As a child I was arrogant, self-righteous at times, privileged to have God as my father. I had disowned my parents around the age of five when I came to my own realization that I was smarter than them. I suppose all children go through this phase, but I’m unsure, I can only speak for myself in this respect.
Where did it come from? Gemini was so respectful, obedient. I was routinely hit or ‘put in my place’ but it didn’t change my attitude. My parents often vocalized their frustration; wondered why I was belligerent, unruly, and uncompromising with them. It’s true - I completely ignored everything they said or expected of me.
Let’s go back to the age of five...
One sunny day standing outside our church, my parents instructed me and Gemini to wait for them after catechism, ‘right here.’ They reinforced, ‘stay here - don’t leave.’ Catechism ended, the gate to the church basement locked, as did the remaining entrance to the church. Facing the main street, we waited as we were told. There in plain view we were curiously eyed by passing adults, two children clearly unattended, alone. After a while I got tired of waiting. I told Gemini to follow me. Gemini regurgitated our mandate. I told her I wasn’t going to wait for someone to take me. I walked to the street light and waited for it to turn. Gemini followed as we crossed the intersection to the other side of the street. We walked a few paces and stood at the bus stop and continued to wait. Shortly after, my parents pulled up beside us and told us to get in. They were annoyed but mostly they were amused. They supposed that we were going to take the bus and kept asking us where we going. They thought it was cute. I sat there, angry. I was livid that they left us alone, out in the open for so long. I hotly replied in my head, ‘we weren’t going to take the bus!’ I felt disgusted at their stupidity. It should’ve been obvious why we were waiting there. Standing at the bus stop meant we were expected by someone, in some manner. If we disappeared, someone would notice. It made us complicated prey.
That’s when I decided I was smarter than them, that my parents were mere care-takers for my real Father in heaven. At the age of three I had the feeling I wasn’t theirs but was attached, too young to notice their human frailties, wanting to be loved and held by these people.
Let’s move a little forward…
At the age of eight I managed to get my father to sign a contract saying he'd buy us twins each a bike. He’d been promising but nothing ever happened. One day while he sat at the kitchen table, I presented a small piece of paper consisting of a sentence, complete with a line for his signature. I dated it while he laughed. Charmed, he signed it. I folded that piece of paper and tucked it beneath a teacup in the buffet where my mother kept her good china. Periodically I’d confirm its placement, sometimes changing its location. A year later, to the day, I pulled out the paper and showed my father the promissory note. He tried to negate the deal but my mother insisted he keep his promise. Clearly defeated, he drove us to nearest Canadian Tire where he purchased two red bikes, each costing eighty-nine dollars. There’s a commemorative photo (insert smile) floating around somewhere of me and Gemini proudly displaying our bikes while wearing our favourite Michael Jackson T-Shirt. This was a great day. Battle won.
Growing up in my family wasn't easy, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Since I couldn’t please my parents by being like Gemini (my father was a drunk, I was his child-target, I was hit no matter what) I went ahead and did as I pleased. My father wasn’t a situation I could control, I understood that. There’s no way they could take of me, they couldn’t take care of themselves. I could take care of me – that’s what I did. Whatever Lesley wanted, Lesley obtained. If it meant getting beat, so be it, I was getting beat anyway. If I needed money, I would steal it from my mother. I felt they owed me, the very least, money to buy an ice-cream – a simple pleasure, since they offered me little more than shelter and food, as I saw it.
Yes, my parents loved me as best they could. A mother’s heart is just that, it’s pure, deep, and fierce. But my mother was herself physically petite, emotionally fragile; needing to be needed in a way that wasn’t empowering but diminishing. Any woman who decides to marry into a family where her future in-laws boldly state right in-front of her, ‘If she gets out of line, smack her a few, that’ll straighten her out’ is not someone who is likely to exact her own will. Did she think they were kidding?
Maturity, Grace, and Life have taught me humility, thankfully. I don’t know everything and I don’t want to. Getting paid to change office garbage bins filled with cigarette ash and coffee cups at four different companies, three times a week for several years as a teen, has contributed to this lesson.
Ultimately I learned to do what I needed to do because those watching wouldn’t or couldn’t do it for me. This mentality sometimes sufaces negatively as a lack of trust in others.
As a child, I observed, navigated, watched for patterns, this was how I survived.
There are others whose lives were living nightmares. There are still children who cry, unseen, unheard, caged in dark wet basements, unprotected by society or a kindly soul. What do their lives mean, when no one knows they exist? At least I screamed, at least I yelled, at least I did what I wanted. Who will be their Voice? Who will be their Freedom? See? I know - I’ve got nothing to complain about.
Continued on Saturday August 20th, 2011
Until then, I remain yours,
Lesley
Hallelujah Heartist
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