Shortly before my husband's release from prison, his mother also got me on birth control pills. I would forget to take them, then take one in morning and one at night to make up for missing a day. September 9, 1970 I walked, daughter in stroller, oh, maybe eight miles to the drug store. I picked up my birth control prescription and a pack of cigarettes. I believe the check amount was $8.00. The check bounced and I was too embarrassed to ever go back. Hello, no more birth control pills.
Dang, I am supposed to be providing details as to how we ended up homeless or with a motel to call home.
"Get a job." The man who bellowed at me because, gasp, I said "of course I will work...", was now bellowing about getting a job. I did. Part time receptionist at Real Estate agent. First time I was fired from a job. They neglected to tell me the job was temporary until their gal returned from summer vacation. After that I got a part time job as a cashier in a grocery store.
My rent, health care, food was paid for by the government while my husband was in jail. Perhaps we stayed on welfare for a while after his release. A month? Until he got a job? Do not know. I do know that by Sept. 9, 1970, there should have been more money in our checking account than the eight dollars I spent. He would withdraw money, not tell me or write the amount in the checkbook.
Drugs. Prior to being canned from the Real Estate company I told him I wanted a divorce. Too bad I did not know that I could have filed for divorce as soon as he went to jail. Not that I would have considered doing so at that time. Young and dumb. In love? He made one a speech about how he was going to change. I did not ask him to change, to stop going out doing drugs with his friends, stop drinking up the rent money, stop quitting jobs. I asked for a divorce.
If I was not pregnant with our second child, perhaps I would not have given him another chance to be a law-abiding, decent husband. He was a fairly good father. He changed diapers! I never had that issue many woman had getting hubby to take care of the baby.
I vaguely recall we had food stamps, but not medical care or help with rent. I learned to start hiding money I was given, such as holiday gifts. My little bit of pay would be used to pay the bills he was not paying.