Year 11

The year that I turned 11, was quite a turbulent year.   

Up until I was about 16 years old, I thought the reason why my mother was so angry was because of,  Me!   I thought, I was the cause of all her life's disappointments.   

{Just to be perfectly precise;-  That was how I felt.}

It is the same feeling, any child of divorced parents get, when they think, their parents' divorce is all their fault.   It isn't a logical conclusion, it is one based on feelings and impressions.    Probably the biggest factor in my conclusion, that I was the sole cause of my mother's anger and my parents divorce came when I was 11 years old.

We moved house, not only did we leave the house I had known for the longest period of time.   {My father was in the Navy so moving every few years was fairly common.}   But we had been in that house, 135 Weston Drive for 6 years!  The move wasn't just to a better area, we moved to another state, so we could be closer to my Dad's aging parents and within months, my grandfather died.

The start of school that year was stressful for me.   I can remember being so anxious, that I did not get a minute of sleep.  My brother and sister were a few years older and they were both in High School & Middle school,  respectively.   So I was dropped at the local Elementary school, which was not expecting me.

On that very first day, when any school teacher will tell you there is plenty to do, I was passed from one classroom to another.   It was as if I had walked in from the Twilight Zone.  There weren't any papers filled in, so no one knew anything about what school I had come from, nor which class I should be in.  {What seems very odd to me now is, why wasn't my mother there to fill in forms and permission slips,etc?   Why was I so insignificant that my first day in a new school would be left to no one checking to see if everything was in place?}

So, there are feelings of neglect and abandonment.   There is also Bewilderment, I wasn't able to give the adults the answers they were looking for, and they had no way to contact one who could!

However, someone did notice me.  There was a young girl in the class they finally decided was a good fit for me.  Patty sat at a desk all by herself, up on a little stage area.  She looked at me when I walked in and declared,"You don't belong here!"

Perhaps she was able to read the feelings in my heart, that I felt an outsider, a stranger and was desperately looking for ANY sign that I did belong.   But, whatever the reason that drove her to make her judgement on me, those words had a long lasting impact.    {It strikes me as funny to note, that in the many years since I thought about this one day, I can still recall the bizarre woolen vest she wore and her brown skirt.  All the details held in sharp focus,so that I could replay the pain of being an outcast in the small village culture that the Elementary school had already created.}  How was I to make friends and influence people?

So, my first day at my new school was far too stressful!

Because we moved, I had to say good bye to a wonderful friend.   I had left behind a friend that I had been close to for 5 years.   I think, Melissa Bunk and I were 'Best' friends on the first day of Elementary school.    Melissa had gone with us, on our family's annual two weeks to Rehobeth Beach together.   We made up songs, and performed them for my Granny.   We bought matching dresses and skirts.  We even had a crush on the same teenage boy at the Carnival games.   This was a special, close friendship.   So, it was hard to be in a place looking for a friendly face after having had the privilege of a friendship with warmth and like-minded play.

We saw each other again about 12 months after the move, but we were both quite changed by the experiences in our lives.  When I really think it over, it was probably that I had been through so much in such a short space of time.

To find another friend like that, was a Tall task.

I did make some friends.  I found myself in the fold of a group.   The leading girl told us, we needed to get Dale to break up with Yvonne.   I wasn't sure why, but I went along with her and the other girls and we told Dale.   That afternoon Dale did as he was told and Yvonne cried and begged in front of all of us.   I think, the point of that exercise was so the lead girl could date Dale herself.   The real effect of this afternoon, was the fact that Dale had an older sister, Gail.   Gail drove me home.   When she came in to see if I had supervision, she met my older Brother.   From that day, Gail was willing to have me over, drive me home, stay with me at the house.   Because she thought my brother was cute!

Anyhow, that group of people, they weren't really good friends for me.  It was really a clique.  I might have been lucky to have been snapped up by them, but really, I longed for the confidences and writing songs and dancing to music like I had with Melissa.  I wrote to her regularly those first few months.

Our move, was also a promotion for my father.  We now lived in a fancy house on the Naval Base.   It was one of five houses.  The Surgeon General lived next door to us.  His house was the biggest of all the five and had central position on our crescent.   There were no other living quarters near us.   That was also the word we used to describe our home, 'the Quarters'.  There was only one other family with young kids, so we would play with them often.
In many ways, this should have been a fabulous move for all of us.   We had a bigger house, I mean who doesn't want a bigger house?   There was very little to worry about, as there were guards who checked cars coming and going from the Base.  We lived in a very secluded area of the Base.   This meant, riding bikes, skateboards and playing out side was a safe activity.   There was a community pool, a bit too far for us to walk too, so we would go in the car.   But it also had the Officers' Club which we all went to once for a special celebratory meal.   I remember watching my mother and father dance that night.   It was the first night I tried filet-mignon.  I loved watching my parents dance, they were a beautiful couple.  I also really enjoyed the soft, luxurious meat I had that night too.

It was at some point, after my grandfather died that he came to see me.   That was a very traumatic night.

I think my parents found me quite a difficult child.  I was always told I had 'such an active imagination'.   You know, kinda in a huff, the way parents tell you what you just said is silly or unimportant!   Because, I remember climbing out of bed one night, and my mother desperately trying to talk me back into my bedroom.   I was trying to describe to her that the lights were keeping me up.   I could see, these little light bubbles moving about.  My father said, I had probably cut off the circulation some where.  He probably meant to my brain!
Do you know?   Just the other day, I was listening to a lecture from an Enlightened teacher talking about how some people perceive the presence of the divine.   {Can you guess what I am about to say?}
She described the movement of thoughts and energy forms, as tiny light bubbles!   So, every time I shut my eyes and they were there,  I thought, oh, I must make sure to lie flat!   Don't want to cut off any circulation!

Okay, so the last in the long line of trauma for this year, is . . .   {Drum roll}.   My father announcing he was moving out.   I stayed up all night that night!   But the tears and drama of that evening were truly only the beginning of the pain.  As, for some reason, my mother made me go to a psychiatrist.

This was my main reason for believing that, all those years as a little girl, when she was scrubbing the house to cleaner than Hospital sanitary standards;-  the venom with which she set about to house work and her daily exercise routine, had to do with her disappointment and frustration over, staying home with me.   Now, she never told me, I would like you to go.   She never offered it.   I was just sent.   Like I was just sent to a school that wasn't expecting me.  I was packed off to weekly meetings with a psychiatrist and I had no reason for why I was going.  

The real kicker for me was, neither my brother nor sister went.   So, I just sat there and said nothing.   I said nothing for fear of, if I opened my mouth and talked about seeing lights or my passion for dancing with the lights or my visit from my Grandfather.   I might never get to go home.

So, this last equation to this series of traumatic life changing events was the one that put me in shut down.  For the next 2 decades if anyone confronted me, I would just shut down.  It was my only way of self preservation.  

I guess it worked.  I am still here.  

However, there were many times when I needed a voice.  There were many times when I needed me, to stand up, just for myself.

Now, The best part!

 Welcome my brother's girlfriend.

So, flash forward to the age 16.   My brother is visiting home from College now, and he has brought with him his live in girlfriend.   She is kind enough to fill in all the blanks to my parents marriage and the divorce.  It made so much sense to me after that.   She really helped me begin to see that I wasn't the cause of my mothers anger.   That was a much need relief!