Carol was a good patient, and recovered well from her operations. Mild doses of chemotherapy gave her relief from serious symptoms and she made considerable improvement for the first few months. Then, another chest x-ray disclosed that the cancer was beginning to progress. Carol had no respiratory distress, however, so she was allowed to continue with her daily, active routine. She was carefully monitored, and received the best of care from an attentive and loving staff.
Carol Buck died peacefully in her sleep during the afternoon of September 30, 1992. She had begun to slow down considerably during the preceding weeks, but did not show any discomfort or pain. A simple memorial service was conducted by the staff and residents of the Training School, and interment was on the grounds where she had spent so many years of her life. I know she will be remembered fondly.
If I played a role in shaping Carol’s life, I think it is fair to say that she also played a role in shaping my life. I think that I became the person I am at least in part because she was my sister. I am not a person who easily judges people by what they can or cannot do, nor do I judge them by what they think, or how they may perform a task. Each of us has a way of doing what we can, and in what manner we can. I have always felt close to those who did not have the abilities to succeed or perform as so-called “normal” people did, but it was not until now, when asked to write this Afterword, that I realized that each of us, no matter what our talents, has our own voice and can help others in our own way.
Another gift that Carol gave me is a special insight into our mother’s thoughts and actions. Specifically, I drink I understand something about her relationship with her own children, as well as her need to reach out to other children throughout the world. This insight has come only recently, as I have learned more about Carol’s early years and my mother’s anguish over this birth child. As I look back, I wonder how different her life might have been if it were not for this child. Were the compulsive drives to achieve her monumental goals spurred on by her need for perfection — her need to overcome her feelings of inadequacy caused by the birth of Carol — and her need to provide for the care of this daughter?
During Carol’s early years, I do not believe that Pearl’s own life was fulfilling. Deep in her heart, I think she felt that she had other needs to attend to. Her own destiny had been set aside while she pursued a life that was common and normal during the 1920s: marriage, children, family. Carol’s birth changed all this, and eventually changed my mother’s life, as she was driven to find a way to provide for her daughter.
The Child Who Never Grew touches briefly on my mother’s quest to find an avenue to provide for the care her child would require. What resources did she have as a teacher, and as the wife of a missionary? The only thing that she knew might help in this dilemma was her desire and ability to write — and what was she to write of but the people closest to her, whose struggles she felt nearest to? And so began the outpouring of her heart to relate the stories of those she saw struggling for life and the fulfillment of their dreams. Slowly but steadily, these stories came to life: East Wind-West Wind, The Good Earth, The Exile, The Mother, The Fighting Angel, Sons, A House Divided….
What The Child Who Never Grew does not delve into was how successful her writing was and how this success sometimes prevented her from nurturing the very family she had sought to provide for. But the fact is, she was quickly recognized for her writings, and was honored by both the Pulitzer and Nobel Prizes within a few short years. She had exploded upon the conscience of the peoples of the world, and she would not relent in her pursuit to examine the many social issues that gripped her attention. Her life at last had meaning.
With her writing a critical and commercial success, Pearl was not only able to provide for the financial needs of her child and herself, but also for members of her new family. At Vineland, she donated funds for the construction of Carol’s cottage, which housed about sixteen residents. Besides the suite that Carol occupied, the cottage included bedrooms and baths for the other residents, a large dayroom, a large dining room, a good-sized kitchen for meal preparation, and quarters for the housemother. Pearl also established a lifetime living contract for Carol to remain at the school. Naturally, she continued to provide Carol with clothing, toys, phonographs, roller skates, and anything else that my sister wanted or needed. And she assigned the royalties from the first edition of this book to the Training School, probably as a fund-raising gift.
For her second husband and new family — which eventually grew to include six adopted children in addition to myself — Pearl became the main breadwinner. She re-built an old farm house and acquired additional land, and also paid the salaries of numerous household staff. All the while she maintained a busy schedule of writing, social activities in and outside the home, speaking engagements for causes she supported, and many other activities.
Unfortunately, as she was reaching out to so many, there were times that my mother could not be there for her own family. Although she provided for our material needs, she often did not have the time to take care of our emotional needs. She needed to schedule her time carefully so that she had undisturbed hours to write and answer correspondence. And even when she had time to spend with us, I often felt that she lived in another world from ours, and did not really understand simple, everyday family life. She did not seem attuned to the enjoyment my siblings and I took in ordinary pleasures such as sports, and never seemed to recognize our achievements in this area. She placed intellectual pursuits above all else, and since none of us were particularly intellectual, I guess we were disappointments to her in a way.
My mother did her best to balance the different parts of her life, but as we all know, each of our lives can only reach so far. Only when she was close to death did I finally realize that — although she had reached out to all mankind — she had not been able to attend to some of the smaller details that would have made her life more fulfilling. My mother seemed to be at peace with herself when she died, but I know that she left with many dreams unmet. One of the biggest dreams, I am sure, was to make amends to her children, who did not understand the complexities of her life or the role that she felt she could have played in the world.
This magnificent woman — my mother — left a legacy that could not be duplicated, but she also left lives that would need healing. It cannot be denied that my siblings and I — all of us abandoned by our birth mothers and fathers — later felt abandoned by our adopted mother, Pearl. It also cannot be denied that Carol played an unwitting role in our abandonment — if only because she was one of the primary impetuses that spurred my mother to write. My siblings and I are not close, nor did they know Carol, or anything about her life or the bond between Carol and myself. They always remained separate. Not because they did not care; only because my mother did not involve them in Carol’s life. My younger siblings were almost seventeen years Carol’s junior, and so had contact with her only during her brief summer visits to Pennsylvania. This was a world that they were not a part of, and were not ever expected to participate in, unless, of course, I preceded my sister in death.
I therefore write this Afterword not only to update the story of Carol’s life, but also to explain the way my mother lived her life. In so doing, I hope that I might help my siblings and others familiar with my mother’s life to understand what happened in the past. My brothers and sisters were often hurt by my mother’s apparent aloofness, and did not understand how they fit into her life. The truth is, she did not intend to hurt them, but she needed to give meaning to her own life. And one of her primary methods of giving meaning to her life was to support those who were unable to speak for themselves — whether it be the minorities or oppressed peoples of the world, or those who were slow to learn, like my sister. As a public figure, she was able to reach out to all peoples of the world, and show her compassion and concern. She was able to leave a legacy of simple caring for all mankind who would listen and accept her challenge. Would this legacy have been different if she had not given birth to Carol? It is impossible to say for sure, of course, but I think that the answer is “yes.”