Saturday, March 27, 2010

THE BIGGEST BLIZZARD IN THE LAST 20 YEARS...part three

    I pulled off my mittens, crusty and frozen solid from all my tears.  I settled in tentatively.  I thought of all of the years of the nuns telling us not to get in a car with strangers.  Of my parents repeating this to make sure it hit home.  And here I was.  In a car with a man I knew nothing about who was driving us supposivley to Chicago, The Big City, a city I have been only a few times.  There was nothing to do but try and relax and enjoy the warmth that now enveloped me. My decision had already been made and now this was the consequence.  Jim and the man talked easily.   About the weather, serving in the army, the state of the country.   Their chattering helped me to settle in as the fear I had subsided.   This was it...I was on my way to California and there was really no turning back now.   I shut my eyes and thought of my parents...of the state I left them in..no, no..I couldn't think of them now.  I had to block that from my mind and not allow myself to think of that...I was leaving a home of much sorrow and sadness...a home that didn't always nurture a young girl.   A home that had its share of fighting and anger and grief and pain..A home that more times than not had left me with a burning, empty, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as I tried to shove down what was going on in it...     The truth was I couldn't handle it anymore.      I had done my best.  But now I finally realized that the problems in my  home were not my problems but my parents problem...I couldn't save them anymore..I couldn't be the little clown that made them laugh and distracted them from the truth of what was going on in that home.  I could have spent the rest of my life trying to save them, but now it was my turn to try and save myself, whatever part of myself that was left worth saving..because truth be told I didn't have a single, solitary idea of who I was, what I was worth or if I was even worth saving.  Because all I ever learned was how to pretend..how to lie...how to cheat...and how to act as if everything was ok when it was not.   You see, this wasn't leaving home.  It was an escape.

14 comments:

koralee said...

I think I missed the first post of this story...so off to find it and read ..not sure if this is fiction or non-fiction but you are an amazing writer my friend.
Thank you for your sweet comment you left on my blog...I sooooooo adore coming and visiting you....off to find that post. xoxoxo

maura said...

Oh Cynthia...what a sad story. You poor girl...I can't even imagine living in a home like that. My parents split and I went to live with my Dad and his parents but only a couple of times do I ever remember any arguing or raised voices. I feel so sorry for you I want to give you a big old HUG!!!!! Well you must have found out who you are and found your place in the world and discovered that you were worth saving because look at you now. You play the Ukelele...make jewelry and live in a beautiful home in Califorinia with a wonderful English artist husband!!! What more could you ask for huh!!! Ok maybe a couple of chickens for the garden. Anyway my friend I can't wait to read 'the rest of the story'. I hope you have a wonderful day....MauraXX

jaboopee said...

You cannot grow up without leaving your parents home. I couldn't wait to leave either and I think it''ll be fantastic for my own daughter when she leaves too.

Chris said...

Waiting for the next installment of your journey into a (hopefully) better life. Thank you for sharing. Many of us didn't have the "perfect" childhood. Your sharing helps us all to heal a bit more!

Jeanette said...

Oh Cynthia, breaks my heart. I was very blessed with both a loving home to grow up in and a loving home to raise my daughter. You are making me count my many blessing today and I can only read this without crying because of how wonderful it seems to have all worked out. I'm looking forward to learning more about your journey. Thanks for sharing. I'm sure it takes a lot to share such a personal story.

Fire Byrd said...

The start of this installment is truely scary and atmospheric. But by the end I'm with you wanting to make your escape and become yourself, however that was back then.
Our life journeys are so well hidden as we get older. No-one knows what we went through to get to be who we are now. It is a priviledge to be part of your now.
Thank you
xx

Pam said...

So many of us wanted to escape back then,at a young age, and I think it is both amusing and fascinating that now it is quite hard to boot offspring out of the nest. At the risk of generalizing, in my experience this generation seems to quite like us, our music and our humour. My husband and I can really relate to your statement "I finally realized that the problems in my home were not my problem but my parents problem".Our children, as they look back on our histories of that era, often say "I don't know how you could stand it", and so often we couldn't, and voted with our feet.I am enjoying your posts and can't wait to read more.x

Paula said...

First we think we cant help them anymore to later figuring we never could help them aynway. Escaping I did, in my mind. Between the synapses you could find a frightened child. Breaking the connection between left and right brain, still struggling to improve that coordination. Hiding in my mind, anything else never crossed my paralyzed body. I am in corner. The hrt and pain is hard to handle.

mise said...

Cynthia, you remind me of "Girl Writing a Letter" -
http://home.coa.edu/COMMUNITY/FacultyPages/CarpenterB/index.html

PK Studios said...

I'm so happy you are continuing your story. Had you ever written this down before? Though I have such a different story than yours, it sure brings me back to those days of vulnerability. Thank you for continuing to share. Hugs, Penny

nostalgia*gal said...

Ah, my sweets...came over to tell you to email me direct as I do know how to do your link! I figured it out last week. nostalgia_gal@comcast.net as your email to me is a no reply, just the blog address.

We have much more in common with your story, I think I told you I ran away from home at 17.
Hugs,
cindykay

Dustjacket Attic said...

As the story unfolds, a clearer picture becomes evident. Sounds like a very sad home life and that you were right in being your own person and making your own life for yourself....which is easier said than done.

re comment...sending love right back to you.
xoxo

La Petite Gallery said...

Thanks for sharing, I had a messed up childhood when my Mom left my Dad at 16.
Sending you and your loved ones a Happy Easter.
Yvonne

LEX TALIONIS said...

I am just realizing now how screwed up my parents are. When one lives in chaos and negativity it becomes the norm. I found out the hard way, but at least I found out. http://iamscatology.blogspot.com/2009/10/on-major-depression.html
Beautiful jewelry. I have an obsession with gypsies.

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