(43-359) My Story - Part 2

Let me start off by saying that I truly appreciate the heartfelt comments that I've been receiving in response to yesterday's post "My Story - Part 1".  Perhaps most bloggers wouldn't start chapter two of a story that way, but then again; I'm not most bloggers. 

If you read part 1 of my story, then I probably don't need to warn you that this is not a happy tale.  In fact, today's recollection is much more difficult for me to tell -  but I'm going to do it no matter how uncomfortable it is; because I want to leave a written record of what my life was like and how I got to be who I am now...

I did not speak to my mother at my father's funeral.  I didn't know what to say, and at the time I still believed all of the horrible lies that my father had told me about her.  My father's girlfriend made arrangements for my boyfriend and I to spend a week with a friend of mine who lived in Maryland; and upon my return she told me that I had to meet with my mom because I was going to have to go back to live with her.  There were a lot of hurt feelings on both ends I know, but my mother welcomed me back with open arms; and slowly but surely I reciprocated.

We had my Sweet 16 as planned, and a few days later I was admitted to the hospital for Arthroscopic knee surgery; which also had been scheduled before my father had passed away.  School was set to start a few weeks after that, and I didn't want to go to the high school that was by my mom's house since I had been teased terribly throughout Jr, high.  Because my mom understood how important it was to me to remain at Tappan Zee,  she made arrangements with my Principal so that I could use a friend's address and continue going to school there.  As a result of my knee surgery, I had an enormous cast on my left leg, from my ankle to my thigh and  since TZ was a good twenty minutes from my house, my mom went out of her way to drive me to school every morning and she paid someone to drive me home.

I got on with my life, adjusting to not having a father and getting reacquainted with my mother.  Then one day I was called to the Principal's office.  I was informed that I had enough credits to graduate that spring; but since I was only sixteen and had just gone through a truly, traumatic experience, I didn't feel ready to leave my new home.  I opted to stay with my mom, who had been in remission from her Cancer and took classes for college credit during my senior year.  My house became the party house, and all of my friends loved spending time with my mom. She was different.  She was honest with us, and she was fun, and funny and I had far too little time with her.

After being weight listed for my school of choice, my mom and I took a last minute trip to visit two of the Long Island University campuses.  Ultimately she and I agreed that Southampton was the right place for me; but imagine my surprise when on the first day of school, every other person I met was a marine biology major and I was there for Pre-law.  I thought there must have been some mistake.  I mean science was definitely not my forte and pardon the pun, but I felt like a real fish outta water.  I came to be assured that there were other majors at LIU-Southampton; it was just that most people did go there for Marine bio.  Most people, like my suite mate Michele Q.

During our getting to know you exercises Michele Q and I discovered that we had the same birthday.  And at the time, other than our birthdays and our residence, I thought that was all that we had in common.  It wasn't that I didn't like Michele Q; in retrospect, maybe I was just jealous.  She was vivacious, and confident and she walked around singing (beautifully) at the top of her lungs, and maybe just maybe I felt a little threatened by her. 

My mom came out for parents weekend, and she looked great.  I suppose that's why it was such a surprise that she ended up back in the hospital by Halloween.  Her cancer had come back, and I needed to get home to see her.  I was scared and I didn't want to go alone and when I asked if any of my suite mates would go home with me, Michele Q was the only one to say she would.  Michele enlisted our other suite mate Monique to come with us and they managed to turn a very frightening experience into a life changing event.  Michele came home with me every weekend to go see my mom in the hospital.  She had become my best friend; my sister. 

We almost lost my mom at Christmas time, but she managed to hold on.  I returned to school after the New year, but a week into my second semester, my Uncle called to say that my mom was being released from the hospital as there was nothing more that they could do for her, and I needed to withdraw from school, come home and take care of her.

When I got back to my mom's house, I found her in a hospital bed in our living room.  My grandparents had said that they would stay to help and there would be home health aides coming daily as well.  I enrolled at Rockland Community College, and I got a job at a bakery because I couldn't stand to be at home watching my mother deteriorate.  I would get up in the middle of the night when she called me for help, but I did so begrudgingly and that is a cross that I will always have to bare.  I won't make excuses for myself, but I do realize that I was 18 and for the second time in three years I was going to lose a parent.  I was watching my mother be slowly tortured and it was killing me; so no, I wasn't in good spirits when I tried to assist her and I will forever regret that.

While the Cancer took over my mom's body and she had no idea who I was; I had reapplied to the American University School of Justice in Washington D.C and got in.  But knowing that it wouldn't be long before we were going to lose my mom, I decided that I should stay closer to home for my brother's sake and I made plans to return to LIU in the fall.    Feeling like I was going to need to focus on more than just academics, I had applied to become a Freshman Student Assistant and after an extensive interview process I was selected for a position.  FSA training was scheduled for a week before school started, but knowing that my mom's end was near, I couldn't bring myself to leave.  I called Michelle Q, who had just arrived home after spending the  summer in Suriname.  And as soon as I told her how dire things had become with my mom, she literally dropped off her suitcases and got on a bus to come up to see me.

In the only moment of lucidity that my mom had experienced in weeks, she told Michele that she needed to pack me up and take me back to school.  I didn't want to go because I knew that I would never see my mom again, but Michele insisted as it was my mother's dying wish. 

I don't remember saying goodbye to my mother, as the person that I left in that hospital bed was a mere skeleton and not the exquisite, exuberant mom that I had grown to know and love.  I think that I must have cried almost all the way to school, but Michele reassured me that she would be there for me; and she was.

A few days after classes had started, I got the call that I knew was inevitable.  On September 11, 1986 my mom had lost her long, battle with Cancer and at the age of 19, I was parentless.  Michele and some other school friends took me home for the funeral and I attempted once again, to get on with my life.

My Uncle had moved in with my brother, as he was 17 and still needed to finish high school.  I tired to go home for Christmas, but I felt so uncomfortable there, that I never went back.  My Provost knew about my situation and as I wasn't eligible for work study, he created jobs for me so that I could live on campus during winter and summer breaks.

I worked as an FSA, I was Student Government Secretary for a year and a half, and President my senior year.  I changed my major to Sociology because I decided that I didn't want to be a lawyer and I didn't want to lose all of the college credits that I came in with from high school and I decided not to attend my graduation because even though Michele  and my dad's old girlfriend would have been there for me; I thought that it would just hurt too much.

After I lost my father, I thought to myself  that losing someone so unexpectedly must be so much more awful than knowing that someone was going to pass away.  But after watching my mom suffer the way she did, I can honestly say that in my opinion,  knowing is by far worse.   

I know that this story is an unusual one, and I readily admit that these experiences have left me with profound scars.  But each day I try to be the best person that I can be and I endeavor to be a person that my mom would be proud of.  I don't hold a grudge against Richie Howell, I just don't have any fond memories or good thoughts about him. Yet despite him and the course that he set in motion for my life,  I am happy.  I know that although I lost a lot at an early age, I also have so much more than most people, in the way of those who love and care for me.  
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-171) Do Over...

If anyone would have told me that what started out as  a fun and innocent evening would turn into one of the most challenging nights of my life; I wouldn't have believed them.

Tonight our school held an event at Great Skate; and because Nicky is on student council, he needed to attend.  As none of my kids had ever skated before, nor showed  any interest in skating; I told them that they could use their admission price to buy tokens rather than rent skates; because that's what my friend Jen; (who's one of the student council advisors,) had told me. 

As soon as we entered the building, each of my kids saw friends from school.  They went to go play games; and I sat with Jen.  Being at the roller rink brought back a lot of memories for me; as back in the day, I was a big (say it with me) "HUGE," fan of disco roller skating.  All of a sudden the lights were turned down, and there were disco lights galore; and a remix of "ring my bell" blaring over the sound system.  At one point they played Debbie Deb's "When I hear music," and I was transported back to Studio 59 for a midnight roller skating session.

It didn't take very long for my kids to use up most of their tokens; so I anticipated an early exit.  But then all of a sudden, Lyndzi looked like she was about to cry; and I've told you many times before; Lyndzi isn't really a crier.  I asked Lyndzi what was wrong, and she said "nothing;" but I know her better than that; and the expression on her face, told me that there was definitely something bothering her.  After several minutes of prodding; Lyndzi said "roller skating looks fun."  I said "it is." And then she said that she wanted to try skating.  I asked if she'd be willing to spend her own money to do so, since I'd already paid for them to get in; and after thinking about it for a minute or two; she said that she would pay; and Nicky and Kelsie agreed as well.

I'm not quite sure how I went from no one wanting to skate, to everyone wanting to skate; but that's exactly what happened.  All three kids took out their money and went to get skates, but they came back cash in hand, because the person at the skate rental told them that they didn't have to pay for skates since they paid to get in.  I told them that they did have to pay, because they had gotten tokens rather than skates, for their entrants fee; and I went to the office and paid the additional $5 per child.

Nicky and Lyndzi got their skates on.  Kelsie had to wait for Lyndzi to finish so that she could borrow her socks; as she hadn't worn any.  Nicky looked a little shaky, and I accompanied him across the carpet until he got on the rink; and he actually made it around the skating floor on the first attempt.  I then tried to help Lyndzi; but she proved to be a lot more challenging.  Lyndzi could barely stand up on the skates, and I found that I had to hold onto her so tightly to keep her from falling, that I was afraid that I was going to break her arm.  Lyndzi tried to remain upright, but was having a very tough time. 

I was watching Lyndzi like a hawk, and I noticed a dad that was in shoes, not skates; and he was assisting his son, out on the rink; so I decided to do the same.  This may not have been my brightest idea, because I was wearing flip flops as usual; and my toes were not prepared or protected for what happened next.

I tried several different approaches to helping Lyndzi, and after a few minutes; the DJ announced that parents without skates, who were trying to help kids, had to go in the center of the rink.  Lyndzi and I made it there successfully, and although Lyndzi fell numerous times; and smashed my toes more times than I could count; I thought that she had made some progress. We got off of the rink as the DJ turned the lights down lower, and advised that for this song you needed to have something that was glow in the dark, in order to participate.  This gave us a reprieve.  Lyndzi decided to take a break and lend Kelsie her socks.  Kelsie had been waiting very patiently; and as I tried to help her skate across the carpet; I was hopeful that she would be the one that skating would be easier for; but alas I was wrong.

I helped Kelsie from the carpet to the rink, but cutting across the floor to get to the center, was almost impossible.  I managed to get Kelsie to the middle of the rink with the skate guards assistance; but once we arrived there, Kelsie was frustrated.  I tired not to make a big deal about getting kicked, and rolled over; but I failed miserably; because after the umteenth time; I blew.  I didn't yell at Kelsie, but I definitely lost my patience.  I was almost in tears because my legs and feet were hurting so badly; but Kelsie WAS in tears; and that just made me feel worse.  Kelsie felt responsible for hurting me and she desperately wanted to get off of the skating floor; but the crowd was bigger and moving faster, and it was even more difficult than getting on.  As Kelsie and I tried our best to get across the floor; I remember thinking to myself, "I hate this; I absolutely hate this."  By the time we got off the skating floor; Kelsie was in full blown hysterics; and Lyndzi came running over and began to wail as well. Kelsie was sobbing and implored me to let her sit down right then and there so that she could get the skates off; but I told her that I would get her back to our table.   I felt awful!  It seemed to me, that I had failed my children in the worst kind of way.  They deserved so much better than me tonight; and this thought hurt me more than any injury that I'd endured.

I begged the girls to stop crying and I did my best to assure them that they had done NOTHING wrong.  I told them that I was so proud of them for attempting to skate, and for spending their own money to do so.  I apologized for losing my patience, and for getting frustrated; and they excused it all. But I was still miserable.  To know that I had been the cause of my children's pain; I felt ashamed.  I wished that I could have handled the situation better; but I was exasperated. I was afraid that the kids were going to  fall and get hurt.  I was fearful that I was going to break their arms, with as tight as I had to hold onto them to keep them from falling; and I was in pain from my injuries.

It is true that I am my worst critic; and that I don't cut myself any slack; however, I am the first one to tell you when one of my kids does something remarkable; and I''ve been known to give myself a pat on the back as well; so being the Queen of FAIRNESS, I also have to tell you, when I have completely missed the mark.

As soon as we left the rink; I held my kids close and apologized profusely. They then started to cry and apologized as well.  I begged them to believe that they had nothing to apologize for; and they tried to convince me of the same.  Oh if ever it was possible to have a Do Over; tonight would be the night that I'd want to re-do.  I don't know exactly what I would do differently; but whatever it is, it would be done in away that my children didn't feel guilty for wanting to try. 

Oh how I wish tonight never happened.  If only life were like a Disney movie, and I had a fairy Godmother who could wave a magic wand and make tonight go away.  It's not that I have to be perfect; I just have to be better.  Better than what I was; because they so deserve it. 

I told the kids that I was so happy that they had given roller skating a try; and that if they had any interest in trying again; they could.  I can only pray that this evening didn't make them afraid to try new things because without trying, you only insure that you fail. 

Oh this one's gonna haunt me for a while; but hopefully a good dose of snuggling will make it somewhat better for everyone.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING