March 7, 2001

  • Memories - Part III


    Part I
    Part II


    It was hard for my mother to have been abandoned by my father. She loved him and it hurt inside. One day my sisters were out in the backyard playing and my mom was talking to my aunt in the living room. They didn't realize I was in the house and I could hear them talking.


    "It hurts so much Phyllis, sometimes I don't think I can stand another moment," I heard my mother say. "Yesterday I was washing the dishes and I picked up the carving knife and thought about just killing myself."


    In fear I quickly ran to my room and grabbed TB, my teddybear, and hugged him, crying. "Please God, take care of my Mommy, please! I don't want her to die!" I sobbed into the fur of my bear for a long time before I was able to calm down, but I never told my mom what I had heard.


    In the days that followed I planned how I could help more. I offered to wash dishes, sweep the floor, cook the eggs for breakfast. I asked mommy to teach me to cook other things. I figured that if she died, I would have to take care of Sarah and Beth and I needed to know how to do it. I knew how to wash the clothing and hang it outside to dry. I knew how to walk to the grocery store.


    I was afraid, but I did not know who to talk to. But I also knew in my heart that I would not let anything tear Beth, Sarah and I apart.


    Near Christmas time my mother hired a young lady from Mexico to help watch us girls and keep the house clean while mom was at work. I recall the woman having a kind heart and being soft spoken.


    A few weeks after she started my mother told us that the lady would be living with us and be part of our family. I was confused, but I thought it would be nice to have her live with us. Later that day the lady came back with a suitcase and smiled shyly at all us.


    My sisters and I played in the backyard and my mother helped the young lady to settle in with us. After dinner I remember sitting in the living room playing with toys when suddenly there was a horrible noise at the door.


    There were loud and angry screams and the lady cried out afraid and hid in my mother's bedroom. Then kicking and kicking until the door broke down. And there I saw a huge angry man who cussed and growled as he forced his way into the house, slamming and kicking through the house until he found the young lady. He dragged her out of the room, screaming and crying. I watched and I was afraid. We all stood there afraid, knowing that there was no match for him in the house.


    He pulled her outside, pushed her into a car and we never saw her again. In the stuggle our Christmas tree had fallen over and shattered many of the ornaments. My sisters and I were all crying by now and my mother held us and told us it would be ok. I remember listening, but no longer found I could believe it.

Comments (5)

  • Ah, the joys of childhood. Thanks for sharing this, Jane. I find it interesting to see the things that shape and mold us.

  • I don't remember that.  I do remember thinking that Mom could make anything better.  I remember feeling safe at that house... something I didn't feel a whole lot of later.

  • i wish YOU were MY big sis too!!! 

  • Out of your experiences a truly wonderful person emerged. You must be a very strongwilled.

    Hey I'm with Lucy. Will you adopt me as a sister too? I've always wanted a sister.

  • *giggles* I will adopt both Loopdeloup and Liz_A, ok? :)

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