I picked Teale up at Zumba, we spent a little time with her friends there. I couldn’t dawdle too much tough, traffic could be backed up at this time of day. We needed seats at the gig, so Teale could enjoy seeing her Dad play.
Mark plays sax in four bands in the Rochester, NY area. If you have ever had the pleasure of seeing him play, you know why Teale and I enjoy going. Mark loves playing saxophone! He exudes joy on stage, and it is infectious. Mark is humble and comes from very talented musicians. His Mother and Father met on a gig, both sides deeply entrenched in music. The talent runs deep, each of his siblings and their children, all inherited the strong musical abilities and the support, it takes to pursue music. The only one without this God gifted musical ability, is our Teale, I believe it is deep inside her, but to be able to learn in a traditional way, is not. Her brain injury at birth is extensive, the fact that she is severely developmentally delayed, along with her physical limitations, well, it’s another tough loss, but she is great cheerleader and audience member for her ham filled family! Plus, occasionally, she will even play tambourine.
When Teale was about the age of 16, I started taking her to Mark’s music gigs, instead of getting staff to be with her at home. It was a turning point in our lives. She was mostly, mentally stable, enough so, that I felt safe to be at Mark’s gigs with her. My fears in the past, had been, that if she raged at a gig, not only would that be awful in every way. It would also, be unfair to Mark, the audience who came to hear live music and the band members, he was playing with.
You see, we just don’t know what will “set Teale off.” A stranger looking at her funny, someone accidentally bumping into her? Her mental stability, up to about this age, was very unpredictable. With the addition of an antipsychotic medication, she was more stable. We could predict her better, we felt more at ease and safe. These were gigantic changes in Mark and myself. Feelings of safety, those have come and gone over the years, with Teale’s mental illness, but, at about 16 years of age, she was in a good place.
So, I started taking Teale as my date, to Mark’s bands. There would be many, very successful gigs. We would laugh with each other and the friends who, often joined us to see Mark play. The regulars or fans, have you may, would recognize Teale and visa, versa. Teale became a regular, at many repeat venues, seeing her Dad play all over the Rochester area.
Teale would know who we might see at a gig and her joy when recognizing a familiar face, brought smiles to many. Teale has this completely contagious laughter and even as her Dad, blows his saxophone on stage, her laughter can fill a room.
So after I pick up Teale, we drive, towards the gig, on that fateful, Valentine’s evening, I feel confident everything will go well. We arrive later than I have hoped. Parking is difficult, so, I go to the back, where the musicians park and go in. I would sneak in the back and hope I could find seats.
The usual would happen when Teale and I walked in. She would first, look for her Dad! He would notice us and give us a roaring welcome. Once she got her bearings on which band it was, and making sure her Dad was there. Then, she would observe who else had come, and lastly, ask me, if I know any more friends joining us?
That evening, after being greeted by her Mark and others friends, I found us seats, quickly, as the room was filling up. Teale was thrilled, a few friends were there, I would get her a soda and pizza from the bar. A treat, she doesn’t get often. We settled into our seats, pretty much, right in front of Mark. The dancing space, between us. I had warned Teale that she would need to come home with me. That there had been a lot of late nights and we would go home early. I explained that her Dad had to stay later, so she couldn’t drive home with him.
Teale was great, engaged, laughing, enjoying her Dad’s antics on stage. The band had the audience captivated. There were plenty of dancers, mostly swing dancers, which are so much for to watch. I am a terrible dancer, so I enjoy seeing people, who are not!
Towards the end of the set, Teale starts to show some agitation, it makes me uncomfortable. When you have lived through as many rages as we have, you learn to see the signs in advance, if there are any. I’m not sure if she knew our evening out was coming to an end? Or if I missed something else that had happened? I was hoping I could make it to the band’s break. Maybe if Teale got a little time in with Mark before we headed home, she be fine to leave. The last song before the break was raucous. Some of the band came out into the audience and marched through the crowd. Mark was one of them, blowing his sax as he wound through all the people. Teale has loved this part, so, I’m hopeful it will change the sour mood, I was detecting.
Mark stopped at Teale and sat on her lap, joking with her is a big part of our relationship. She has a great sense of humor. We try to make her life full of small moments of joy and laughter. We couldn’t give her the life she should’ve had, but, we could give her other gifts.
Whatever was going on in her head that night, which we will never know, gave me a very uneasy feeling. I could see her mood go from questionable, to bad. A room of people and a bunch of them will want to talk to Mark. I start suggesting we just leave, maybe I can sneak her out the back door before it gets bad? Mark comes immediately over after the song ends, and he puts his sax down. That’s when she starts screaming. Oh my goodness, I think, we are in deep trouble.
The many things that go through my head, in moments such as this. The blame I take, the could haves, should haves, rolling over and over in my mind. If only I hadn’t… Seriously, so stupid of me, she’s overtired, we should have stayed home.
Mark and I remain calm, we are a good team, but Teale is amping up. We’ve seen her go from 0-10 and, we’ve seen her, occasionally, calm herself, before it goes into a full, fledged, rage.
Mark was talking her down. I was praying inside and hoping, I could just get out of there. Nothing was working well, his break almost over. She was not great, but, not horrible, he was getting pressure from the band to start the next set. I don’t think they knew what was going on.
So, even though I had my coat on, I sat back down. Honestly, I have a million thoughts of what we tried, but even reliving a tiny piece of the story, is difficult.
Writing releases, the biggest reason I write, is for me. To release a story, helps me to move forward. February was two months ago, and maybe, I’ve let go of much. But there are parts of that night, I still struggle with.
I saw a glimmer of the memory, in Mark’s eyes, last Friday. He was playing with this same band, they were winding through the audience, he stopped and blew his horn near myself, Teale and Gwenn. I knew what was going through my head. I thought, I knew his thoughts, too. He wouldn’t dare sit on her! I’m sure we both went back to that dreadful night, at least for a moment, in time. Those connections are strong and only “we truly get it.”
Mark thought I should stay, until he was done with the gig, and could help me. I was in fight or flight mode and wanted to flee. I was embarrassed, I was worn, I wanted to be at home, where I felt more safe and less judged. A rage at home is more predictable. A rage when we are out, there are way too many variables. Mark apologies to me, saying he has to get back on stage. I know this, I also know, I’m scared, and don’t want to be left vulnerable, and alone.
No sooner is he up on stage, almost ready to go, when I take a sharp, left fist, to my right eye. My glasses, both protecting me, and jabbing into my face, cutting it. I’m trying to process what has just happened to me. When the second punch lands, just as hard in the same place.
Mark has seen from the stage and jumps down. In this moment, I feel like I’m in a fishbowl. Who saw that, terrible interaction? If you were not aware of the situation up to this point, now, you surely must be? After all, Mark leapt, to my rescue.
This is the part of the story you may not understand. I am hurt, physically and emotionally, but stoic. If you hadn’t seen those blows to my face, you probably wondered why Mark frantically jumped off stage. A Dad’s wrath can be more effective, especially for Teale, who thinks her Dad, walks on water. This could go either way, she could “pull it together or completely lose control!” Whatever happens, I know, we are at the mercy of mental illness! Teale has the upper hand, she is in control, and has absolutely, no control, but no fault of her own! Anyone who thinks otherwise, has no idea…
I’ll spare you all the details, the short story is, Mark told Teale not to hit me. I sat there feeling, hurt, helpless, judged and mortified. Mark had to finish the gig, so he went back on stage. The dance floor quickly filled, a strange mix of joy, right between us, and Mark.
All I could feel, was my own, intense fear. I had nowhere I could go. I was a sitting duck, not sure if I would be struck again. The final blow a doozy! Same as the first two, but with more power. This time I immediately tasted blood in my mouth. I was pretty sure it was dripping down my throat, inside my face, from my nose. Mark missed seeing this one, but people around me saw it.
I knew they couldn’t understand my response, which is literally, no response. Not everybody knows Teale’s story. They don’t know the brain damage, that she suffered at birth. They don’t know how hard we have fought for her. They don’t know that this behavior is not often or her fault. She does the best she can, and so do we.
I could feel the eyes on me. I could see some of them. I was quietly asked if I was OK, by a couple people. I felt tears well up in my eyes. I knew the tears were not because of the physical pain, which was sharp, no doubt, the tears were because I wondered how this would change Teale’s relationships with people who witnessed it..
The gig comes to an end. Hopefully Teale will leave with us easily, once she realizes, she won’t be missing anything. Mark gets off stage, sax packed up and ready to go. He brushes past people wanting to talk. We sneak out without incident.
My eyes would sustain bruising, I had a cut on my eyebrow, that has left a scar, my face and my head hurt for days. All of the physical pain, was nothing, compared to the mental anguish, I felt.
After a good nights sleep, I would have many conversations with Teale about what happened. I would try to teach through natural consequences. She would not be allowed to go to at least a few future gigs, but I would be sure, she knew, that I went to the gigs. I would need to reinforce why she wasn’t able to come with me. Teale learns quite slowly. It couldn’t be a lot of gigs, I needed to give her a chance to prove herself fairly quickly.
There are many thoughts that go into these decisions and we get a lot wrong. I look back and know that I should not have taken her that night. I also think we try to learn from Teale and the experiences we live, both good and bad. We know she may rage at another gig. It’s not a done deal, when helping Teale to learn proper behavior, but, damn, she has come a long way!
