I explained mom, her boyfriend, my bestie who was her boyfriend’s daughter, and Norma, her boyfriend's wife in my last post.
Norma was the best cook ever. I wish I could find a picture of her. She was comfortable to be around. She was caring and quiet. Calm. She was OCD before it became a ‘thing’. She would place something on a shelf and move it micro inches over and over again. She was patient and kind. How she got involved in the Peyton Place drama, I have no idea. Her previous husband had been shot.
I don't know her story about meeting John, but John was a demanding jerk. He could be next to the telephone and would yell across the house for one of us to answer it. When he disciplined us, it was 5 hours of bullshit reiterating a hundred times what he was trying to drill through our head. He hit us. He abused me every way possible. He shared me with his friends. I cannot tell you how much I hated him. In the same breath, I cannot tell you how much I loved Jeanie and Norma.
I always wonder why people go to the depths he did. How do they get there? What happened in their life that turned them into a demon? I honestly hate him, but I also have... not compassion, but an inquiring mind, I guess. I don't understand people who have so much hatred that they have to abuse and take others down their morbid path. Where did it start? Where they born like that? Where they abused?
I was abused and I did not carry that kind of abuse on. I dug myself out of that hell hole with my husband and I have found out who I really was. I have found me, and I love me. Sure I make mistakes and have regrets. I would love to get a grip on my weight, but even so, I am finally comfortable in my own skin.
But it only takes one word, one visual, one touch, one thought to take me right back to "then" - absolute heart stopping terror, still to this day.
As I said, I took the kids under my wing, and mom and I kinda battled back and forth. She was the adult, so she should have taken control, but she didn't. Maybe I was strong willed then. Pretty sure I was, in fact. I tried my best to protect my sisters and brother from the brunt of what was going on. As a child, I am sure I did everything wrong, but my heart was in the right place.
Liz was the second child, my little sister - 8 years younger than me. She and I were tight as kiddos. That was a somewhat calm time in our life. She was always the type of kid that needed more attention. We played jacks, marbles and I read books to her. But I was not enough. I was sissy, but she needed more.
Moma, Shari and Danny, the twins were 2 months old.
We got through it, but it was not an easy task. And Liz... well, I remember at one time, mom and I sitting in the living room and the three little ones were this way and that way. Mom looked at me and she said, "Which one are you going to grab? I will get the other two!" 😂
Fast forward a bit... Liz had become even needier. Obviously, the twins took a lot of time. Liz needed to be noticed, and I tried, but I think she actually needed mom and dad. Dad had checked out, mom was here and there, so it was mostly me. I don’t think I was enough, but I tried.
It was during this time that things started to shift with mom. Somewhere in here, mom had a car wreck because dad ran her off the road. She rolled the car, had no seat belt on and once she was out she was terribly hurt. He would not allow her to go to the hospital. Years later, when she was living with me, the Dr asked her when she broke her back... her answer was, “I rolled the car years ago.” :-( The wreck caused her not to be able to do much with us 4 kids, Then John came along.
Maybe that is when I kinda started being the other 'mom'. When my mom was mentally broken first, then physically broken forever. She loved us. She was so messed up by many people. She tried, I tried and we grew stronger for what we all went through. Even the nastiness gave us strength.
Danny was always in fast forward, I assume hyperactive, but who knows. He was loud and clumsy. We knew where he was 100% of the time. He was difficult to handle because he could do hoolahoops around us when we tried to coral him! And he was always happy as a toddler. He laughed at the silliest things. If you were serious about something, he would make a silly face to make you get 'off of serious'. He was a goof; always entertaining and trying to be a comedian. But he always had a deep need for cuddles and love. Always. He just wanted to be loved. In fact, he would almost turn inside out to be loved. John tormented him and took that fun guy away. I can't talk about what happened, but I lost my brother to John.
Sherry (mom's spelling), Shari (her changed spelling) was sickly. Norma took her under her wing and Shari could do nothing wrong. Norma took up for every freaking thing that happened. She coddled Shari, she pampered Shari, she loved Shari and she spoiled the heck out of her - I suppose in a good way. Whatever Shari did was cute, or fun or protected. She could absolutely do no wrong. But her doing that with Shari turned Shari against us. She knew that no matter what she did, Norma would take up for her. And Norma did. Then moma backed her up.
Shari actually made a game out of singing, "I'm mean, I'm mean ImmMeanImMeanImMean! and just laugh and laugh! She was cute, but she knew she ruled the roost. Shari knew she was loved. Moma loved on her sweet, sickly baby, Norma coddled her and there was no doubt she knew she was treasured.
Jeanie came into the picture sometime when the twins were young. She and I hung out day in and day out. We took care of kids, played and we visited. We were more than best friends, we were sisters. I won't share everything that happened with us, but suffice it to say, we know, we grew, we married, and we are truly survivors - no, we are warriors. We made it through that insane dynamic.
No comments:
Post a Comment