When I was a little girl, I didn't get to play much with dolls or spend time on play dates. I wasn't allowed to hang around with friends and have sleep overs and go shopping to malls. We didn't have a puppy or cat. We did play outdoors as long as I was watching my younger siblings and as long as we stayed within a certain play area. At Christmas time, I remember receiving one of those little dolls that had arm and legs held together by rubber bands and the minute you tried to twist the arms or legs, they would break. I would find another rubber band and somehow find a way to fix it. The other types of dolls I got were the paper dolls that came with paper clothes with tabs to fold back behind the doll. Ladies, you know the kind I am talking about-don't you? In those days, our parents could not afford fancy Barbie type dolls and all the accessories that came with them. Also, when I was allowed to play, those times were infrequent. I cherished those precious moments and I savored them like they were the last time. You see if my father found me playing I was usually scolded and or beaten and told to find chores to do. I was only nine or ten then.
There were many times when I would coerce my brothers and sister to grab (I think we borrowed it) a red wagon and run down the hill where the neighbors had lots of fruit trees. There were apple, pears and cherry trees in the neighborhood where we lived in New Jersey. We were so young and did not know the difference between ripe fruit and unripened fruit. But,anyhow,as one of us climbed the tree one of the other siblings would keep a look out for either my father, who would come looking for us, or the neighbor who owned the fruit trees. After we collected our bounty, we would find a hiding spot to eat the fruit. Have you ever had unripened apples or pears? Not very tasty! When my father found us, out came the thick belt and he would chase us as we ran crying and screaming back into the house because we knew severe punishment was waiting.
The above story is meant to give you a small insight and sampling as to how I spent some of my childhood. I want to impress upon my readers that much of what happens in our childhood affects how we grow up and how we are shaped as adults if we allow it! We can either get lost in the past and what did or did not happen and cast blame for everything that goes wrong in our adulthood, or we can use the past as a catalyst to improve our lives and find fun and happiness. Just because I am grown up, does not mean that I cannot find ways to be that little girl. I have the freedom to do as I please. There is no longer that threat of being beaten or to live in fear. I can play with dolls if I want. I can and do hug the little girl in me. I nurture her and tell her I love her and she is learning how to play without being afraid. The little girl in me is learning to take time off and do absolutely nothing or to ask what I want without reservation. I do not allow biological years to deter me from spending moments with her. There are still many tears to dry and loving words to say.
If you were to visit my home at this time of year, the first thing you would see is all the Santa Claus figures adorning my home. Most of them are musical and have motion at the touch of a button. There are many other figures, all Holiday related which make my home look like a Christmas Shop. My wonderful husband indulges me and contributes to the collection yearly. My Christmas tree has been put up with the help of my grandsons and stands regally adorned with festive ornaments and treasured momentos. In another week, the house will be alive with the laughter and chatter of five grandchildren for the first time in ten years. My grown children and spouses will be home for Christmas! There will be lots of playing going on and there will be much happiness and fun!!!!!
About Me
- Angela Zechinato
- Viera, Florida, United States
- Living the Florida Lifestyle with my husband Max and enjoying my life with 2 furry poodles Sissy and Missy who I call my children. My human children are all grown and on their own. I am a proud grandmother of 5. We live in Sunny, Central Florida in a gorgeous house on a lake. I am blessed to have overcome my abusive upbringing and have decided that it is time to write about it to help others who experienced the same physical and emotional abuse. This Blog is dedicated to those who have remained silent!!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Breaking From Tradition-Doing My Own Thing!!!
I've been thinking a lot lately about the effects of alcoholism on the pecking order of the siblings in my family. For example, in my family there are (7) siblings of which 4 are male and 3 female. I am the second eldest and the oldest of the females. Now, Why would this be on my mind so much, you might ask? Well, let me put it this way, although we have all grown up to be decent, good citizens, well-educated and law abiding, we all have our quirks and personality differences. Understandably, I was not the only one of my siblings to suffer from my father's drinking. I would not be so selfish as to want to stake that claim. And I certainly don't want that label as my claim to fame. My father's heavy drinking took it's toll on all of us. My mother's inability or refusal to remove us from that environment, did not help us either. Her cultural background and her religious convictions would not permit her to even contemplate leaving him and removing us from that way of life.
The seven of us get along, however, there are cliques among some of them. For instance, my two sisters are closer to each other and exclude me from many things. The youngest sister is actually 19 years younger than me. So, we really don't have much in common and for some reason no matter how hard I try to infiltrate the clique, nothing seems to work. They in turn get along well with one of my middle brothers and our oldest brother. Sounds confusing doesn't it? Most of my brothers and sisters basically just tolerate me. They are all very obliging to my parents especially to mom.Mom is "queen bee"-self-proclaimed and we are never allowed to forget that. My sisters call mom at least twice a day. I call once a week. So, guess what? That makes me a bad daughter and sister in their opinion. Most of the time they are all oblivious to each other even when in the same room. Oh, don't get me wrong. There are greetings and fake kisses or what I like to call "air kisses" on major get togethers like Mother's Day, Christmas or whatever function. The rest of the time, none of them remembers anything about prior conversations or even what is currently happening. They all live in a me,me world and that is the only important thing. If I do anything to deviate from what they believe or think should happen, they get angry because I do not follow their rules. In other words, they take their toys and go home!
.
Here is a perfect example and what got me thinking about this situation. Traditionally, the whole family unites for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Mother's Day, Father's Day and even to celebrate a broken toe if so ordered. This year, I chose to accept an invitation to celebrate Thanksgiving with my daughter-in-laws parents and family.How dare I do that! So, my husband, me,my son,his wife and little ones all went to Orlando and had a marvelous time. Every one talked and laughed and were interested in us and actually engaged in two way conversations. How novel! I haven't heard from my sisters who were not thrilled with my break from tradition.........
(to be continued.........)
Labels:
alcoholism,
brothers,
drinking,
personality,
siblings,
sisters
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