The story of my life so far
The ticking of the clock and the soft snuffles of my newborn grandson
were the only sounds in the room. I couldn't believe I had just helped
the midwife deliver him. I looked from his dark blue eyes into my
daughter's bright green ones. We smiled at each other with that smile
one mother gives to another. It was hard to believe my child was now a
mother herself. She looked so calm lying there, a little wrecked but
contented.
Looking at her I felt so proud and a little sad all at the same time.
Proud because she had just given birth to this beautiful baby boy and I
knew she would be a great mother to him. But in the corner of my heart
next to that pride was a little pocket of sadness.
I knew that even though she would embrace this new chapter of her
life, another part was going to be lost. This made me feel sad. I wished
that she had more time to explore being a young single woman. To travel
and live a different kind of life than the one she was now going to
have to live. But sometimes you just can't fight fate and here we all
were starting a new generation of our family.
At fifteen I was full of life and trying to live it in a hurry. I was
always looking for that something else. I didn't know what that was but
I was convinced I wouldn't ever find it in school. I don't know why I
thought this because school for me hadn't been a bad experience. It did
have some good times. I just always felt that by being in school I was
missing out on something exciting happening in the outside world. School
work didn't hold any interest for me and this made me switch off a lot
of the time. English and PE were the only subjects I liked but even
these were not enough to keep me there. I felt I had to get out. I
couldn't waste any more time sitting in a classroom.
I had a part time job in our local grocery shop and when I was been
offered more hours this was enough to cement my decision to leave
school. When I asked my parents if I could leave school, they said no.
They were angry with me for even asking. Mam tried to talk me round and
Dad backed her up, no matter what she said. After much arguing and some
pleading they realised I had my mind set on leaving and that was that. I
was very excited about my decision but my parents were not, but I think
they thought it was better to be out earning a living then at school
not learning.
Stacking shelves was not a very exciting job. But when I put on that
apron and stood looking at myself in the shop window I felt very grown
up. I had finally grown in to my boobs and with my long mousey brown
hair down I thought I looked much older than my fifteen and a half
years. Shop work was better than school work. It is only as look back
now I see I was too young to realise they were both the same. Work was
work whether in school or in a job.
My shelf stacking was soon changed for a counter job in the chippers
with higher wages and this was great for me. I could now buy new
clothes, new makeup, and get my hair done more often. As boys were now a
new exciting thing in my life I needed to look prettier. It was an
enjoyable experience working in the chippers, although the smell of
grease on my clothes and hair was not. The late night life coming in to
the takeaway made me feel like I really was part of the grown up world.
I made lots of friends through this job and when some of them got
places on an ANCO course (now known as FÁS) I decided get a place on it
too. I wanted to be a part of something, I didn't want to be left
behind. We were going to be paid to take part in the training. The
course was great, there were a lot of young people on it - many of them
early school leavers like myself.
I made some good friends and some close friends and this is where I
met Jake. We clicked instantly. He was not actually on the course but
had come up to visit his friend Tom. When I saw him it was like being
struck by lightning. I was all loved up.
Jake had the whole bad boy thing going on, the long hair, the
earring, the Doc Martins and the skinny jeans. He was my moody rebel. We
were inseparable, unless we were fighting which we did a lot of. Jake
gave me his Lebanon scarf which travelled back and forth between us,
depending on whether we were on or off. That scarf travelled miles
without ever leaving the country.
My parents didn't share my love of Jake, but I just thought they were
just trying to ruin my life. I felt like they didn't want me to be
happy. I was angry with them and the more they tried to part us the
stronger my love for him became. I broke their hearts.
Jake and I existed in our own little bubble a lot of the time. In my
head it was like a Mills & Boon love story. Then the Mills &
Boon story hit a bump, Jake dropped a bomb shell - he was going to
England with his friend Tom. I couldn't let him go, I had pushed my
family and most of my friends away, he was the centre of my world. If he
was going then I was going too.
Tom's girlfriend said she was going too so I took this as a sign we
should go on this adventure. I had it all planned out in my head - we
would go together and Jake and I would set up home and live happily ever
after. The idea was set and there was no turning back.
For two days before we left I gave most of my time trying to decide
what to bring with me. God looking back now I was so immature, all I
could focus on was what clothes and makeup would I bring? How many pairs
of shoes could I fit in to my bag? Sometimes I could barely hold in the
excitement. I was nearly bursting at the seams to tell someone my news.
I stashed my bag in the hedge at the end of our road; I didn't want
anyone to find it in the house. Sneaking down the road that night to
hide it I was terrified someone would see me, and want to know what I
was up to. Later that night lying in bed there were a million thoughts
running through my head. Most of them were silly ones, like would I wear
my jeans or skirt tomorrow? Would Tom's girlfriend bring her own makeup
- she wasn't borrowing mine? Had I put my good knickers in my bag? I
could hardly sleep with the excitement bubbling around inside me. There
was fear too – would my mother hear I was planning to run away? My
biggest fear, I think, was that someone would discover my bag hidden in
the hedge and steal it. This, more than anything, kept me awake most of
the night.
The much worried about bag now safely in my hand, I stood on the
station platform nervously waiting for the train. I was hopping from one
foot to another and was killed looking over my shoulder. I kept
thinking my mother was going to appear at any minute. This fear had my
stomach in knots. Jake, Tom and his girlfriend were making a laugh of
me. I tried not to show how much fear I felt but it was hard. All I
wanted to do was throw up.
The train journey was not too long thank god and the boat journey was
smooth. But all through it I kept looking over my shoulder for my
mother.
Arriving in Euston station was a bit of an anti-climax. The
excitement, the fear and the journey all caught up with me and I burst
in to tears. All I wanted to do was turn around and go back home again.
This was all too much. Tom's girlfriend put her arms around me and told
me everything was going to be okay. While I dried my tears and felt very
stupid, the fellas went to get us something to eat. We sat and ate our
food. Jake and Tom got some change for the phone and made contact with
their friend whose place we were going to stay in.
Sitting there watching all the hustle and bustle I was saying to
myself "Dorothy you're not in Kanas any more". It took me a while to
take it all in. Everyone was moving and they seemed to be in a big
hurry. Nobody even took the time to say hello. I felt very alone sitting
there, like I was invisible. I was hoping my happy ever after was going
to get better than this.
The bedsit we were all going to share with Tom's friend was only the
size of my box room at home, It smelled like stale beer and dirty socks.
It was awful. I wasn't very happy there, I hated it. The room was in a
big house where we shared the kitchen and bathroom with four other
couples. I hated going to the bathroom, I never felt safe. The lock on
the door was only a small latch and when someone came up to try the door
it always seemed like it would give way.
The adventure didn't make me feel so excited any longer, just anxious
and scared a lot of the time. But, me being me, I would never admit to
that.
We eventually got our own bedsit, just Jake and me. Then it began to
feel like it used to be. I spent all my time tidying up our room even
though it never got untidy it was so small. Shopping for little bits and
pieces and food were great fun. We shared the house with three other
couples one of which was an old indian gay couple. This was my first
time to ever see a real life gay couple. They didn't talk much but
smiled at me every time I went to the kitchen to cook. It kind of
creeped me out a little.
Domestic bliss reigned for a while then reailty caught up with us. My
Mother had found us. Thank God it wasn't her in person who tur |
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发表于 2013-2-24 11:21:46
