Moonlight On Linoleum: A Daughter's Memoir  -     By: Terry Helwig, Sue Kidd
Buy Item $2.99 Retail: $25.00 Save 88% ($22.01) Add To Cart
Add To Wishlist

Moonlight On Linoleum: A Daughter's Memoir

Simon & Schuster / 2011 / Hardcover

$2.99 (CBD Price)
Retail: $25.00
Save 88% ($22.01)
Buy 304 or more for $2.84 each.
Availability: In Stock
CBD Stock No: WW628476

Current Promotions
  • Other Formats (2)
Other Formats (2)
  1. In Stock
    Retail: $25.00
    Add To Cart
  2. In Stock
    Retail: $20.99
    Add To Cart

Product Information

Format: Hardcover
Vendor: Simon & Schuster
Publication Date: 2011
ISBN: 1451628471
ISBN-13: 9781451628470
Availability: In Stock

Publisher's Description

"I invited the child I was once to have her say in these pages. I am the one who came out on the other side of childhood; she is the one who searched for the door."

In the tradition of The Glass Castle comes a debut memoir about a woman’s hopeful life despite the sad results of her mother’s choices. Moonlight on Linoleum is an affecting story of a girl who rose above her circumstances to become an early and faithful caretaker to her five siblings. It is about the power one finds in sisterhood to thrive in a difficult and ever-changing landscape as the girls bond in unconditional love despite constant upheaval and uncertainty. In these pages, Teresa Helwig crafts a moving portrait of a mother she loved completely even as she struggled to understand her.

"Putting myself in Mama's shoes, which were most often white moccasins molded in the shape of her size seven-and-a-half foot, I see an eighteen-year-old girl with two children, one of them still a baby. . . . Her former husband is in Korea, drafted after their divorce; she has a sister who disappears from time to time, leaving yet another child in her care; she has no money, no high-school diploma, and a mother unhappy to have her home."

Teresa and her sisters, who were added regularly throughout the 1950s and '60s, grew up with with their charismatic, troubled, and very young mother, Carola. Because of their stepfather’s roving job as in the oil fields, they moved frequently from town to town in the American West. The girls were often separated and left behind with relatives and never knew what their unstable mother would do next. Missing her mother became a habit for Teresa; one summer Carola dropped off her two daughters at her ex's family farm.

"If there were an idyllic summer of childhood, it was that summer on the Iowa farm. Yet, if I had to choose a time when I felt most forsaken by my mother, it was also that summer. Even back then, I was acutely aware of the paradox. On the outside, by day, I was like the morning glory vine twining around the back fence. Every day opened to a life I loved on the land. I reveled in and relished the absolute freedom and abandon of being turned loose in Eden.
     "But then, each evening, after the sun set and the dinner dishes had been hand-washed and dried, I became like the moonflower vine climbing up the weathered boards on the side of the garage. The moonflower opens its large fragrant blooms at night; they shimmer like moonlight and sweeten the night air.
     "I evolved a ritual at bedtime before crawling into my bed . . . I held Mama's Polaroid picture to my heart.
I love you. Please come get us soon. I want to be with you more than I want to be anywhere else. These were my prayers, my blooms that opened to the night. Then I pursed my lips against the cool glass and kissed her smiling face goodnight."

There were good times too: Carola made fudge for the girls during rainstorms, helped Teresa's cat deliver kittens, and taught her to play "You Are My Sunshine" on a toy piano. But when her husband was out working on the oil fields, Carola, who had married at fourteen, began to fill her time with men she met in the various towns her roving family moved to. She referred to her secret dating life as "going to Timbuktu," leaving Teresa in charge of her siblings. As Carola roamed and eventually developed crippling migraines, Teresa became a replacement mommy before her own childhood was fully in swing. Stress, guilt, and recurring nightmares marked her days and nights.

"In addition to the amphetamines [for weight loss], Mama was now taking barbiturates for her migraines. Her moods began to yo-yo. She became as hard to predict as the weather. When Daddy was out of town and Mama was in one of her fogs, I learned to fend for myself. And, being the oldest, I learned to fend for my sisters, too . . . It was around this time I came to realize a hard truth. Once your sisters begin looking up to you, as if you really could save them from being poisoned, as if you know a way out of a dark cave, there's no going back. You'll draw your last breath, trying to find that door to the Lost City of Enchantment, because you can't bear to let them down."

Yet, even in the face of adversity, Teresa found beauty in the small moments: resting in the boughs of her favorite oak tree, savoring the freedom she found on her grandparents’ farm, and gleefully discovering the joys of dating and dancing. While Carola struggled for an exciting and satisfying life, Teresa faced adolescence and young adulthood, increasingly burdened by Carola's dysfunction. Finally, as the family splintered between colleges, homes, stepfathers, and their mother's disintegrating mental health, Teresa drove Carola to a mental hospital--where at last the mother of five found some peace and order.

Upon leaving the hospital, sadly Carola continued in a downward spiral: more men, a drug addiction, a toddler son's death, and finally her own accidental overdose death in 1974. Though Carola's unhappy life meant Teresa's was marked by hardship and tragedy, Teresa found redemption in writing her mother's story and discovering empathy for the woman continually harmed by her own bad choices. The bonds of sisterhood helped sustain her, and today the girls are still close, still savoring the good in a childhood pocked with pain. Teresa, now a counselor and mother of a daughter, was able to conclude, after visiting her mom's grave and asking her blessing on the book,

I believe joy and sorry rest together, the two sides of love. I have repeatedly uncovered places of joy inside my own heart tucked within the folds of sorrow. 

With enormous skill and sensitivity, Teresa deftly explores the history she shared with Carola and the relentless love of a child for her mother.

Author Bio

Terry Helwig, author of Moonlight on Linoleum: A Daughter’s Memoir, graduated with an MA in counseling psychology.  Before founding The Thread Project: One World, One Cloth in 2001, she specialized in women’s personal growth and spiritual development.  She and her husband Jim currently divide their time between the coasts of southwest Florida and South Carolina.

Editorial Reviews

“The world needs Moonlight on Linoleum because . . . it is what redemption looks like."

Product Reviews

4 Stars Out Of 5
4 out of 5
4 out Of 5
(4 out of 5)
4 out Of 5
(4 out of 5)
Meets Expectations:
1 out Of 5
(1 out of 5)
of customers would recommend this product to a friend.
Displaying items 1-1 of 1
Page 1 of 1
  1. Oak Harbor, WA
    Age: 55-65
    Gender: female
    4 Stars Out Of 5
    good survival story, but no credit to God
    October 28, 2011
    Oak Harbor, WA
    Age: 55-65
    Gender: female
    Quality: 4
    Value: 4
    Meets Expectations: 1
    Terry's mother Carola Jean married at age fourteen (1948) and became a tenant farmer's wife. Terry was born eleven months later into a house without running water. Sister Vicki arrived. At age sixteen, as mother of two under two, Carola was broke and divorced (for the first time). Carola took the children to Colorado and her family. She married Davy. Little sister Patricia was born. Carola sent the two older girls to their biological father "for the summer" but did not return to pick them up - until nearly two years later.

    In that time Carola had divorced and remarried Davy and sent Patricia to live with Davy's parents. They moved to Texas where Davy worked in the oilfields. (Terry would not be allowed to contact her biological father again until she was eighteen.)

    Another sister was born. Carola frequented bars. She and Davy fought. (Terry would wake to find a man climbing out of her mother's bedroom window, Davy being gone for work.)

    Then a move to Colorado. Carola got migraines and was often in a fog. Terry learned to care for her sisters (she was in the fifth grade). They took in a niece, to make six girls under the age of twelve in the house. More boyfriends while Davy was away for work. More moves. Terry continued to care for her younger sisters, sometimes when her mother was hundreds of miles away with a boyfriend. Another move.

    When Terry was fourteen she overheard a friend ask Carola if she wasn't too hard on Terry. That experience released Terry from the burden of trying to please her mother.

    Another move. When Terry began high school she was asked where she was from. "What could I say? I am from everywhere and nowhere."

    Carola divorced Davy and married "Mr. Rodeo." The girls transitioned to life on a farm. Then Carola's short nursing career ended under suspicion (drugs). Soon Carola and Mr. Rodeo were fighting, then one night, gun shots. Carola took her girls to Davy, now living in California. He took them in. After a few months Carola took the two youngest girls back to Texas to divorce Mr. Rodeo. She never came back. Though not asked, Terry would not have gone with her. "Life had become more painful living with Mama than living without her."

    Davy had to work in Nevada but the girls stayed in California, Terry taking care of them. She graduated from high school and began taking some college level courses and working.

    Her Mama called, asking her to move closer to Texas. Terry and a friend did, finding jobs. Her mother attempted suicide at age thirty-three. Terry was visiting and managed to get her to the doctor before she bled to death. Terry was eighteen. Carola was admitted to a mental hospital. Terry became responsible for her two sisters there (one having been sent to their birth father). When Carola was discharged she never came for her children but Terry ultimately insisted they go live with her.

    Carola married twice more before she died in 1974 of an accidental drug overdose.

    Terry ends her memoir with a reunion tour of "the sisters" through Texas towns.

    Terry's writing, at times, is well done. For example, "The small oasis of normalcy and nurture that year and a half in Grand Junction came at suppertime, when my sisters and I gathered around our kitchen picnic table." And, "Mama's fury had become as bitter as the howling winds sweeping through an icy canyon. No matter how hard we tried, we constantly fell short..." The majority of the writing, however, is nondescript, near boring at times. Perhaps that reflects her conflicted view of her mother. "That's how it was with Mama. One moment I admired her more than anyone, and the next I wished she would become someone else."

    Don't expect any "Christian witness" in this book. In an interview at the back of the book Terry is asked how she was so "resilient." She said she always felt connected to something greater than herself but does not identify who or what that was. She adds that taking care of her sisters gave her a great sense of purpose. This is a great story of one woman's survival but none of the credit or glory goes to God.

    I received an egalley of this book from the publisher for the purpose of this review.
Displaying items 1-1 of 1
Page 1 of 1

Ask Christianbook


Ask Christianbook

What would you like to know about this product? Please enter your name, your email and your question regarding the product in the fields below, and we'll answer you in the next 24-48 hours.

If you need immediate assistance regarding this product or any other, please call 1-800-CHRISTIAN to speak directly with a customer service representative.

Find Related Products

Author/Artist Review

Start A New Search