After my mom died, I was forced to go live with my disinterested dad and vindictive step-mother in their one hundred year old house, originally built for railroad workers. The one and half bedroom arrangement meant I was in the half, a converted front porch, winterized and divided from the living room only by a by-fold wall and door.
At fourteen, a new freshman at an inner-city high school, I knew I had only myself to rely on. Graduation and getting a career to support myself was crucial. My choices for studying were either upstairs in my half room or the basement. Trying to concentrate over the TV blaring as a mix of cigarette smoke and Hamburger Helper filled the air was impossible.
The basement was my only option. The musty smell of the frequent flooding made it almost unbearable, almost. I found an old area rug, a card table, and a beat up lamp. Cinder block walls, cold cement floors, and only the washer and dryer to keep me company, I curled my stocking feet up under me as I sat on the folding chair. The exposed rusty pipes creaked as I wrestled with algebraic equations.
That is where I spent almost every school night and even some Sundays, bundled up in a sweatshirt, studying.
* * *
This snippet of memoir was inspired by the above image, the prompt at Magpie Tales.
31 comments:
Thank you for the snippet. :o)
While this is an incredible shot - I hate that you had to grow up in that environment.
G'eve CM ~ I am sad that you grew up so alone ... I'd love to share with you a hug, so consider this a ~ HUG ~ .
And, despite sad, look at the incentive you had, to accomplish much, move forward & have a beautiful life, husband & 2 adorable sons. Sometimes these situations make us so strong to forge ahead ... which is good in the long run.
Have a wonderful summer weekend!
TTFN ~ Hugs & love sweetie, Marydon
nice. i think we all had those places to escape to...once i got to HS i moved my room to the basement actually which was really nice and quiet...or at least they thought so...smiles. nice mag!
You are stronger at your broken places and you are fine writer. Make sure you always write in this voice. It's authentic. And I am not just one of those people who makes nice comments. Go, ask anyone. I hardly ever comment.
@ Everyone
Thank you for your kind comments. I felt encouraged to write my story after how supportive everyone was on my post a few days ago.
Overcoming hurdles has made you a strong, capable person! Nice writing.
So tough for a young girl, but the experience made the young girl strong. You have turned out to be a wonderful woman who is devoted to her husband, children, and her job. I count it a privilege to know you.
Great writing, BTW.
T
You write beautifully. The snippet of your memoir seemed like it must have been intense to compose.
Not very conducive for learning. But you certainly adapted well, and look at you now. I bet you really appreciate things more because of it.
thanks for sharing this snippet of your childhood with us - reminded me a bit of my own...my brother's and my room was only a door away from the living room, filled with cigarette smoke and parents that were watching tv and having endless loud quarrels - so i was lying in bed, couldn't sleep and had to get up for school the next day...not a nice time to think back
What a great post and sad story. You are a very talented writer! wow!!
There is a great deal of strength and determination coming through your words. I do not think you let obstacles deter you from what you want. That kind of inner strength is precious and beautiful. hang on to it!
All things happen for a reason, right?! I bet you wouldn't be the person you are today without going through all that, though I am sorry you had to. But I bet you are a strong woman.
I love that you just took it upon yourself to make something for yourself. So many people would just sit there and wait for something to be done for them or given to them.
Now I am not dogging programs, there is a real need for them. I am talking about the abuse of those programs and people just waiting for things to be given to them instead f going and getting them themselves.
a lesson to all us --focus,persevere and success will be the result--look at how blessed you are today...that is in large part to your hard work--well done! cm :-)
ps. lilacs are one of my favorite flowers...their scent is intoxicating
I'd certainly like to hear more of your off-beat story..brave heart..
from the look of things, sounds like you pulled through, though what you described sure sounded miserable. Thanks for sharing a part of yourself. . . sometimes knowing other people made it helps other do the same.
Wow. Just that small snippet made me want to read more of your memoirs. All these things that shaped you and made you who you are today...
I loved this! Very vivid imagery.
Cool picture. And the words just go so beautifully. Though they ache with a terrible kind of loveliness.
In reading this, I hurt for you. Thank you for sharing this memory, and for sharing it in such a well-written way. It makes me think of the ways I failed as a parent (not the same ways that your parents failed), and makes me wonder whether your father and stepmother ever realized that they had made life so difficult for you. Maybe you've already covered that in earlier posts.
great photo and post about what was surely a difficult time to live, and even relieve as you wrote them. Your words tell of your courage!
I always took refuge in that comforting hum of the dryer. Still do.
And now look at you, a strong loving hardworking mom and wife-I am so glad you didnt let those things in life bring you down!
That was very sad, but obviously you came out of it okay!
Incredible expression of a sanctuary. Great writing, thanks for this.
Wow I want to read more. You really should write your story. And as others said, I am so sorry for what you went through and I don't even know half of it
Sad start, but you've come so far -- that's the wonderful part!
What a relief, to read an actual story instead of the blather of unrelated "poetry" attempting to "glamorize the unglamorous"!!
Call me uneducated (or unsophisticated) the world of poetry and prose is concerned, but I relished reading your "snippet".
Doesn't sound like a happy life, but you seem to have made the best of a bad situation. Thanks for sharing this.
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