After the divorce, my daughter and I moved from Norridgewock back to the Brewer area. She was in 7th grade at the time and met a boy at the middle school. It wasn’t long before they started “going out” or dating as we adults call it. He was a good kid, I really liked him and ironically, I had gone to school with his parents as well. Small world.
8th grade, still dating, and prom right around the corner, she thinks she’s in love with him; first love, I’m sure she did fall for him. Who wouldn’t, dark haired, blue eyed boy and ever so popular.
High school begins for the freshman class. New friends, driver’s permits and footballs games; the life of a young teen… Varsity cheering, honors chorus and great grades, what more could a mother ask for.
***
Sophomore year, she’d cheered for him while he made touch downs and then the football parties seemed to get out of hand. That one time they showed up at my house drunk, I thought I would kill them all. Instead I put my fist through the wall. It seemed to scare some sense into them…for a little while anyway.
Junior year she was out of control. She didn’t make cheering, she didn’t make it home every night and the partying was getting out of hand. I was at my wits end and thought it would be best for her to move to her stepdads to finish out high school back in Norridgewock. Maybe he could do a better job handling her; maybe getting her away from this crowd would help. She would see her boyfriend, on weekends, supervised. She moved away, I cried for failing, I cried from the lonliness, I cried from the unknown.
***
He was supposed to pick her up on Friday, but ended up getting called to a job. He did construction, so you take the work when you can get it. Payday, and a few beers under his belt, he left the jobsite. He missed the curve and ran the truck into a phone pole then a tree, the final resting place. It took the ambulance crew hours to retrieve him from the wreckage with the Jaws of Life.
I was at my boyfriend’s house when the phone rang; it was one of my daughter’s girlfriends. The voice on the other line was hysterical; there had been an accident.
I desperately tried to calm her down to find out who she meant; my heart was racing and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.
Hours later, I finally got the call; mom, please meet me at the hospital in the ICU and can you come now. I was already there.
***
Countless yet familiar faces in the waiting room; some seated, others pacing in circles while many sobbed, holding one another…I felt helpless.
I went in to sit with her while she talked to him. He couldn’t hear her or feel her as she stroked his face, one side of his skull was crushed, and the doctors said he was brain dead.
***
After they pulled the plug, I brought her home with me. I lay with her night after night, while she sobbed and asked God why he didn’t take her instead. Her heart was shattered; she didn’t think she’d be able to go on without him; she didn’t WANT to go on without him.
Day’s turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years; it was a long, slow and agonizing healing process.
***
She has finally moved on….. his name engraved on her body, she says so she’ll never forget, his picture on her bedstand, just to be sure she doesn’t and her newborn sons middle name, to guarentee she won't.
We still go visit his grave on occasion and try to remember the good times and not the tragedy of a young life taken so soon.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
week 9 linked vignettes
High school begins for the freshman class. New friends, driver’s permits and first loves; the life of a young teen… Varsity cheering, honors chorus and great grades, what more could a mother ask for.
***
She was out of control. I thought it would be best for her to move to her stepdads to finish out high school. Maybe he could do a better job handling her; maybe getting her away from this crowd would help. She moved away, I was alone.
***
I was at my boyfriend’s house when the phone rang; it was one of my daughter’s girlfriends. The voice on the other line was hysterical; there had been an accident. I desperately tried to calm her down to find out who she meant; my heart was racing and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.
Hours later, I finally get the call; mom, please meet me at the hospital in ICU.
***
Countless yet familiar faces in the waiting room; some seated, others pacing in circles while many sobbed, holding one another…I felt helpless.
I went in to sit with her while she talked to him. He couldn’t hear her, one side of his skull was crushed, and the doctors said he was brain dead.
***
We still go visit his grave on occasion and try to remember the good times and not the tragedy of a young life taken so soon.
***
She was out of control. I thought it would be best for her to move to her stepdads to finish out high school. Maybe he could do a better job handling her; maybe getting her away from this crowd would help. She moved away, I was alone.
***
I was at my boyfriend’s house when the phone rang; it was one of my daughter’s girlfriends. The voice on the other line was hysterical; there had been an accident. I desperately tried to calm her down to find out who she meant; my heart was racing and I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.
Hours later, I finally get the call; mom, please meet me at the hospital in ICU.
***
Countless yet familiar faces in the waiting room; some seated, others pacing in circles while many sobbed, holding one another…I felt helpless.
I went in to sit with her while she talked to him. He couldn’t hear her, one side of his skull was crushed, and the doctors said he was brain dead.
***
We still go visit his grave on occasion and try to remember the good times and not the tragedy of a young life taken so soon.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
week 8 Vignette
The weather was perfect; high nineties, low humidity, the Atlantic Ocean to my east and the Gulf of Mexico to my west, what more could I ask for! Glistening, golden bodies scattered over the beaches while middle aged tourists seek out lost treasures with their metal detectors. Countless palm trees pepper the outskirts of my peripheral vision; I squint to observe a daredevil parasailing in the gulf as the reggae band at the nearby tiki bar starts a new set. Drink in hand; time seemed to stand still and during this brief moment of lucidity while aqua blue waters gently lapped the sand at my feet I wondered; how is it they call Maine “vacation land”.
Monday, October 11, 2010
week 7 character
The first time I met her was in kindergarten; they called her DeeDee and I always admired her, she seemed so happy and carefree. We ended up taking the same class’s together right through 8th grade and became good friends I think around 4th grade. As far as I was concerned she was my best friend, but she was actually more than that; she was kind of my protector, she always stood up for me all the time especially when the other kids teased me, which was often. I was from a very poor family; DeeDee’s family on the other hand was well off financially. Needless to say, kids can be cruel and they were relentless. They made fun of my clothing, my hair style, anything and everything because I didn’t wear the name brands and get my hair done at the beauty parlor. Not only did I have to wear hand-me-downs; I had a lisp, buck teeth, and a persistent snotty nose. I shed many tears during my elementary school years from the constant ridicule and because I was from a broken home, that made matters even worse. DeeDee on the other hand was pretty, blonde, athletic and popular; she had older sisters that had already gone through the grade school so all the teachers knew about her before she even started. Her road of success had already been paved for her and here I was trying to pave one for my younger siblings and it wasn’t looking good.
Before she took me under her wing and we became best friends, there were a few instances in the earlier school years where she stepped up in my defense. One day at recess on the merry-go-round, one of the kids pushed me off and my foot ended up getting twisted underneath it. I didn’t care about my foot so much but about my new ankle socks mom just bought me. I was devastated because they were torn to shreds. DeeDee immediately ran over to my rescue, knocked that boy on his ass and helped me in to see the school nurse. The next day, she bought me in a brand new pair of white ankle socks; I can still remember how confused yet exhilarated I was to receive a gift from a school kid. Another instance was one winter recess day, she was late coming out to the playground and the mean kids were beaming snowballs at my head and all I could do was stand there and cry. I remember it in slow motion, her running out the school door, screaming and heading right for them. I don’t how on earth she did it, but she gave everyone one of those boys a facial white wash. In the spring or fall, whenever we played kick ball or softball, I was never picked for a team and would end up sitting on the sidelines, well until DeeDee became my friend anyway. She was very athletic and the kids always picked her first for their team, but if I wasn’t playing, she wasn’t playing. It didn’t take too long for these kids to get the fact if they wanted her on their team; I was going to be playing, too.
I finally had my tonsils out in 5th grade so the runny nose and crunchy cough was gone and who came to visit me in the hospital, DeeDee of course. She made me a get well card and brought me in a gift. By 6th grade we wore the same size clothes and she’d ride her bike to my house practically every morning with a change of clothes for me. We had to sneak because my mom was adamant about me being proud of what I had and to not be one of those girls that had to wear what all the other kids were wearing. Her analogy to me was “if all the girls jumped off the bridge would you jump, too”? I couldn’t stand it. Anyway, I’d get changed out behind my house into the cool clothes before the bus came and to this day I can’t recall ever getting caught for that, cause I know my mother would have been pisssed if she knew. In 7th grade the school planned a bus trip to see the Haarlem Globe Trotters at Boston Gardens and there was nothing I wanted more then to be able to go on that trip. Of course there was NO way mom would ever pay for it, nor could she. My best friend DeeDee somehow collaborated with the coach and her parents and got me a ticket to go on that trip. She constantly went out of her way for me almost every one of my school days. DeeDee was the best friend anyone could ever ask for.
Although DeeDee ended up moving away during 8th grade (saddest day of my school year) she had "paid it forward" way before that phrase was ever spoken. If she hadn’t stepped into my life when she did I can only imagine how things would have turned out for me. She gave me strength and purpose; she never judged me and accepted me for who I was and not because of how much money I had. She was thoughtful, unselfish and compassionate; a true young humanitarian. We stayed in touch with one another long after each of us settled down, got married and had kids of our own. And to this day, she’ll always have a special place in my heart.
Before she took me under her wing and we became best friends, there were a few instances in the earlier school years where she stepped up in my defense. One day at recess on the merry-go-round, one of the kids pushed me off and my foot ended up getting twisted underneath it. I didn’t care about my foot so much but about my new ankle socks mom just bought me. I was devastated because they were torn to shreds. DeeDee immediately ran over to my rescue, knocked that boy on his ass and helped me in to see the school nurse. The next day, she bought me in a brand new pair of white ankle socks; I can still remember how confused yet exhilarated I was to receive a gift from a school kid. Another instance was one winter recess day, she was late coming out to the playground and the mean kids were beaming snowballs at my head and all I could do was stand there and cry. I remember it in slow motion, her running out the school door, screaming and heading right for them. I don’t how on earth she did it, but she gave everyone one of those boys a facial white wash. In the spring or fall, whenever we played kick ball or softball, I was never picked for a team and would end up sitting on the sidelines, well until DeeDee became my friend anyway. She was very athletic and the kids always picked her first for their team, but if I wasn’t playing, she wasn’t playing. It didn’t take too long for these kids to get the fact if they wanted her on their team; I was going to be playing, too.
I finally had my tonsils out in 5th grade so the runny nose and crunchy cough was gone and who came to visit me in the hospital, DeeDee of course. She made me a get well card and brought me in a gift. By 6th grade we wore the same size clothes and she’d ride her bike to my house practically every morning with a change of clothes for me. We had to sneak because my mom was adamant about me being proud of what I had and to not be one of those girls that had to wear what all the other kids were wearing. Her analogy to me was “if all the girls jumped off the bridge would you jump, too”? I couldn’t stand it. Anyway, I’d get changed out behind my house into the cool clothes before the bus came and to this day I can’t recall ever getting caught for that, cause I know my mother would have been pisssed if she knew. In 7th grade the school planned a bus trip to see the Haarlem Globe Trotters at Boston Gardens and there was nothing I wanted more then to be able to go on that trip. Of course there was NO way mom would ever pay for it, nor could she. My best friend DeeDee somehow collaborated with the coach and her parents and got me a ticket to go on that trip. She constantly went out of her way for me almost every one of my school days. DeeDee was the best friend anyone could ever ask for.
Although DeeDee ended up moving away during 8th grade (saddest day of my school year) she had "paid it forward" way before that phrase was ever spoken. If she hadn’t stepped into my life when she did I can only imagine how things would have turned out for me. She gave me strength and purpose; she never judged me and accepted me for who I was and not because of how much money I had. She was thoughtful, unselfish and compassionate; a true young humanitarian. We stayed in touch with one another long after each of us settled down, got married and had kids of our own. And to this day, she’ll always have a special place in my heart.
Friday, October 8, 2010
week 6 place
I’d only heard the stories eavesdropping on all the older kids out by the pool at the campground. I’d never heard of a place where you could see Santa Clause in the middle of summer with elves, reindeer and rides, especially the flume. No way! I thought they were pulling my leg. All these tales about this so called Santa’s Village came to me the summer my grandparents bought a campground in Jefferson New Hampshire. I was pretty young at the time, so needless to say, my first visit was one I’ll never forget. The short drive over from the campground heightened my anticipation of visiting the park.
When we walked into the park, Christmas music was blasting from tiny little speakers that hung in the trees, the staff was dressed in cheesy elf costumes and there were a variety of smells in the air ranging from diesel fuel, food and animal excretions. I didn’t care; I wanted to go on the rides and sweet talk my grandparents into buying me stuff!
My first ride was on the antique cars and I picked out a blue one. The track was set up with a metal rail going through the center of it so the car kind of straddled the rail during the ride. I’ll never forget that sound of metal hitting metal whenever I wasn’t paying attention because the underside of the car would scrape that protective rail and make a screeching noise that would curl your hair. Even though they didn’t go very fast, it was loads of fun driving through covered bridges, standing water and mud!
I took a train ride on the Santa Express and although it was my first visit, I got to sit in the front seat with the conductor. He tooted the horn as we chugged by the bystanders and everyone was waving. Of course I thought they were waving at me because I was riding up front but I soon found out everyone sitting on the train behind me was waving at the bystanders, they were simply waving back! What a dumbass.
After a few more rides, I finally got to visit fake Santa and pet and feed his reindeer. The aroma of feces and urine filled the air as I looked at my grandmother with my face scrunched from the smell. It was time to move on and find some food and presents.
The grand finale was riding on the Yule Log Flume (which my grandparents saved for last) because I ended up getting soaked! My adrenaline pumped through my body as I rode around the forest anticipating the ride down. I headed straight up the North Station and before I could even let out a scream, down I went. I thought that log must have climbed over 100 feet and came down at 100 miles an hour! It was just the way the kids described it and it was definitely the best ride ever! I left that park with the biggest smile on my face and I can still remember how anxious I was to get back to the campground so I could be one of those kids telling tales about my visit to Santa Village.
When we walked into the park, Christmas music was blasting from tiny little speakers that hung in the trees, the staff was dressed in cheesy elf costumes and there were a variety of smells in the air ranging from diesel fuel, food and animal excretions. I didn’t care; I wanted to go on the rides and sweet talk my grandparents into buying me stuff!
My first ride was on the antique cars and I picked out a blue one. The track was set up with a metal rail going through the center of it so the car kind of straddled the rail during the ride. I’ll never forget that sound of metal hitting metal whenever I wasn’t paying attention because the underside of the car would scrape that protective rail and make a screeching noise that would curl your hair. Even though they didn’t go very fast, it was loads of fun driving through covered bridges, standing water and mud!
I took a train ride on the Santa Express and although it was my first visit, I got to sit in the front seat with the conductor. He tooted the horn as we chugged by the bystanders and everyone was waving. Of course I thought they were waving at me because I was riding up front but I soon found out everyone sitting on the train behind me was waving at the bystanders, they were simply waving back! What a dumbass.
After a few more rides, I finally got to visit fake Santa and pet and feed his reindeer. The aroma of feces and urine filled the air as I looked at my grandmother with my face scrunched from the smell. It was time to move on and find some food and presents.
The grand finale was riding on the Yule Log Flume (which my grandparents saved for last) because I ended up getting soaked! My adrenaline pumped through my body as I rode around the forest anticipating the ride down. I headed straight up the North Station and before I could even let out a scream, down I went. I thought that log must have climbed over 100 feet and came down at 100 miles an hour! It was just the way the kids described it and it was definitely the best ride ever! I left that park with the biggest smile on my face and I can still remember how anxious I was to get back to the campground so I could be one of those kids telling tales about my visit to Santa Village.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
