I never really understood the dynamics of my mother and folks around her. She always seem so free and like she knew the secrets of life. Always smiling and joking around. Everyone around her loved her, even today. My mother has a way of speaking that makes you want to know her story a little further. You want to get to know what in life she had to experience in order for her to be so wise. She's always been the happiest woman I know. Everywhere she goes its a guaranteed fun time. Yet with all of her wonderful attributes, she's never been the type to get along with someone for too long.
We lived at Padrino Pablito for a couple of years. I recall getting lectures from him about boys and not having them touch me. He would say, "No dejes que ningun hombre te manucee", which roughly translates into "Don't ever let any man put his hands all over you". I laugh now, considering I was only 6. But in retrospect, he was making sure I knew what was right and wrong. I had to prepare myself for the hardships of being a young lady.
I was always very close to Padrino Pablito. He was like a second father to me, my grandfather being my first dad. I can honestly say, he was more of a man than any heterosexual man I've ever met. He always defended my mother from her siblings. Particularly those who thought she was worshiping the devil since she was living in the house of a Santero. I remember him confronting one of my uncles who came with the intent of taking my mom back home by force. Hand on his hip, red as a tomato and with a very firm and feminine voice he told my uncle, "Vete pal' carajo, de aqui nadie saca a mi ahijada cabron". Maybe it was Padrino Pablitos 6 foot stature or maybe it was the look in his eyes, but my uncle left that house and never came back.
It was time later when my mom decided to move to her own apartment. It was a small place. I recall sleeping with my mom because there was only one bedroom. Of course I didn't mind, I think I never slept alone for most of my childhood. My mom and I always shared a bed.
But now that we lived on our own, I was more alone than ever. My mother being a single mother couldn't stop working. And taking me to my grandmother's was definitely not an option after what she discovered my abuse. So, she would instruct me what to eat when I arrived home from school. Asked that I not open the door to anyone and made sure that she called at almost every hour. I think this is why I've become such an independent person. Almost to a fault. It took many years for me to feel okay in asking anyone for help. This cycle went on for some time. There were weekends I stayed with my mother's friends because she had to work. I never felt comfortable at any one's house when my mother wasn't around. I was always treated differently as soon as my mom left. Even her friends treated me as if I was a pest. At times I overheard them speak about how my mom was irresponsible and that I was a bastard. So I would go to a corner and play with the toys my mother left me and wished that she would just hurry up and get me. I would get in trouble for not wanting to play with her friends kids. Those kids were bad, they would pull my hair and hit me. Take my barbies and rip the heads off.
I remember one time, I had a fight with my baby-sitter's daughter. The girl ended up telling her mother that I hit her, so I ended up punished. When the mother asked what happened, I told her that I didn't do anything. So she slapped me and called me a liar. She blamed my mother for being so lenient with me and that's why I was such a liar.
My mother arrived early Sunday morning to see my face completely red from being slapped. She looked at her friend and slapped her out of the blue and without warning. Then she asked, how did it feel. She went on to say other vulgarities about me coming out of her (you know what) and that no one needed to touch me but her. I never stayed at that house again.
Soon there after we were back at Padrino Pablito's house..thank God!
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