When my kids were tucked in bed and my husband was comfortably resting on the couch with his favorite show, I snuck off to my bedroom to call my mom. She was excited to talk about her childhood and "how it all began." This was a fun time between my mom and I, and I would encourage everyone to do this with your parents if you can, or anyone older than you. The past is a powerful tool to learn from.
Through my mother's eyes and my pen and paper, this is how her world began...
I was born on April 21st, 1962, in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I guess you could say I was born into a bit of chaos. My mother was married to a man (not my real father) just to avoid the words "illegitimate" on the birth certificate. My grandpa didn't want an un-wedlock child in his home, so this seemed like the best option. We lived in California on the marine base, but it never felt like home to my mom. She grew home-sick frequently and we would often make trips back to Michigan. My grandfather would pick us up from the airport. We did this several times, so I'm told, until the final pick-up. That's when my mom decided to leave my step dad, and move home to Michigan where we lived with my grandparents. It's with my grandparents that I formed some of my favorite childhood memories.
It didn't take long before my grandpa fell in love with me, and often told me I was his favorite. Of coarse, that didn't go over very well with my cousins, or my mom and aunt. In my eyes, my grandpa was the greatest man that ever lived! I loved mornings when my grandpa would say, "boo-boo, climb up here," and I would snuggle in bed with him. "Boo-boo" was my nickname. I always thought it was because I'd hide in the bedroom closet at night and jump out to scare my grandma, but later found out it was because I was an "accident". Either way...I liked it when my grandpa called me by that name. My grandpa loved to take me to Howard Johnson's for breakfast to teach me how to order my eggs. He'd ask, "boo-boo, how you gonna order your eggs today?" I'd reply, "over-easy Grandpa." "Order sausage links too boo-boo," He would always add. Of course, we couldn't leave the restaurant with-out him flirting with the waitress. That man was my hero. He was the one who put the love for music into my bones. He could play the trumpet and piano by ear. And boy could he sing! I loved it when he would sing me the song, "It Had to Be You;" that was our song. I have such great memories getting together with the family and watching my grandpa and uncles play their instruments. It wasn't a party with out a little booze and music.
My grandma kept the house so neat, simple, and clean. Their house gave me a warm, cozy feeling. I have fond memories dancing to Motown in the front living room with her. I loved it when grandma would take me to the State Theater to see all the new Disney movies. I loved theater! I was a bit of a dramatic little girl and I loved attention. I would stand in front of their picture window and sing, "You blew the blues right out of the horn Mame..." At night my grandma would have me kneel down by my window and look at the stars. We'd say the same prayer every night: "Lord help us be happy and healthy and do what's right, amen." She'd then tuck me in and lay next to me and with the low hum of the t.v. I drifted off to sleep.
You may be wondering where my mom was in all of this. To be honest, I don't remember much of my mom during this time in my life. The memories I have are sketchy and not great. I remember seeing my mom and grandpa get into a huge fight and my grandpa hit her. As I watched her trip over the fan and fall to the ground I felt confused. I loved them both so much and I couldn't understand why this was happening. I also remember her showing me a receipt from a surgery I had. She made sure I was aware that I knew it was because of my medical bills that she needed to work three jobs to pay for it. My least favorite memory of my mom was on an afternoon when my grandpa was trying to watch a game on t.v. I decided to break out into song and dance to entertain him in front of the television. Obviously, it wasn't good timing and he told me to get out of the way. That's when my mom told me to get into the car. She drove me to Bronson Park, and told me to get out. Her last words before she drove off were, "I hope someone kidnaps you." I stood there for what seemed like an eternity, crying and confused. I think she just went around the block, but at four-years-old, it felt like forever. She did pick me back up and we carried on like nothing ever happened.
Drugs took over my mom, until she couldn't see light at the end of the tunnel. That's when she sat in her room and decided her life needed to end.
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