Post by Nacht der Tiger on Nov 19, 2004 0:09:29 GMT -5
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~ Orange, Texas, 1992 – 1995 ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~
A new town, a new school, and new friends. I was always the shy child so I wasn’t one to just go out there and say “Hey I’m Jessica I’m your new neighbor.” How many 6 year olds are… probably more than I think. In fact I was so shy that my father took my over to our neighbor’s house and introduced me to my soon to be best friend Sarah. Sarah was a year younger than me and was quite the little prissy girl now that I think back. She had to have her ego above everyone. She held herself above everyone. I didn’t let it get to me though. I was older and she was younger. She can think she’s all that, it’s her decision, it doesn’t bug me. Our new neighbors, Phil and Janis, were cool, but they weren’t as great as our neighbors in Stanton. Phil delivered papers and worked somewhere else. He kept two jobs to make ends meet. Janis was more of a stay at home type of person. They also had a son, Brett, he was a jerk to my older sister but he was nice to me. My sister was known as Cat Woman. He never failed to call her that. Our house wasn’t that big 4 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, the utility room, and the living and dining room… oh yeah... the kitchen too. I remember the outside the horrible yellow planks that were ugly. I couldn’t stand it. We just rented the house, my sister and I started out having to share a room until my ‘play room’ was transformed into my room. That was of course when I was comfortable with being by myself at night. I still clung to my sister though. She was always my best friend through everything she was there. She was my rock. I remember not long after we moved to Texas my great grandmother died and my mother flew back to California to attend her funeral. She wasn’t gone that long, but it seemed like forever.
Things were good for awhile, we were happy as a family. My dad would occasionally take my sister and I to his work at the Chevron Plastics plant on the outskirts of town. We would end up enjoying the plastic beads and would gladly have little wars of sorts. It was tradition with us while there. My mother, well my mother was ever the sick one. Most of my memories of her involve a hospital of some sort. Not the easiest way to be raised. Our neighbors were good to us though, they would take us in when Dad was out of town and Mom was in the hospital. My uncle’s occasionally came down from Washington to visit us and some friends came from California to visit, but no one else in the family. My grandparents wouldn’t come because of the incessant fleas that haunted our area and probably some reasons I don’t know about.
I remember my Mom was in the hospital this one time and my dad had been drinking a lot, to the point of passing out. My sister and I were still Lutheran and still adamant about our religion. So we grabbed one of our Bibles and prayed for him. It was more of a comfort for me to have my sister there; I didn’t really feel much comfort from the prayer as much as from my sister. I was really scared, Mom not home, father drunk. It’s not the ideal situation for a 7 year old girl. I don’t remember if my mother was in the hospital for another surgery of some sort or just because she was really sick again.
The one time I remember seeing my mother in the hospital was when she had her craniotomy or surgery on her brain. They found a pinched nerve or something and were trying to stop her migraines. The only thing it really stopped was the left eye tick. I remember waiting at the hospital all day while she was in surgery. In fact I remember seeing her wheeled towards the operating room with a part of her hair shaved off and clear so they could go in there and do their thing. I was terrified, so was my sister. My dad was just being strong for us, but I know he was just as scared as us. When we finally got to see her afterwards, it was hard. I was getting used to seeing her hooked up to IV's, but it never made it easy to see her like that. She was always so pale and sickly.
My father continued to drink a lot every time my mom was in or just got home from the hospital. When she was healthy I can remember going to my sister at night because my parents were having another fight. I also remember my sister telling them to shut up because they were scaring me. She always looked out for me. I don’t think she knows how much I appreciate that or how much I would love to be able to do the same for her. She was my rock while we were in Texas, she was the only stable one in our family, unless you count a 7, 8, 9 year old girl stable.
The only time my sister failed to be there was when I had my first, at least from what I can recall, breakdown and the first time I felt like I was nothing and I was trash and that I didn’t deserve to live. I remember my friend Sylvia’s older sister Yvonne came over to check on me when she saw me crying at the screen door. She was like an older sister to us, she was amazing. She helped me feel better and eventually got me to go outside and play.
We had a lot of good times while in Texas too. There were all the church events we went to, when I was still a Christian, and there were the holidays with friends, the trips with friends, and the vacations we went on. Things were good or at least they appeared to be. My dad’s moods became more erratic and he went from one extreme to the opposite. It was a hard life. Most of our money went to medical bills from my mother’s illnesses. Whatever didn’t go to medical bills was put to use on rent and utilities and food and gas. We had to live somehow. We only went shopping, like all out shopping for clothes and such right before each new school year. Only we would go shopping at Salvation Army or thrift stores sometimes even Goodwill. It was hard to make it through all of that. I was ashamed of it and in ways I still am. My friends always thought we had money when in truth we didn’t have a lot. That’s why to this day when someone asks me where I got my outfit because it’s cute I say ‘”I don’t know” or “I don’t remember”. I do know and I do remember, it’s just I’m ashamed in ways. People look down on you for things like that. It’s not something that’s easy to overcome, which is why I hid it from so many for so long.
After three years of living in Texas and having some good but mostly bad times, my dad had us pack our stuff and he drove us to Big Bear Lake, CA in the new van of ours and then he flew back to Texas. He must have sensed that something was going to happen and known that if something did happen, we would be stuck 1,600 miles away from the closest relatives that would take us in. So he left us there, with my grandparents from my mom’s side. It was only supposed to be temporary, but temporary ended up being a long time.
~~Part 2 at your fingertips.... happy stuff will be added after its done...
~Jessica Erin
A new town, a new school, and new friends. I was always the shy child so I wasn’t one to just go out there and say “Hey I’m Jessica I’m your new neighbor.” How many 6 year olds are… probably more than I think. In fact I was so shy that my father took my over to our neighbor’s house and introduced me to my soon to be best friend Sarah. Sarah was a year younger than me and was quite the little prissy girl now that I think back. She had to have her ego above everyone. She held herself above everyone. I didn’t let it get to me though. I was older and she was younger. She can think she’s all that, it’s her decision, it doesn’t bug me. Our new neighbors, Phil and Janis, were cool, but they weren’t as great as our neighbors in Stanton. Phil delivered papers and worked somewhere else. He kept two jobs to make ends meet. Janis was more of a stay at home type of person. They also had a son, Brett, he was a jerk to my older sister but he was nice to me. My sister was known as Cat Woman. He never failed to call her that. Our house wasn’t that big 4 bedrooms, 1 bathroom, the utility room, and the living and dining room… oh yeah... the kitchen too. I remember the outside the horrible yellow planks that were ugly. I couldn’t stand it. We just rented the house, my sister and I started out having to share a room until my ‘play room’ was transformed into my room. That was of course when I was comfortable with being by myself at night. I still clung to my sister though. She was always my best friend through everything she was there. She was my rock. I remember not long after we moved to Texas my great grandmother died and my mother flew back to California to attend her funeral. She wasn’t gone that long, but it seemed like forever.
Things were good for awhile, we were happy as a family. My dad would occasionally take my sister and I to his work at the Chevron Plastics plant on the outskirts of town. We would end up enjoying the plastic beads and would gladly have little wars of sorts. It was tradition with us while there. My mother, well my mother was ever the sick one. Most of my memories of her involve a hospital of some sort. Not the easiest way to be raised. Our neighbors were good to us though, they would take us in when Dad was out of town and Mom was in the hospital. My uncle’s occasionally came down from Washington to visit us and some friends came from California to visit, but no one else in the family. My grandparents wouldn’t come because of the incessant fleas that haunted our area and probably some reasons I don’t know about.
I remember my Mom was in the hospital this one time and my dad had been drinking a lot, to the point of passing out. My sister and I were still Lutheran and still adamant about our religion. So we grabbed one of our Bibles and prayed for him. It was more of a comfort for me to have my sister there; I didn’t really feel much comfort from the prayer as much as from my sister. I was really scared, Mom not home, father drunk. It’s not the ideal situation for a 7 year old girl. I don’t remember if my mother was in the hospital for another surgery of some sort or just because she was really sick again.
The one time I remember seeing my mother in the hospital was when she had her craniotomy or surgery on her brain. They found a pinched nerve or something and were trying to stop her migraines. The only thing it really stopped was the left eye tick. I remember waiting at the hospital all day while she was in surgery. In fact I remember seeing her wheeled towards the operating room with a part of her hair shaved off and clear so they could go in there and do their thing. I was terrified, so was my sister. My dad was just being strong for us, but I know he was just as scared as us. When we finally got to see her afterwards, it was hard. I was getting used to seeing her hooked up to IV's, but it never made it easy to see her like that. She was always so pale and sickly.
My father continued to drink a lot every time my mom was in or just got home from the hospital. When she was healthy I can remember going to my sister at night because my parents were having another fight. I also remember my sister telling them to shut up because they were scaring me. She always looked out for me. I don’t think she knows how much I appreciate that or how much I would love to be able to do the same for her. She was my rock while we were in Texas, she was the only stable one in our family, unless you count a 7, 8, 9 year old girl stable.
The only time my sister failed to be there was when I had my first, at least from what I can recall, breakdown and the first time I felt like I was nothing and I was trash and that I didn’t deserve to live. I remember my friend Sylvia’s older sister Yvonne came over to check on me when she saw me crying at the screen door. She was like an older sister to us, she was amazing. She helped me feel better and eventually got me to go outside and play.
We had a lot of good times while in Texas too. There were all the church events we went to, when I was still a Christian, and there were the holidays with friends, the trips with friends, and the vacations we went on. Things were good or at least they appeared to be. My dad’s moods became more erratic and he went from one extreme to the opposite. It was a hard life. Most of our money went to medical bills from my mother’s illnesses. Whatever didn’t go to medical bills was put to use on rent and utilities and food and gas. We had to live somehow. We only went shopping, like all out shopping for clothes and such right before each new school year. Only we would go shopping at Salvation Army or thrift stores sometimes even Goodwill. It was hard to make it through all of that. I was ashamed of it and in ways I still am. My friends always thought we had money when in truth we didn’t have a lot. That’s why to this day when someone asks me where I got my outfit because it’s cute I say ‘”I don’t know” or “I don’t remember”. I do know and I do remember, it’s just I’m ashamed in ways. People look down on you for things like that. It’s not something that’s easy to overcome, which is why I hid it from so many for so long.
After three years of living in Texas and having some good but mostly bad times, my dad had us pack our stuff and he drove us to Big Bear Lake, CA in the new van of ours and then he flew back to Texas. He must have sensed that something was going to happen and known that if something did happen, we would be stuck 1,600 miles away from the closest relatives that would take us in. So he left us there, with my grandparents from my mom’s side. It was only supposed to be temporary, but temporary ended up being a long time.
~~Part 2 at your fingertips.... happy stuff will be added after its done...
~Jessica Erin
