Crossing over that seemingly endless bridge with such high hopes. A new house, a new neighborhood, new school, new stores, new yard, new everything….. except us…we were still the same. The broken family with nothing. The beginning was very exciting as learning about our new living area and town was quite interesting and fun. We’d take a taxi to the beach down by the pier. I didn’t know then that was not the “real” beach, in my mind, we were living large. With a blanket spread out on the sandy beach and a chair for Nanny, along with some drinks we had arrived. Tommy and I played for hours in the water as Nanny sat on the sand overlooking the beautiful shore, sky and her two young great grandchildren. It was summer and we would have all the fun one summer could hold. Finally, laughter in my family. Nanny would let me go down the street to this family owned deli and buy two meatball hero’s for .50 cents each, or sometimes three, when we had enough money. We would split them up and she always let Tommy and I eat the special hot pepperchino. As I look back, I can not remember one time when she took something for herself, first. We always came first and she tried so hard to make us live and believe, as if we were the perfectly normal family we only dreamed of.
Not much time had passed before the newness became a liability rather than an asset. It soon became apparent that all we had there, was each other. Normally, that would have been a great start, but we weren’t normal. We had no means of transportation, Nanny was now 72 years old, Tommy was 9 and I was 11. We had to go to school, which we both did and were thrown into a world that we never knew existed. Filled with anticipation and jitters we started the new school. Very meticulously I selected my NEW dress to wear to school, the mini dress with horizontal stripes and a purse sewn right into the dress. I was bubbling with excitement and a slight hesitation, I hadn’t known before. To my astonishment, I was briefly introduced to my new classmates by the new teacher and left on my own to make my way. The other children made very little effort to get to know me, as they were all very busy discussing their summers with their longtime friends. Suddenly it hit me, I was afraid. There was fear in me as big as a I had ever imagined and I had no idea of how to escape from it. The large welling ache in my stomach and the trembling of my body was hard to disguise. The mere idea of having to make new friends, terrified me. As I stood alone and listened to the other children laughing and telling stories with delight, a sense of loneliness drifted through me and filled my insides like never before. That feeling became a normal part of who I was to become, for years and maybe even decades to follow.
People all knew each other there and no one knew us. They knew NOTHING about us….hmmmm I thought, if they know nothing, then how will they know if I just make up our life. That was the moment it began, LIES …. lies about everything. Soon I became the new girl in school who had a ranch in northern Florida and 13 brothers and sisters and a mom and dad. They all lived up north on the ranch, except Tommy and I, we came here to take care of our grandma for a few years, but often traveled back to the ranch. Ohhh, the ranch was beautiful. A stable full of fine bred horses, along with the normal chickens, goats, pigs and cattle. Just ask me I’d tell you the names of each and every one of my 13 brothers and sisters, and all the animals. My parents were very wealthy and ran the ranch. Never once did it ever dawn on me that no one believed me. It was no problem though because I knew none of them and they had no idea about my family except what I told them. I suddenly wasn’t the girl with no family, I was the girl with a very close large family. So at the age of eleven years old my lying to the world and to myself began. Terrified that one of them may find out my secret I kept to myself and helped Nanny on weekends. There was always things to do, grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, ironing, cooking etc.
Slowly we began to know the neighbors and become friendly with them. The house just to the east of us was a sweet older couple. The woman would bake and share her treats with us and Nanny would sometimes sit and drink iced tea with her out on the patio. Life was progressing nicely as the summer heat boiled right through to fall and winter. Gardening became a fun hobby and we would all go outside in the shade and plant flowers. The flowers were different colors and shapes and made our modest little home seem so much more beautiful. It was to hot in Florida to sit for very long outside, at least inside we had a fan. We got a slip and slide and would cool off on that in the hot humid summertime. Tommy and I were the best of buds, we were all we had.
I was lonely for friends but didn’t have much time for them, but one day I got the idea that I was going to track down this girl that rode her bicycle past our house and I was going to become friends with her. How; I didn’t know, but I did know I was going to do it…the day came and I followed her on my bicycle down the first gravel alleyway. I rode right up along side her and kicked over her bike. Of course she fell and shouted “HEY……..what’d you do that for”. I apologized and said it was an accident, and she became my first Florida friend. Her name was Kathy and she lived down the street. We didn’t spend much time together but at least I had a friend now. She invited me to her house which naturally was bigger and better than ours and she had both parents too. I was ashamed of my family, ashamed that I only had a great grand mother and brother. I guess somewhere along the line I picked up the idea that it was much less than what everyone else had. I tried hard never to show my disappointment because I didn’t want Nanny to feel bad, after all she had given up her whole life for us after Mommy died. She was the bravest and most loving woman I ever knew and unfortunately sometimes the focus of my rage. She loved me so, and I don’t know how I knew it but I just knew that deep inside she loved me more than anyone. I felt really sorry for her because I saw how hard she tried and how short she always came up. It was never enough, always just getting by; but barely.
MOSAIC LIFE 