Musings

As I was cleaning today several things ran through my head. I finally decided to actually "listen" to what was rambling around and I had to laugh. I realized that these things I used to pity myself for actually have been the small stones used to rebuild the foundation to the new me. Oh sure I've got a LONG way to go but it's nice to see that there's progress among the chaos.

Someone said I should be proud that I made it "out of the neighborhood I grew up in". What a strange thing to say. Then I remembered how many of the boys died before making it to 18. And so they won't be forgotten (and my ego won't use them to play with my head):

• Rico - New neighbor who would occasionally wave in passing. I was just arriving at a party with my friend when he saw me arrive. He grabbed me by the elbow and told me to go home because most people there were gang members. He said it was no place for me and drove me home. He was shot and killed a week later.
• Lucky - Never knew his real name. He was 14 when I was 16 and would sit on my front stairs with me at night to talk. He wanted me to tell him stories about downtown Chicago and trips I'd taken. He'd never been out of the neighborhood. He lived with his brother who was a gang member. I told him he could travel and be anything he wanted when he got older. He turned, looked at me and said he'd never get out. He kissed me on the forehead and left. He was killed a few weeks later.
• Then there are the two classmates with the same story. Never made it out of the neighborhood.
• There are the girls who came to ask me to join the girl gang. I looked behind them at the strollers of babies and the old look in their 16 yr old eyes. I said thanks but I didn't really want to.
• My heart goes out for them all; but it's their stories that sparked my drive to leave the neighborhood. Thank you.

There are crossroads in life. One choice sets the journey's tone. One such time was the boyfriend who slapped me. As I cried and he hugged me in apology it occurred to me that this seemed familiar. I had a choice - follow a familiar path or stand up for myself. I was 16, smaller, stupid, and decided I couldn't hurt him but I could go after his true love. I'm embarrassed to say I kicked his motorcycle over and as he bent down to pick up the broken mirror I ran as fast as I could. I could hear him catching up and swearing to high heaven. I locked the door just as he started banging on the door. I won, we broke up, and I created my own path.

There's always another opportunity. Nothing is finite - even though it may seem that way at the time. What's that saying...when one door closes another opens? I never knew what that meant. All I saw were a bunch of closing doors leaving me in the darkness. But as I look back I realize I was walking past the open doors with my eyes closed; thus the darkness. One such instance is when I had my hysterectomy six yrs ago. I was devastated. I had one beautiful son. I wanted a large family but I couldn't. I wanted him to have siblings so he wouldn't be as lonely as I was growing up. I have 2 brothers and 2 sisters but I'm 12 yrs apart from them. I was lonely. I wanted family dinners around a table and talking and laughter. Then I got remarried a year ago and gained two stepsons and a grand daughter. Gramma Elena they call me. Yikes! And my son's dad remarried and had a son. My son has a brother. We have family dinners. Cool.

I dwelled so much on my weaknesses that I never saw my achievements. Good thing I've recorded them here so they're not forgotten. Building blocks....