In early August, a little boy was born. He was named after his father. He was perfect and gorgeous. And just after he was born, my thirst came back. I could drink beer again. I could smoke again. I thought these were wonderful things.
I don't remember exactly the timing anymore, but my brother called and asked if my husband would like to come and work for him in a small town in New Mexico where he had started a business. We both thought this sounded like a great adventure. We were young and had no idea how permanent some of these young "adventurous" decisions can become. His parents were heartbroken when we told them we were moving. I know that we moved when our son was only 2 weeks old.
We rented a little house on the side of a mountain. My clothesline was weaved through pinon trees and at night, I would listen to the wind howling down the canyon. It was a long way from Chicago. I thought it was so romantic! The entire town was like going back in time. We were both so charmed by it. We were also charmed by the skiing nearby. Skiing at Taos in the 70s was something of heaven.
Within a month or so after arriving in this town, my husband was offered a much better job by a man from a german company who came through town to see my brother. Of course, he took the job. And soon he was traveling all the time. He was gone. All. The. Time.
For a while, I went with him. I spent a month or so at the end of 1976 at the Holiday Inn in Fairmont, West Virginia. Spending a month or so at a Holiday Inn with an infant while your husband works 10 and 12 hour days, 6 or 7 days a week is no fun.
I came back to New Mexico. I didn't know anyone. My sister-in-law didn't much like me (she was the first name on my first 4th step, and first 9th step lists). There was nowhere to work in a town like this. I was a bit depressed. I missed my husband terribly.
I stayed at home and drank. What else was there to do?