Sunday, July 12, 2009

house on harper st....full of love (part 2)

the truth is that growing up wasn't all that bad there was no locking in the closet or monumental beatings. We all end up a little fucked up in the end. Childhood is where it all begins, where the subtle spoken word or the misguided intentions of a parent inevitably attaches to you forming the person that you are today.

Being pregnant and 17 is just another chapter , one that will undoubtedly be a vivid one filled with raw experiences and gut wrenching emotion. The summer was long, in childhood the summers always flew by over before they even started and back to school. But now, now it was long and filled with uncertainty and change, my changing home (yes again) my changing feelings, my changing friends and my changing body. That was also the summer my grandfather on my father's side passed away. My grandmother, affectionately known as grandma Mae was close to me, closer to me than any other adult as few adults if any earned my respect and if they did not have that they were dismissed into the pool of contempt. She knew I was pregnant before anyone else, other than my mother. She just knew. I didn't need to tell her she guessed by the third day of my one week stay with her shortly after grandpa passed and she tended to me and loved me the same way she did before she knew. She didn't pass judgement or lecture, she simply loved me and accepted the things that came. This was; perhaps the greatest gift she could have ever taught me. We accept life as it comes we adapt and we continue to move forward. A week with her was a vacation from expectations that i could never achieve and judgemental tones, it was safe place where you could just be loved and when the time was right she would offer up some words of wisdom, usually during a heated card game of Gin, which she always won!

that summer we packed up our rental home and moved back "home" to Grandma Edie's, where we were not wanted and she made sure she let us know with every comment, every action, every breath. she didn't know i was pregnant and the goal was to keep that from her until we could leave her snake pit. this was to be a temporary move until we could buy our own house, my mother's ultimate goal her end all to all of the moving we only had to last 3 months with her, we could do that.....
the anger and resentment in that house was so heavy in the air that it stung my eyes. the distaste my grandma Edie had for my mother was so painful obvious it loomed in the house like the unwanted house guest that moved in along with us. her dislike for her own daughter, my mother naturally overflowed spilling out onto my sister and i who at 16 and 17 already had a deep dislike for authority figures, the combination of her bitterness and our hormones made for a combustible combination that lingered in the home just waiting for someone to throw the match. you couldn't breathe there she made sure of that.

mom hid most days behind her work, spending long hours there and leaving us behind for a slow and torturous day with grandma. most days started for me with an early morning wave of nausea that woke me from my sleep to remind me of the changes that were happening inside. suppressing the urge to throw up and draw any undo attention was always a great way to start the day. after the bile would settle back down in the pit of my stomach where it belonged i was often roused lovingly from bed by that nasty bitch from hell with a clapping of her hands and "chop, chop, time to wake up" this usually made me want to leap from my bed and punch her square in the face , but often only resulted in a string of choice swear words in attempt to vanquish her from my room. she didn't cease there if we didn't get up, which we usually did not, she would progress to the kitchen where she would bang the pots and dishes creating such a flurry of noise that it left you little choice but to get up.

life there was miserable, exhausting, painful...there was no escape from her always watchful eyes, no where to steal a private moment or hide away from her bitter tongue. this was going to be a long 3 months....

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

random thoughts, of half consciousness (part 1)

dozing off tonight my mind as usual started in on overdrive, a flurry of thought begetting my already exhausted and now drugged body of any sleep at all. the little blue pill that swam happily down to the pit of my stomach should be well dissolved and yet here we are, together, at last, you the reader, my body, and my mind swirling with delusional art, lude sex acts and painful childhood experiences. somewhere some freudian or maybe not even a freudian, perhaps just a decent connect -the- dot -psyche.d just read that last line and thought hmmm.....If I need to point it out to you then you have missed the connection and it isn't worth the explanation as I am sure that it will all come pouring out for the interested and the equally uninterested to read and interpret into there own truth.
what i was really thinking about tonight in my ambien haze...which i have so come to covet, is about that time, back at home in my mom's kitchen, we were packing yet again to move I think that this move in particular was move number 9 or 10, lost track but nonetheless it was another packing and unpacking up of our lives. the sense of permanency had been long lost as my mother had no idea who she was and so therefore neither did we. Moving every year to a new town or a new home in the same town or depending on how bad the finances we would just go back home to grandma Edie's home on Harper st. the house we all new, nearly instinctually from birth that it was the home that grandpa built.
but the house i was packing now was to move back home to grandma's house so this was not so bad, out of all the places we had been, home had to turn up somewhere. My job at 17 and oh yeah, did i forget to mention pregnant, was pretty much all of the packing. Mom working full time and a half was often to exhausted, to cranky to play little house on the prairie so I started doing some of the "motherly" things . food shopping, paying the bills, and balancing the check book became my newly assigned hobbies. cleaning was something my sister and i always split and she and i took care of all cleaning by sat. or risk getting grounded, we never finished on time, she would ground us and then within 4 hours change her mind, perhaps that is why my parenting skills are lacking today.
I am sure that i have lost the point of what it was that i was thinking here it is.
Maryanne my mothers friend was there helping me pack up the kitchen, you know being pregnant and all, she was upset this day because her husband and her were in one of the many valleys of marriage. I recognized her pain and I laid claim to intimately know the kind of pain it is; to equally love and hate someone, the pit it burns in your stomach is indescribable. but it is there in the bottom of that pit that I in my own moments of wretched blackness reached down so deep into myself to find that light that lives in each of us. in the beginging it flickers so softly that you fear one more breath, one more tear will extinguish it. grab hold of it, breathe life into it and that will illuminate your way through the darkest of days allowing you to cotinue to move forward and by moving forward you heal. that is what at 17 i shared with my mother's 38 year old friend. because some how even through her own divorce from her first husband she did not know this. it takes the blackest of days to see your inner light shine and even then you must seek it out. sevenfuckinteen....and i knew this, i had found it and now knew that i was strong enough to have the little one growing in me. thank you brian for all that preceeded this baby, as that gave me the strength to have her alone and face the prying eyes.

i have always had a very detached view of my life looking at it from the outside in as if turning the pages of my own book. some chapters are very colorful, shameful, deeply sexual and there are some that are boring, but one thing they never are is ordinary. you wont find any of that here, but maybe just maybe you may find a little of your self here, the dark and twisty side that makes you chuckle at the not so funny things, or you may cry because someonelse has felt pain like that too. If you read this and can't relate at all check your pulse, and read some other blog that has practical advice on who the fuck knows what!
we have only touched on the tip of this titty my friend....maybe you will stick around for full on cutllingus on our next date. sweet dreams. wow, ambien is kickin my ass....