 1946 he was sent back to the states, along with some unpleasant memories, and a few funny stories. He went straight to California where he thought Billye was living, but, couldn’t find her there. Not knowing what else to do, he returned to his Mom and Dad’s home in Altoona, Pennsylvania. Somehow, shortly after that, Billye found him and joined him there, but it wasn’t a happy reunion for long.

Harry and Billye were living in Pennsylvania at the Hugar homestead until they decided what they would do next; but family lore says Minnie Belle, Harry’s mother, never really welcomed any of the wives of her four beloved sons, into the family.

Minnie made life uncomfortable for Billye, and Billye, who had lived most of her life in the warm climates of Texas and California, had never experienced a harsh winter in the snow-covered mountains of Pennsylvania. Unfortunately, the inside of the Hugar house must have seemed as frigid as the outdoors truly was.

Billye, already a restless spirit, only lasted a couple of weeks in this uncomfortable situation. One day she looked at Harry and said, “I can’t live here anymore Harry. I hate the cold, your Mom doesn’t like me, and you aren’t the same man I married. I’m moving back to California. Do you want to come?”

Harry looked back at her and said, “You aren’t the same woman I married, and I’m sorry you don’t like it here, but I’m staying.”

Billye packed her things in a huff and was gone the next day.

Ten months later Billye called Harry and said, “I’ve had a daughter, I’ve named her Candis, and I’m pretty sure she belongs to you. Can we please try again to make this work?”

Harry sent Billye a train ticket and traveling money, but he never heard from her again. He called a couple of her family members looking for her, but no one seemed to know anything about where Billye and the baby might be.

After the calls he wondered what had happened to Billye, but he was already involved with another woman, Maxine, who would give him a son in August of 1947. They would marry and move to Indianapolis where he would find a steady job at Eli Lilly, and where they would have two more children during their thirteen-year marriage.

So, as it usually does, life moved on…Billye never reached out to Harry again, and Harry never reached out to Billye, but he always wondered about the little girl named Candi.

In 1996, Dad sat down with me and my two brothers in Nashville, IN and told us about his daughter, our sister, Candi. He answered our questions as best he could, and we accepted her into our family, into our hearts, and into our lives.
She came to Indianapolis and met all of us that Spring, and in November of that year Dad celebrated his 75th birthday. When family and friends came from all over the country, he introduced them to his daughter Candi, and they welcomed her!

Before he died in April of 2004, he took Candi and me, his two daughters, on a couple of memorable road trips. He paid for gas and lodging and we paid for meals. We visited all our relatives in Pennsylvania and Maryland, and the following year we saw the bluebonnets bloom as we drove through the Hill Country of Texas, visiting Austin and San Antonio along the way. I think he was always looking for ways to make up for lost time!

For me, Candi coming into our lives was a dream come true. I had always wanted a big sister, and I had always wanted to meet the little girl my Mom had told me about so many years ago.

As a sister and a friend, Candi has surpassed my dreams. We took to each other like…well…like long lost sisters! Her slow Oklahoma drawl, and sharp, funny wit are both to be admired and envied. She doesn’t mince words, or suffer fools, but she has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever encountered…just like our Dad!

For the last 25 years she has been there for me through thick and thin, sometimes at the drop of a hat. If I need her, she’s there! I will never be able to repay all she’s done for me, but I hope she knows how very much she means to me.

On our way to Sedona every year we pick her up in OKC, and she comes along with us for a week or two. We enjoy each other’s company, hiking, playing games, talking, laughing, crying, and loving each other. I treasure those times. She’s lots of fun, and the best sister and best friend…..ever!

In her heart Candi always knew her Dad was out there and was thrilled to finally meet him and get to know him. After many years of wondering where Candi was and how she was doing, Harry was overjoyed that she had found him. The wound they had each carried in their heart for so many years began to mend the first time they met and looked into each other’s eyes.

As for me, every time I look up at the moon these days, I give a little prayer of thanks for finally getting to know and love the sister I always knew was out there.

I’ve always thought of my life as one big marvelous, sometimes mysterious tapestry, lives and hearts all woven together by seen and unseen threads; and when Candi’s long lost, unseen thread of love suddenly became visible, a whole new image emerged, richer and more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
She’s a treasure and I’m over the moon happy that she found us!