EDGEWATER -- There comes a moment or sets of moments when we wonder if it was all for naught. Was all my patient plea and serious consequences go in one ear and come out the next.
I can only give you a story to ease your troubled mind. I was 19 years old when I set out to see Europe. I was bound to study abroad to practice my eight years of Spanish. When lo and behold I changed my mind at the last minute, I checked London, England.
When I broke the news to my mom she was confused because of how much I had desperately wanted to go to Spain and experience Castilian Spanish first hand.
She didn’t know what to say. Another decision made by me with no consultation from her. I’m sure she was asking “where did I go wrong?” To answer that question, she was right on point. She had made into an independent decision-making phenom.
What she did not know is that I did weigh all my options. I did make the decisions based on specific thoughts of actions. Therefore, I was set and ready to go.
No butterflies or anything.
However, the story began there. For the squeamish who do not believe in corporal punishment you might want to turn away now. As luck would have it, two weeks before I was to leave to go on my 4 month party study trip, my friends invited me to the party of a century. I am 19 with no worries; about to party for the last time with my peers here in the States before heading off to party study with a whole new crew on the other side of the Atlantic.
It began calm and uneventful. Me: Mom, I washed all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. I am headed to my friend, April’s house (names have been changed to save the innocent). MOM: No, I would prefer that you stay here and not go tonight (I cleaned it up a bit) I was thinking, I am 19 years old. Gone since 17 (in college) and paid my own bills (sort of) for 2 years already: She must be trippin’.
Me: (quite pleasant. We grew up where talking back and raising voices was not even heard of) Well, they are throwing a party for me before I leave and I wanted to go. They are coming to get me. Mom: I don’t care who is coming to get you, I know you want to go but I already said you are not going.
Ha ha, silly her. If only she knew I had the power to reject her words and will for me…haha hahaha Me: Really, I’m getting dressed. I’m leaving in a few minutes. Mom: What was that? Did you just say you was going somewhere?
Me: (still quite pleasant and yet defiant)Yes, I did. I’m 19 years old. I just washed the dishes and I want to go. They are coming to get me and I am going in a few minutes. This is where it gets good. Picture now a 3 story home. I am located on the second story landing where the stairs are located in the middle of the home.
On one side of the stairs is the kitchen and dining area with an opening in the Kitchen, opening in the Dining area that leads to the living room that is the other side of the stairs. The kitchen and dining area is separated by a half wall with an opening. I was in the living room area headed for the stairs. She was in the dining room area head for the kitchen.
We were almost completing a circle. When those words came out of my mouth, I hate to swear, but believe you me she took two steps, I heard them, and smacked me right in the mouth. Mom: who do you think you are talking to? This is still my house. And you are not going. Always running your mouth and talking back.
Oh I forgot to mention, she hit me with every syllable. For all my old school readers, you understand exactly what that was like…who-do-you-think-you-are-this –is-still-my-house…etc etc go-ing was too blows. Pissed was an understatement.
Defiant was more an appropriate term. Not one tear fell I was so pissed. Me: (shielding myself) do you think hitting me is not going to make me not go. I pulled away and ran up the steps. Packed the remainder of my belongings and was headed for the top of the third floor landing. No words were said from me.
Now I was crying because of sheer anger and hatred seething in my heart. As I got to the top of the landing, there she was looking up. Mom: You so big and bad. You so grown that I can’t tell you what to do.
Then you leave my ticket (the one for London, England) and everything else that I bought you. I was so pissed I could care less. I stripped down to my bra and underwear. Why was I naked? because she was so proud of me for taking such a large step and getting a full scholarship to go, she took me shopping and bought me everything new?
All my clothes I bought were in storage in Cortland, NY, 223 miles away. She even bought me new socks. The plot thickens: Butt naked, angry, and crying, I went to take a step to never come back to this ungrateful, mean, uncaring, unfeeling, hateful, unlovable, no understanding, woman’s house In her most quiet voice, she saiid. Before I tell you what she said, understand my mother never speaks with a quiet voice. If you have ever met me, my laughter only reveals that strong voice my mom has when giving instructions.
Her quiet voice meant utter destruction on the part of who it was directed towards. I have only seen it two times in my life and the end thereof was not politically correct. Mom: (in her quietest voice) If you take one more step, I will kill you where you stand! (Blank stare) “Oh (expletive)!” was my response. I kindly took my step towards my room (yes, she still kept my room the same as if I had never left) and did not talk to her for two weeks.
Not only that. On the ride to the airport, I sat in the back of the car and looked out the window the whole time (longest 25 minutes to Newark, NJ). I got out of the car. I got my bags. I did not even give her a hug goodbye.
I left for London, England without saying a word. With this thought, how dare she? I hate her. Wow! What an end? How many believe I was justified?
How many believe she showed unconditional love and authoritative discipline? How many of you would have called DCF? How many of you would have licked my wounds and sided with me? How many of you sided with my mother?
Well let’s fast forward a couple of years. Now I was sane and had a child of my own. I finally confronted her about her strong determination to not let me go out to my own party and her harshness that night.
She stated she had a vision (for all of the nonbelievers in visions, she had a really bad feeling and saw it flash before her eyes) that I would die that night. The story goes. I was sitting in my usual hang out spot when I would go to those kinds of parties and they were shooting. As brazen as I was, I would not have moved (lived with guns firing everywhere, normal activity for me).
She saw me get shot in the heart and die instantly on the spot. That night there was a shooting. My friend Michelle (names changed to save the innocent) sat where I sat. She heard the gun shot. She got up to run. She got shot in her lower spinal column.
She is paralyzed from the waist down to this day. Because I would not have moved the bullet would have pierced my heart. Obedience is better than sacrifice. For those who wanted to lick my wounds or call DCF, my heart goes out to you.
Your teens must have been or is currently hell on you. Your word should and must be the final word. Your teens don’t know. I was 19.
Do whatever it takes to protect and secure the ones you love. Yes, unconditional love and authoritative discipline does work. It saved my life.
By the way, during our conversation years later she said, if I would have told you what I saw and how I felt, would you have listened? My answer was a sorrowful, no.