Chapter 11

The winter of 1991/1992 I was 15 and about to have my "Sweet 16".  I was beginning to feel more comfortable in my own skin  It became easier at this age to hide the dirty little secrets I had at home.  The filth of our apartment never went away, but I could make dang sure it would not show.  I was borrowing cute clothes from my brother and friends, I was wearing makeup, and the awful perm I got at 14 was FINALLY growing out. It had been now only 2 years since my father passed away, yet it felt like an eternity.  Actually, it was almost like he never existed.  My mom would stay up all hours of the night getting high and writing me letters. I didn't know it at the time because she didn't give me the letters until many years later.  Looking back on it now I know that my Mother didn't talk about my Father because she didn't want to keep reopening the wounds.  She knew I had guilt, but she had no idea the real reason or just how deep that guilt went.  In her mind I felt guilty for not going to visit him in the hospital on the day or two before he died.  I remember the moment so clearly.  I was 13 and my Mom comes barrelling into the apartment in a mad rush.  She was collecting items to bring to my Dad in the hospital.  I came out into the hall, the same hall where I came upon his twisted body just a few short days earlier.  She was rummaging through one of the two hall closets.  Closets in my house were never used for what they were intended for.  In fact, I didn't even know what a "linen closet" was until I was an adult.  The closets were jam packed with plastic bags filled with dirty clothes, shoes, odds and ends and just plain junk.  I only remember going into either of the closets maybe once or twice to look for my Mom's big red/brown leather boots with tassels that I liked to dress up in.  And even then, it was a 45 minute search to find the pair.  I always remember this day and think of how insane it was that she was trying to collect items from these closets.  The clothes in these bags were filthy, yet there she was pulling out crumbly, crinkly, old, dirty underwear to bring to the hospital for my father. She was obviously distraught, but when she saw me she stopped what she was doing and started talking to me tenderly.  

"Daddy was asking for his little girl.  He would love to see you, I'm going back to the hospital in a little while.  Do you want to come with me?"
I can't remember exactly what I said, if I made up some dumb, childish excuse or if I just flat out said no.  I remember that she was so loving and concerned about me.  She was supportive, not pushy, but I could also feel how much she wanted me to go.  
"That's ok, you can come with me tomorrow."
Tomorrow never came, and I think in her mind that is where my guilt stemmed.  

I never had a chance to talk to my mom about this or about the true feelings of guilt I had surrounding my Dad's death because I wouldn't process them until much later in life.  I often wonder what that would feel like to bare my soul to her and feel her arms embrace me.

Now, where was I? I got side tracked! Yes, Winter 1991/1992.  Just two short years later with an eternity in between.  I was 15, I had a boyfriend, I had my best friend, I had my freedom, it was a good year.  Justin and I lasted for a while after the crazy 6 weeks we spent playing house while he had mono.  We would take the city buses and visit each other and spend cold evenings on the phone talking for hours.  I had just discovered Faith No More, Nirvana and Pearl Jam that winter and would play that cassettes over and over and over.  I was in Monday night religion classes that my Aunt made sure I attended.   I met so many people that winter, made so many friends and have many, many memories from all of them.  I will be honest, most of the friends I made that winter were boys.  I was *kind of* boy crazy at this time.  I was getting attention, and for the first time it wasn't the bad kind.  I wasn't being pointed at because I was dirty and disheveled, I was being looked at because I was cute. It was quite the opposite of what I was used to and I was soaking it up! The more options I had in the neighborhood, the harder it was to keep interested in my boyfriend who was a 40 minute bus ride away.  I began to skip our evening phone calls and instead of getting on the bus I would walk around the neighborhood with my best friend, Marie.

It was one of these nights walking the neighborhood, up and down Woodhaven Blvd, bundled and huddled up with Marie that we came across a group of boys.  Oh, fun! I was getting bold by now.  Marie, not so much.  As soon as we saw the boys I could feel her attitude change.  She suggested we cross the street so we didn't have to walk through them.  That wouldn't be any fun! I convinced her to stand our ground and walk by and that I wouldn't make eye contact or say a thing to them.  Well, I didn't have to.  We walked past, but one, two, or all called after us.  Marie pulled my arm, but I couldn't help but stop and turn back.  There was a bunch of the usual:
"where you goin'" The boys would call out
"none of your business" I would say with a smile and a bat of my lashes.
I guess I got one of the boys' attention, because before we made it to the next corner he appeared next to us on his bike. He would tell me later that this was not the first time he had noticed me in the neighborhood.  We made our introductions, he told me his name was Adam.  He lived less than 10 blocks away, in the same neighborhood, but I had never seen him before. There was something about him that I  was drawn to immediately.  

I wish I remember exactly how it happened, who made the first phone call, when was the next time I would see him, but it's kind of a blur.  I know that I went home that night with butterflies in my stomach.  I remember seeing him on Jamaica Avenue one evening when I was at the laundromat doing my laundry.  He knew I was there, somehow, and he mozied right in and sat with me.  We talked and I laughed and then he would just disappear.  He was aware that I had a boyfriend and was respectful of that, but seemed too interested to let it go at that.  I began running into him more often, which led to more talking and lots more laughing.  We had the same taste in music, the same sarcastic sense of humor, and best of all we lived in the same neighborhood.  Adam gradually started to convince me that having a boyfriend so far away maybe wasn't ideal.  He made me a mix tape of songs that I must have played to the cassette tape shredded. The mix was gut wrenching, he found every song ever made that could possibly relate to us.  One song in particular really got into my head.  It was George Michael - Heal The Pain.  It was as if it was his heart speaking directly to mine.  With that song Adam won my heart.  (I am listening to this song now on YouTube and I am bawling my eyes out. Heal The Pain Video ) Heal the pain? I don't know if he realized how these lyrics went well beyond just the pain of a broken heart.  I had a broken soul.  I had a broken spirit.  This song. . . let's just leave it at this,  Adam was something special.  He made me feel like a princess just by the way he looked at me.  He listened to me in a way I had never been heard before.  He knew my heart.  It didn't take long after that for him to win me over, but that never stopped Adam from trying.  He was a true romantic.  I was still with Justin and was faced with my first love triangle.  I had no idea how to handle it.  I did not want to hurt Justin, and honestly I still cared for him so very much.  We shared something special, and I wasn't just going to drop him and run over to Team Adam.  It took me months (could've been weeks, which feels like months to a 15 year old!) to get through this awful transition, and I am sure if you asked either one of them they would say I was just stringing them both along.  That's not true though, I just could not make a decision that would end up hurting someone I cared about.  It was awful.  

January 19, 1992 was my 16th birthday. I spent the day at Marie's house watching TV and preparing dinner with her to celebrate.  I was sitting on her couch peeling potatoes into a garbage can, talking to her about how we could not believe I was 16 OH MY GAWD! I was daydreaming and sliced a piece of my finger off, I still have the scar to seal the memory.  We spent the day and evening together, watching music videos and being silly.  Later that evening I saw Adam.  He had bought me a dozen long stem white roses and a beautiful silver locket on a long chain.  When he gave me these gifts I was in utter awe.  I had never been given anything so extravagant. so romantic and so beautiful.  He was definitely making his case, and it was a damned good one!  A friend of mine ran into me on Jamaica Ave, saw the roses and locket and had a million questions! She snapped a photo of me and while the actual photo is who knows where, it is like it is a file I can pull up in my memory.  I see that photo in my head vividly.  My huge smile, my eyes full of wonder, hanging around my neck a silver locket and in my hands the most beautiful flowers I had ever seen

Edit: I messaged my friend who took that photo and asked if she still had it.  By some miracle, she DID....here it is: (side note, please remember this is 1992 here haha What was I wearing?!)

    

Within the next month I  ended my relationship with Justin.  And the chapter of Adam would begin.  Once it was officially over with Justin, Adam put forth his plan.  He didn't officially ask me out the minute I was broken up with Justin.  It was a couple of days at least.  The day he did finally ask me is a day I will never forget.  February 22, 1992.  Being this was Adam we are talking about, it wasn't just a simple "Hey, will you be my girlfriend", that would never do.  No, instead, he waited until 2:22 on 2/22 to ask me to be his girlfriend. Armed with a small square jewelry box, carrying a gold ring with 6 red garnets, formed into a crown.  Garnets are my birthstone.  Of course he would have THAT detail covered.   It was all just so perfect.  Too perfect.  How did I ever deserve this much thought, this much attention, this much adoration??  The best part was this wasn't just for show.  This was Adam, to his core.  There were no ulterior motives, just true romance and love. Puppy love still counts as love! 

We spent the rest of the winter getting to know each other more and spending every day together.  This meant having to meet his parents. EEK! The first time I had dinner at his house with his parents was completely surreal. I was so nervous walking up the 5 stairs that led to his front door. Little did I know then that I would end up spending so many days in this house, but at the time I was just wondering  how was it possible that I lived only 8 blocks from this gorgeous 2 story home?  Seems silly now, but I was so fascinated by how meticulously his house was decorated.  I felt like I walked on to a TV set.  It was the absolute opposite of my apartment in every sense.  From the cleanliness that my apartment was lacking to the amazing scent of a home cooked meal that filled the air, a meal cooked for ME! To say I was intimidated would be a drastic understatement.  His mother was sweet, but I could tell she was feeling me out.  His dad was busy cooking dinner and making small talk.   The dinner table was set and looked like a photo in a magazine.  I bet I looked like a deer in the headlights the entire night. I can't say what the dinner conversation was about or what kind of awkward impression I made,  but I can say that I was  invited back, so it must have been ok.  Not only did I come back, but this beautiful house quickly became my second home.  No, actually it was my first real "home", more of a home than I had ever known.  This is the home where, while I may not have lay my head down at night, I did lay the foundation for the woman I would ultimately become.  It became my safe haven and my sanctuary.  The table where we had our first of many "family" dinners became a poker table over the long hot summers. Where I sit next to Adam as he played cards with his group of neighborhood friends.  Over the winter, around that table we would thaw from the snow and ice outside, safe and warm with hot chocolate in hands.  During the school year I would sit at that table and help Adam with his homework assignments, typing his chicken scratch into a word processor.  His home quickly became my home and it remained that way for 3 years and 2 months.  In those 3 years I would accomplish so many things. It's no wonder to me now, since his was a house of comfort, love, encouragement and safety.  A place where I felt I belonged.  

By the time of our first dinner in February 1992 I had already quit high school.  I went through the motions occasionally, but I couldn't go back, it was too late.  Before long my issues at home and absence from school came to the surface. Yet, instead of making me feel bad about myself or my choices, Adam and his Mother encouraged me to get my GED.  Things with Adam and I were serious by now, we were set in stone (and cheesy, hot pink. mirrored double heart key chains) His Mom, Elvira couldn't just look the other way and certainly couldn't let me just sit at home all day when I should be in school.  She urged me to sign up for a GED test prep class, but not only that, she did all the research, helped sign me up and even drove me to the class on Tuesday nights. This was effort and follow through like I've never experienced.  How could I possibly reject her offer? I took a class or two to prep me and on the evenings where there wasn't a class I would study from this gigantic GED Prep workbook.  At least that's what Elvira thought. In reality, Adam and I would just hang out in his living room or dining room and pretend I was studying when Elvira peeked in.  Who was I kidding? Study? For a TEST? Let's get real, that wasn't how I rolled.  I had no flipping idea how to study and the thought of taking a test of any kind scared me so much that I just goofed off and avoided it.  During the few classes I took I would scribble and doodle, not paying attention, I was only there because it was the right thing to do.  I was totally blowing smoke and hoped that the whole thing would just be forgotten and go away, that's how things went in my house anyway.  Except, this was not my house, and Elvira was not my mother.  She followed through on promises.  She never stopped believing in me.  She didn't allow me to retreat and accept defeat.  This woman was flat out amazing, and oh man did she piss me off.  How dare she make me do this!!?? The more she believed in me, the more angry I got, the less I studied - that would show HER! Then the day came, the day I had been studying for for months (not!)....test day.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  What's scarier than opening  a book and studying things that seemed like they were written in Greek? Opening up a test booklet and realizing I'm pretty much screwed.  It was the middle of winter, but I sweat like a pig while taking that test.  I just wanted to get out of that building as fast as I could.  I finished the last question and walked out with my tail between my legs.  What a disaster.  I don't remember how long we had to wait for the test results because as soon as the test was over I deleted it from my mind.  I wanted to move on and not look back.  There, I took your stupid test, now can I just go back to .... whatever the heck it was I was doing? Then the day came, the envelope was in the mail, and if I remember correctly, I think it came to Adam's house.  GRRREAT, I can't even hide the damned thing!  We sat at that famous table and opened it up together.  There I am with a lump as big as a grapefruit in my throat.  This must be what it felt like to have a normal family and a Mother who actually held you accountable.  

<Shred> The envelope opens.
 <Wince> The mortified look on my face. 
 <Gulp> The sound of my nerves making their way down my throat, around that huge grapefruit.  I look down at my shoes in shame, waiting for the sigh of disappointment.  The moment when I have to face the consequences.  I felt like there was a red hot spotlight on my forehead.  
<Cheers> "I knew you could do it!! I'm so proud of you!!"
<Shock> Wait, what?!  I snatch the paper and have no idea what I am looking at.  Elvira shows me my scores.  Not only did I pass, I did amazing.  I knocked that test straight out of the park.

This is a huge moment for me.  I had never felt so proud in my entire life.  And it was all because of the love of a woman who was not even my own Mother.  My own Mother was a few blocks away, no idea of the accomplishment I just achieved, unable to see the look of sheer shock and pride on my face. This woman, who wasn't my Mother, taught me so many lessons that night.   I had been fighting tooth and nail for weeks, maybe months, all because I did not believe in myself.  I seriously thought I was stupid and that I could never pass.  Adam and Elvira never gave up on me through it all. They saw through all of my protective shields and knew I WAS smart and I could do this.  If it weren't for them, I would have quit after the first class and before I even got the study guide.  This would prove to be only be the tip of the iceberg, the first of many times I would be challenged and succeed.... all because some boy followed me down the boulevard on his bike, remained steadfast and loyal, fought for me and won my heart.