One day I woke up and everything had changed. I didn't realize at the time, I was too young, how change would be a major theme of my life.
I was blessed with a few years of normalcy, if you could call it that. I know that no one I grew up with had an inkling of what had gone through, was going through, including myself. We are blessedly born with these things called defense mechanisms which keep us from overload and mine worked very well. I also didn't know at the time, how much of a cultural shift the country was going through, or how important that would be some 50 years after my birth.
50 years is a fairly good stretch of time. The children who are born during a cultural shift live through those changes and then get very accustomed to them. It is like when you talk to someone who were alive before there were say, cars. I know that is a stretch of imagination these days, some people can relate better. I suppose a better - more modern equation would be the difference between a cell phone and a rotary phone in the house, I guess that is the stumper for these latest generations.
I stray, sorry, it has been a long time since my fingers had anything to say. I guess it would be emotion driven to be sure, and a Saturday, which is a long way from Monday where I get to pay someone to listen to my deepest darkest, but Monday is forever away and my fingers again have something to say.
That first time that I realized everything had changed was when I was very young, I don't know if I was in school yet and I would have to say that I wasn't because I was standing in the kitchen with my little brother and it was daytime. We were giggling by the closed door when our father walked in. We were not giggling very long - I think next we were getting out of the way of all hell breaking loose. When I woke up I didn't have a family any more. The bottom had fallen out of the bucket. Solid ground no longer under our feet.
First my Dad ran out the door after trying to put the fridge out the second floor window and then my Mom was seen mostly Friday afternoons to drive us to her parents for the weekend so she could work, and Sunday when we went home, unless it was summer or school vacations when we stayed until it was time to go home. That became the new normal. The only variance was going over to my Dad's parents house in the hopes of seeing who was to me, one of the most important people in my life prior to this time, along with my Mom and brother difference was I lived with them and I no longer lived with or had communication with my Dad which also became the new normal.
I couldn't tell you if I was in school or not. I can tell you now, as an adult, I was in shock and had PTSD which wasn't a thing then. So I do remember my mother bringing me to school the first day. We walked the route I would walk everyday for the next four years. I was in a purple skirt and top. I can see it now. It was a nice purple, so I can safely assume that although I love all colours, purple was probably my first love.
At this point, I think it would be fair at the very least to tag this time as the late 60's up to 71 as a reference point. So add in the Vietnam War, my Dad was a soldier and his bride was barely 16 to his 21 years old. He having been drafted from a small town in New England, she from the same small town. That is their story and not mine though. They didn't talk about their lives and my Dad only talked to me about the war and how it changed him and how someday we would be together to sum it up in a nutshell.
He got pulled from the jungle of Vietnam to come home for a double funeral. after 28 days and was able to not have to go back. By this point you should know, but I won't assume, that no one died, but his very young bride and very premature daughter needed him more than Vietnam did.
According to the fairy tale, and I say this as I only have one source on this one - my parents fell in love and planned to have me and named me before I was even born. I saved my Dad's life by being born. My mom got them to let me come home from the hospital after three months because she couldn't be apart from me any more - incubator and all. My Mom taught me to read before I was five and she got me into kindergarten early because I could read, I can say right now that I was not socially ready for this move and I think it is part of why I have difficulty fitting in. I was foisted upon older kids and no one likes a little kid, especially one who is smarter than you.
My only saving grace at that time was the new kid in my class, who also happened to be my next door neighbor. He lived with his mother who was never around either and went to his grandparents as well so we had much in common, aside from the fact that I was a girl and he was a boy and oh yeah, I was white and he was black. Not that that made a difference to either of us. He taught me how to run fast right there on Wahconah Street across from Adrian's Diner.
One minute I am all alone, my parents gone and wham, here comes that change. My best friend and I spent many a day living within the confines of our boundaries. There were some pretty slick places to check out, which we did almost daily until I was eight years old.
We used to go into Pittsfield General Hospital and check for change in the cafeteria which was just a room full of vending machines. My best friend also taught me the importance of checking the change slot in pay phones. (payphones you say, oh yeah, we don't have payphones anymore, but you used to put in a dime and dial up someone. If you didn't have a dime and put in a quarter then change would end up in the little change receptacle.) I jest, only slightly. They were real, once upon a time.
We also used to go in and check out the plants at Viales greenhouse. I am amazed they never said anything to us. We also went between the greenhouses. I am not really sure how we managed that one, but it was fun and we felt like we were living on the edge.
Needless to say, we got teased for being friends. I know from him what is is like to have someone have your back. I do not think I would have made it through those years without him! Every bit of teasing was worth it to have such a wonderful friend to take me through some of the darkest days of that time.
I think that although these changes occurred they made me stronger, although I wouldn't find that out for a while. They also made me angry, that I wouldn't find out for much, much later. They most importantly made me one unique individual which is for another day. My fingers grow weary, my neck grows weak and my back is aching. My heart is aching but less than it was when I began so it is all good.
I was blessed with a few years of normalcy, if you could call it that. I know that no one I grew up with had an inkling of what had gone through, was going through, including myself. We are blessedly born with these things called defense mechanisms which keep us from overload and mine worked very well. I also didn't know at the time, how much of a cultural shift the country was going through, or how important that would be some 50 years after my birth.
50 years is a fairly good stretch of time. The children who are born during a cultural shift live through those changes and then get very accustomed to them. It is like when you talk to someone who were alive before there were say, cars. I know that is a stretch of imagination these days, some people can relate better. I suppose a better - more modern equation would be the difference between a cell phone and a rotary phone in the house, I guess that is the stumper for these latest generations.
I stray, sorry, it has been a long time since my fingers had anything to say. I guess it would be emotion driven to be sure, and a Saturday, which is a long way from Monday where I get to pay someone to listen to my deepest darkest, but Monday is forever away and my fingers again have something to say.
That first time that I realized everything had changed was when I was very young, I don't know if I was in school yet and I would have to say that I wasn't because I was standing in the kitchen with my little brother and it was daytime. We were giggling by the closed door when our father walked in. We were not giggling very long - I think next we were getting out of the way of all hell breaking loose. When I woke up I didn't have a family any more. The bottom had fallen out of the bucket. Solid ground no longer under our feet.
First my Dad ran out the door after trying to put the fridge out the second floor window and then my Mom was seen mostly Friday afternoons to drive us to her parents for the weekend so she could work, and Sunday when we went home, unless it was summer or school vacations when we stayed until it was time to go home. That became the new normal. The only variance was going over to my Dad's parents house in the hopes of seeing who was to me, one of the most important people in my life prior to this time, along with my Mom and brother difference was I lived with them and I no longer lived with or had communication with my Dad which also became the new normal.
I couldn't tell you if I was in school or not. I can tell you now, as an adult, I was in shock and had PTSD which wasn't a thing then. So I do remember my mother bringing me to school the first day. We walked the route I would walk everyday for the next four years. I was in a purple skirt and top. I can see it now. It was a nice purple, so I can safely assume that although I love all colours, purple was probably my first love.
At this point, I think it would be fair at the very least to tag this time as the late 60's up to 71 as a reference point. So add in the Vietnam War, my Dad was a soldier and his bride was barely 16 to his 21 years old. He having been drafted from a small town in New England, she from the same small town. That is their story and not mine though. They didn't talk about their lives and my Dad only talked to me about the war and how it changed him and how someday we would be together to sum it up in a nutshell.
He got pulled from the jungle of Vietnam to come home for a double funeral. after 28 days and was able to not have to go back. By this point you should know, but I won't assume, that no one died, but his very young bride and very premature daughter needed him more than Vietnam did.
According to the fairy tale, and I say this as I only have one source on this one - my parents fell in love and planned to have me and named me before I was even born. I saved my Dad's life by being born. My mom got them to let me come home from the hospital after three months because she couldn't be apart from me any more - incubator and all. My Mom taught me to read before I was five and she got me into kindergarten early because I could read, I can say right now that I was not socially ready for this move and I think it is part of why I have difficulty fitting in. I was foisted upon older kids and no one likes a little kid, especially one who is smarter than you.
My only saving grace at that time was the new kid in my class, who also happened to be my next door neighbor. He lived with his mother who was never around either and went to his grandparents as well so we had much in common, aside from the fact that I was a girl and he was a boy and oh yeah, I was white and he was black. Not that that made a difference to either of us. He taught me how to run fast right there on Wahconah Street across from Adrian's Diner.
One minute I am all alone, my parents gone and wham, here comes that change. My best friend and I spent many a day living within the confines of our boundaries. There were some pretty slick places to check out, which we did almost daily until I was eight years old.
We used to go into Pittsfield General Hospital and check for change in the cafeteria which was just a room full of vending machines. My best friend also taught me the importance of checking the change slot in pay phones. (payphones you say, oh yeah, we don't have payphones anymore, but you used to put in a dime and dial up someone. If you didn't have a dime and put in a quarter then change would end up in the little change receptacle.) I jest, only slightly. They were real, once upon a time.
We also used to go in and check out the plants at Viales greenhouse. I am amazed they never said anything to us. We also went between the greenhouses. I am not really sure how we managed that one, but it was fun and we felt like we were living on the edge.
Needless to say, we got teased for being friends. I know from him what is is like to have someone have your back. I do not think I would have made it through those years without him! Every bit of teasing was worth it to have such a wonderful friend to take me through some of the darkest days of that time.
I think that although these changes occurred they made me stronger, although I wouldn't find that out for a while. They also made me angry, that I wouldn't find out for much, much later. They most importantly made me one unique individual which is for another day. My fingers grow weary, my neck grows weak and my back is aching. My heart is aching but less than it was when I began so it is all good.
I am so happy that you have returned to the written word.
ReplyDeleteMerci beaucoup - love you dear cousin!
Delete