a punch right in the mouth. My top lip swelled up and hung down over my bottom lip. I was shocked and crying. He became apologetic and begging for forgiveness and promised to never do that again. We could not go to his mother’s for dinner. It went downhill from there. He was very mean and sarcastic to me most of the time. I did not realize it then, but Frank was an alcoholic and always had a bottle of beer in his hand...always at Marnattas Cafe drinking. He delighted in seeing me cry and that I did almost every single day. He was never cheap or should I say frugal. No, cheap, where I was concerned. I wanted to be a mother and after 7 months I went to the doctor to find out if there was a problem. Finally, I became pregnant and I felt like I has holy. I was very sick the first 3 months to the point my throat was raw. I did gain a lot of weight and one night we had an argument. He had been drinking at Magnattas Cafe, he knocked me down to the floor. I was 8 months pregnant. He was kicking me and I was trying to protect my stomach with my hand and arms and said, “Frank Stop, you are going to hurt the baby!” He said, “I hope I kill it.! I have never forgotten those words. I had a lot of girlfriends, some of whom would come over in the afternoon and I would cut and perm their hair. One day, they saw Frank drive in the back driveway and they said, “Oh my God, here he comes Frank, we need to go!” and they grabbed their belongings and ran out the front entrance. They were afraid of him. He was not nice to them and he was terrible to my mother all of the time, eventhough she was so sweet to him. We had friends whom with we would make plans for Saturday night or par ties, and he would be at Magnottas all day, come home, and want to sleep. He would tell me to get ready (because it took me a couple of hours) and wake him a half an hour before we had to leave. Well, guess what?! I would be done up like “Astors Pet Boat” wake him and he would yell and scream to leave him alone. Sometimes he would hit me if I got too close. We didn’t go out.This happened more times that I can remember. One par ty we did get go to, he embarrassed me to the tenth degree. He would deliberately start an argument, maybe just so he could go to Magnottas and drink, that’s how I see it now. One day he came in from work and walked right up to the wood fame over the door and rubbed his finger over the top. I guess he found dust. He blew on his finger and said, “What did you do all day?” The fight was on! I was a very good housekeeper and had cleaned all day plus took care of the baby and had a full dinner on the table plus hair and makeup and was dressed well. I always made sure I looked good when he got home. He went out of his way to hur t me almost daily. I thought he hated me.There was a new bra I purchased because I felt I was not big enough that had blow up cups. He told everyone what I was wearing. I was humiliated! The only time I remember him treating me well was when I was pregnant - I use to ask him why that was...then again, when I think back he was nicest to me when I was pregnant except when he wasn’t!!!! If this is the way he was nice to me when I was pregnant....can you imagine how he treated me when I wasn’t? When my water broke with Linda, I was suffering terrible, so I woke him up and he would not take me to the hospital when I wanted to go ...he would not get up...
yelled at me when I was in such pain....and made me wait hours until he got up. By the time we divorced I felt like I was the most ugly girl in the world and would never have another guy. He tore me down every day. I was miserable. Because our sex life was basically non existent, my mom gave me a book on sex, and after reading it, I asked Frank to read it and he threw it at me across the room. Then there was the time he was drinking at Magnotta’s all day and I asked him to fix the door hinge on a tall white utility cabinet we had in our kitchen. He began to hammer it and he hit his finger with the hammer and yelled out. I ran over and said, let me see your hand to help and with that he began to hit me with his bloody hand and blood began to go all over me, the floor, and the walls. I ran down the stairs to my neighbor (an old Italian woman who taught me to make spaghetti sauce) I thought he went mad. Then there was the time we were over to Sally and my Dad’s for dinner. Dad, Frank, and I were in the living room. Linda and Debbie were playing on the living room floor. Sally called for us to go in for dinner. I told the girls to go to the dining room. Debbie went and Linda did not. Frank was laying on the couch, Dad was in his chair, and I went to the kitchen. When Linda did not come, I walked back to the living room and gave her a small slap on her bottom and said, “Get in there!” Frank jumped up from the couch and punched me in the eye right in front of my dad. My eye swelled up like another nose and my dad called the police and had him arrested. I had to go to court and the judge said that he had never saw such a shiner on a woman and said if it ever happened again, he would “throw the key away.” I forgave Frank because I felt the judge really scared him and he would not dare to hit me ever again. He did not. Getting back to my mother in law... I would invite her for dinner. She would walk into my house, put down her purse, and go directly to the hamper and start washing my clothes. This was driving me nuts because it happened all the time. Frank and I were going to NYC for a week to his Uncle’s condo on Park Avenue. I was pregnant with Debbie. But guess what, we had to take his mother (we could never get away without her). I was finishing packing when she got to our house. The diapers I had washed were not yet folded. She marched right over to them and started to fold and I told her to stop, as I would do it. You guess it, I had had it with her and we had words. Finally I told Frank, “It’s either her or me.” He chose her and they went to NYC. I called my mom crying, so she and her friend Pat drove me to Stamford, CT to my Uncle Jack’s. Frank’s father was a sweethear t of a guy. I loved him and he loved me. He was a terrific ar tist, although that was not his line of work. He was easy going and full of fun and smiles. Debbie inherited his talent. One day we received terrible news. He had been diagnosed as having a brain tumor and we all were devastated. He was operated at the University of Pennsylvania hospital where they cut his whole skull
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