“Dum Spiro Spero”: While I Breathe, I Hope.

Have I told you that my mother was strict? Order was not optional. If you disobeyed the consequences were dire. I remember learning the word “shit”. I was playing in the living room and my block tower fell down. I said the word. My Mothers head perked up. She didn’t say a word. She grabbed me by my hair and picked me up out of the floor, practically dragged me to the bathroom, took liquid dial and jammed her fingers into my mouth. She scrubbed that dirty word right out.

This was the norm for verbal disobedience or “back talk”. We were routinely spanked. I remember walking into BiLo to get groceries and the magazine rack was right inside the front door. At 5 years old the silly books caught my eye and I walked to them. I didn’t hear her tell me no. The next thing I know I am bare butt in the doorway of the store getting worn out. I didn’t cry because I wasn’t allowed to. If I cried and drew attention, I’d get it worse later.

My siblings and I learned to conceal emotions and to push it down pretty effectively. This isn’t even the tip of this ice berg. I’ll get more into that later as well.