Spanglish

Memories of you, of what I once thought of you; make me nearly resentful.  In my adolescent mind you were a caring and compassionate person, the one that would always be there for me, and the one that would always make good out of a bad situation. But I now see things differently. You could say that I had ‘eye opening’ moment. One of those moments that someone might have while taking a walk with the intent to clear their mind and begin to become aware of little things that normally go left unnoticed; the chorus of leaves rustling along the sidewalk followed by a gust of wind capable clearing weightless clouds only to expose the empowering light and enriching warmth of the sun.  Although I had one of those ‘eye opening’, I wasn’t searching for it.  My moment felt more like a ‘slap in the face’.

The television lit the dark living room alternating the light from dim to bright.  My kids and I all huddled on the couch crunching on our popcorn and covered with blankets.  Everyone’s eyes fixed on the television watching the movie, “Spanglish” with one of our favorite actors, Adam Sandler.  I watched intently as the movie unfolded.  I couldn’t help but think, ‘how could this mother be so cruel’.  She surprised her daughter with a bunch of brand new clothes and the overwhelming excitement in her daughters face quickly diminished as she tried on each article of clothing, one after another, only to find that they all were all too small. Tears swelled in the daughters eyes as her mother said to her, ‘oh honey, don’t worry they’ll all fit fine, once you lose some weight’ then left the girl standing there with piles of brand new clothes that would never be worn on the bed next to her as the over flowing tears streamed down her face.  I couldn’t help myself thinking, I had just watch a memory from my childhood.  I was that little girl and that mother was my mother (and still is).

When I think back the most vivid memory I have that relates to the movie is when I was about 12 years old.  My parents just got home from a cruise trip that they took to the Bahamas’. My brothers, sister and I were overjoyed to have them home and eagerly waiting to hear about their trip.  My parents luggage, spread out on the couches in the living room as they began to unload each one.  The first suitcase that my mom unpacked contained various souvenirs from their trip.  My siblings and I shrieked with excitement as she handed each one of us shells and shirts.  I knew just by looking at it that it wouldn’t fit; my mom was convinced otherwise. Reluctantly I tried it on.  Just as I thought it was nearly skin tight.  My mom tugged on the shirt, “don’t worry honey, you’ll lose the weight and it will fit just fine”.  That line of hers echoed throughout the years.  At that time I interpreted this famous quote of hers as reassurance and encouragement.  But now I know better.  I see things very differently through adult eyes.

My mother has randomly made comments to me about how fat people are and if she notices that someone has gained weight.  I hear these comments that she so casually makes and although I know that she is not directing them to me (at that time) I just want to unravel on her.  I think how could she talk so negatively about these people and be so hurtful.  I’m sure that she says the exact same things about me to other people.  Once I overheard her talking on the phone, going on and on about how she gave her granddaughter some clothes and the clothes were too small.  Many times she still makes comments that I now see as degrading.  She still buys me clothes that are eventually returned to the store because they are too small and I’m not willing to keep them around till I lose the weight.  

As much as I try to just blow off her comments and protect my daughter my mom still strikes my nerves. I just have come to the conclusion that I will never meet up to her expectations and unless I lose the weight she will never truly be proud of who I am and my accomplishments.  I will forever be a fat disappointment in her eyes.

Gardening Therapy

            I believe in gardening.  There are many types of therapy in today’s society.  For me gardening is very therapeutic.  It is true; there is the dirt, bugs and weeds, but the fulfillment of being able to grow such beauty out of a tiny seed makes it all worth it.  Gardening gives me a sense of accomplishment and enjoyment.

            My family and I moved into a house that had previously been vacant for two years.  In the back yard there was a flower garden that bordered the entire length of the fence line.  Looking at this flower garden that had been dominantly taken over by weeds as tall as my hips, I thought, ‘I bet this use to be beautiful.  It’s going to take a lot of work, but I’ll make it beautiful again’.  I was determined to do just that.  Little did I know how therapeutic it would be.

            The next morning I loaded up the kids in the van and off to the garden center at Menards we went.  We each picked out a pair of gardening gloves and gardening tools.  We admired the beautiful plants and the vibrant colors of the flowers.  My youngest begged to be held up so she could take in the fragrance of each flower!  Proudly I picked her up for every single flower out of her reach that we had past.  Eager to get started, we made our way to the register with garden gloves and tools in our hands.  When we got home we all corralled around the mound of weeds that we were about to conquer.  The energy and excitement to get started quickly diminished and was overwhelmed by the hard work that it took to pull all of the weeds; one after another, after another, after another.  Before long I realized it was wishful thinking that the kids would pull weeds with me.  They made their way to the swing set and played.  I didn’t mind; they were having fun and being good.

            Oddly enough I found it to be relaxing.  Pulling weeds, getting dirty, and letting my mind wonder on anything that it happens to land on and think.  Thinking of nothing in particular and overwhelmed by not the day’s hurries but the calmness of the garden.  I worked in the garden, pulling those weeds, from one end to the other end.  Many days I was so absorbed with working in the garden that I would lose track of time and before long I’d find myself in the dark. 

            Gardening gave me a feeling of pride, accomplishment, enjoyment, and confidence.  I am not typically proud of my accomplishments, but when it came to my garden I felt such great pride and had such enjoyment just by admiring my hard work that I had put into the garden.  Pulling those weeds out of my garden was like pulling the stress out of my life!  I can honestly say that gardening made me a happier person! 

From the Outside

She’s a quiet, sweet girl, I think you’ll like her; most people do.  She doesn't catch on very quickly but once she does she’ll do alright.  She has a nice family; they have some problems (but what family doesn't).  She likes to be helpful and learned a lot by watching her dad.  She loves animals and playing with her sister.

She is growing up and is getting use to her big sister avoiding her. That’s okay though, she found that exploring the woods with her brother was a lot more interesting. She has become very interested in discovering rocks and searching though abandoned houses. Someday she always thought that she would travel Egypt and work as an archaeologist.

She is coming to realize that life is not all peaches and cream.  She hides in the closet with her youngest brother.  The house is being destroyed around her. She says to her little brother, ‘Please don’t every be like him’.  She tries to shield him from the way it wasn't meant to be.  She wishes her other brother wasn't a ticking time bomb and would like to understand why.  She’s become accustom to the police being called a few times a week by now.

She doesn't seem to care anymore. She doesn't try in school and will be lucky if she passes her classes at all.  She struggles in school so she figures, ‘why even bother’.  She hardly ever spends time at home.  She has become disrespectful and started lying to her parents.  She has a boyfriend; a few by now. There’s one that she’s particularly fond of and is experimenting with sex and drugs with him.

Her dad is really sick; it’s cancer.  It seems like her family is trying to be better at being a family.  But trying only lasts for so-long.  Her brother is in and out of juvy all the time.  Her other brother has become an expert at being invisible.  Her sister is just there when she doesn't have anything better to do.  Her mom is always sleeping and she…… well she’s too busy getting high.

She is really excited.  She actually graduated High School. She and her boyfriend are getting their first place together.  It’s a good thing too.  Because, SURPRISE She’s Pregnant.  She’s a good momma and does everything right. It’s no longer about having fun and being careless; it’s about the baby.  She is becoming more and more excited about being a mommy.  Her dad is really excited about the baby too.

Her baby is born and two and a half months later her dad died. She became pregnant again when her first baby was only 9 months old.  Her mother moved away with her youngest brother.  Nobody really talks much.  Her other brother continues to be in and out of jail often.  She seems to be turning her life around.  She cares a lot about her babies.  Her boyfriend proposed, finally!

At 24 years old she and her boy-friend got married. They struggle but they somehow manage. Relations amongst her family have been on the mend for awhile now.  She likes having a relationship with her mom, sister, and brothers. She had become content with life and it is pleasantly uneventful. 

She and her husband decide to have another baby; this time planned.  She is loving life and enjoying being a wife and watching her kids grow and develop into the little people that they are today. Her life by no means is perfect.  She lost her youngest brother just a short time ago.  She struggles with all the questions that surround his death.  She will be fine.  She always is.

She is a wife, a mother, a sister, a friend.  She is Tanya Therese Clark.

Roller Coaster

As expected, coming up with the title to this blog took a significant amount of time. Once I finally came up with my title I thought, ‘For the Love of the Roller Coaster Life’ fits well, not only for me but most everyone. 

Like many others I feel my life has been one giant roller coaster. Recently, I've felt like this roller coaster I’m on has derailed, launched through the air, plummeted into the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. My whole world, everything that has ever had any significance to me suddenly meant nothing. Total emptiness surrounded me; inside and out. 

On the morning of November 3, I was woken up to a nightmare at 3:20am, by my husband telling me, "Jonny is dead." I was unable to comprehend what he was trying to tell me at first. I found myself trying to debate with my husband that this can't be true, he can't be gone. It's impossible. I was in such horrific disbelief that my baby brother could be gone. I became numb to any and everything but the knot in the back of my throat and saddened emptiness that swelled within me. So many questions revolved in my head. I couldn’t help but think, ‘this can’t be true’, and ‘this isn’t happening’. 

So often I’ve thought and still think; ‘if I only would’ve been there’, ‘I should’ve called him’, ‘why didn’t he try to contact me’. But how was I to know, I doubt that he even knew the conclusion of that fatal night. I talked to him just 3 days earlier, he seemed to be fine.  There was no indication that anything was wrong. 

This internal battle of would’ve, should’ve, if I only… still continues and will likely for quite some time. Trying to make sense of this seems nearly impossible and pointless.  As much as I want to believe that this is all a nightmare and eventually I’ll wake up and Jonny will be over enjoying a meal with me and my family, I know that will never again be the case. 

 There’s a saying that many think is comforting, “Time heals all wounds”.  As thoughtful as it is for people to hear say this, it’s still hard to conceive, but I also have lost too many people to know that it’s not true.  One thing that I do find comforting at this time is doing what I can to keep the fond memories of Jonny alive.