Tag Archives: my stolen diaries

My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 15: Roberto, Roberto, Roberto

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CHAPTER 15

ROBERTO, ROBERTO, ROBERTO

June 1964

Since Roberto doesn’t know I exist, I almost never look out the window when he picks up Mom because I don’t want to ruin her chances with him, even though I wish she would choose Nick.

She keeps telling Mem and Mere Germaine that she loves Roberto, but their answer to her is that it would be better if she finds a guy who loves her more than she loves him. It sounds to me like Mem and Mere Germaine both think that Roberto might not love her as much as Nick does.

I’m not sure Roberto even likes her. Mom is always coming into the apartment after their dates crying, and Mem always tries to calm her down.

If Mem is asleep when Mom comes home from her stupid dates with Roberto, she sits at the kitchen table in the dark for hours, smoking cigarettes. Mom never comes home crying or upset when she goes out with Nick.

Mem keeps saying that just because Roberto is rich and lives in some fancy town called Westport doesn’t mean he can treat Mom like she’s lower than him. Mere Germaine keeps telling Mom that with her beauty, she can get any man she wants.

“You look out that window when Roberto drops me off, and I’ll kill you,” Mom always says, so I’ve been careful about when and how I look.

Since Roberto always makes Mom cry, I wish I could get up the courage to stick my head out the window and show him once and for all that Mom has a kid, but I don’t dare. Not yet, anyway.

And I still can’t figure out why Mom doesn’t love Nick. Why does she waste her time with Roberto when Nick adores her? Plus, Nick knows I exist, and he’s okay with it. More than okay with it. He told me he loves me!

I sort of understand why Mem and Mom needed to lie to St. Ambrose about me being Mem’s daughter, but at least at school and church, Tony is a human being who belongs to somebody.

Roberto thinks it’s Mem, Mom, and Mere Germaine. That’s it. No Tony at all because he has no idea that Tony exists. Why can’t Mom tell him about me? Why would a mother lie about being a mother to the man she loves and who supposedly loves her?

Mem told Mere Germaine that Mom hiding me from Roberto was proof that he wants Mom to be someone she isn’t and that she would be better off being with someone who loves her for all of her. Mere Germaine agreed.

I’m also hoping Mom gets rid of him, but only if she chooses Nick because I’d hate to see Mom sad, and I don’t want her to be alone, even though she might ruin my life.

Click here for Chapter 16: In Over My Head

My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 14: Almost in the Nick of Time

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CHAPTER 14

ALMOST IN THE NICK OF TIME

May 1964

Let me tell you about Nick.

He’s tall, handsome, and the best thing that has happened to Mom in a long time, maybe even ever. And even though Mom says Nick has his selfish reasons, he likes me!

Last week, when Nick came to pick up Mom to take her to Seaside Park, I screamed out the back window for her to take me with them, which I could see made her furious.

Mem yanked me away from the window and made me sit facing the wall in the living room for fifteen minutes. I thought they had left, but then Mom came upstairs and said Nick felt awful that I was begging out the window and insisted I go with them.

When I yelled to Mem that I needed to come off the wall because Nick was waiting for me to go to the beach, mean Mom told me Nick could care less about me. “He only told me to let you come with us because you screamed out the window like a nincompoop. You’re a pathetic beggar, and he feels sorry for you.”

Mem asked Mom why she had to say such hurtful things to me, but I didn’t care because I was just happy to be going to the beach.

I thanked Nick later, and he told me it was no big deal since he’s Mom’s boyfriend now and wants us to be friends. Nick should only know the truth—that Mom has another boyfriend.

Mom is also dating a guy named Roberto. I’ve never met him, but I’ve seen him from Mem’s window a few times. I’m forbidden to look out the window when Roberto shows up, so I am as careful as all get out.

Mom told me if she ever catches me spying on them, she’ll give me the strap, which is way worse than the wall.

I know Roberto doesn’t know I exist because, according to what Mom tells Mem and Mere Germaine, she’s afraid to tell him she has a kid.

I was going to let Nick know that he isn’t Mom’s only boyfriend, but he was so nice to me, I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, and at least Mom told him about me. And unless Nick is good at hiding his true feelings, it seems like he’s okay that I exist.

Mom was reading a book on the blanket while the two of us dug for clams. We talked about White Street and what it was like living there. I told him about the rat traps, but he already knew. He asked me if I was afraid like Mom, and I lied and said no.

He seems to care about what I think, and I like him a lot. He calls me Kiddo, and I like that too.

When we got home that night, Mom stayed in the car with Nick while I went upstairs. I tried to look out the window to see if they were making out, but Mem pulled me away and yelled for me to give them some privacy or she’d put me on the wall again.

I pretended to go to bed and took one more peek out the window. Mom wasn’t kissing Nick, and it was obvious that he was upset about something because he had his head in his hands, and she was patting him on the back, which I took as a bad, bad sign.

Click here for Chapter 15: Roberto, Roberto, Roberto

The Teri Tome–My Top Five 2022 Posts

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According to Grammarly, a cloud-based typing assistant, I have used their program to word-check 1.2 million words in 2022.

And the total number of words Grammarly has word-checked since I started my blog “The Teri Tome” in 2015 is a whopping 5.9 million. That’s a sh*tload of words, but in the end, what purpose does all that writing serve?

For as long as I can remember, stories and miscellanea visions brewed around in my head. Free-flowing words and phrases were stuck inside my kiddie brain, begging to come out—the only proof of them was hidden in the pages of my mind or laid out in secret code in my diaries and journals.

I’ve spent a ton of time thinking about why I obsessively head-write and how I have managed to successfully transcribe those thoughts to paper.

To be honest, there is no rhyme or reason to my literary artistry, primarily because the words just spill out, and the stories tend to write themselves. So much for talent.

The writing is literally and literarily out of my control. It happens all day and all night—every day and every night. It never stops. The scribbling on scraps of paper, the pocket notepads always at the ready, my prowess at writing in the dark.

Countless words erratically squiggled right side up, sideways, and even upside down. Sometimes I try to piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle—a montage of edited and unedited thoughts, feelings, and dreams.

Reams of notes cover my desk, bedside table, kitchen counter, and my car’s center console. I keep paper and pencil with me at all times.

My writing element of choice is a PaperMate Sharpwriter #2 pencil. Even as a child, I never liked using pens—I always found them way too permanent.

To this day, a pencil is the only writing element I use.

WRITE – ERASE – WRITE – ERASE. That’s how I write it out.

And I write it out because my brain is hard-wired to spill and spell it all out. Or maybe it’s not my brain, but something deep inside my heart.

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you know that I am nothing, if not transparent—an open book. Maybe too open. But why?

Perhaps I feel compelled to write it all out because I was hidden in plain sight as a child. Sort of seen but never heard, and mostly invisible. My very existence was always carefully guarded and monitored by those in charge of me.

You probably think, “enough about the how and the why of your words; just give me your top five blog posts already.”

But sorry, not sorry, I can’t stop thinking about why I feel compelled to write it all down before it’s too late, or how my words will play into the memory of me, and what my written purpose is.

But the endless self-examination always brings me back to the same old place: A written, frequently uncensored record of my subconscious self.

In 2022, I wrote 24 blog posts, which collectively comprised about 72,000 page views.

The total number of page views for my blog was over 600,000 in 2022, up slightly from last year, so I’m thankful.

Okay, so finally, here are my top five best-performing blog posts from 2022.

And since many of the older posts brought in most of my page views, I’ve included the #1 hit of all Teri Tome time (2015-2022).

#1 HIT IN 2022


This Poem Is for You: I feel humbled by the massive number of views this poem received. I love to write poetry, but I’m not much of a rhymer, so I have little confidence in the poesy department. I’d like to think this poem got so many hits because everyone can relate to love’s ebbs and flows.

#2 HIT IN 2022


My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 9: Father Panik Village: I wrote this chapter almost thirty years ago. The thousands of hits this post accumulated keep me confident that uploading chapters of my novel My Stolen Dairies onto my blog is the right thing to do. To date, I have posted thirteen chapters, consisting of 51 pages, onto The Teri Tome. That leaves 101 pages of my novel left to post, so stay tuned.

#3 HIT IN 2022


What About the Sanctity of the Born?:
I’m happy this post got thousands of page views, but I’m also horrified and disgusted that women’s rights have been so cavalierly taken away. As a wordsmith, I chose the word cavalierly with purpose. During the English Civil War, the word cavalier was a negative label used to describe the wealthy, primarily male, royal loyalists and fervent supporters of King Charles I until his beheading in 1649. I’m not recommending any beheadings but get those creepy cavaliers out of our bedrooms!

#4 HIT IN 2022


Are You Reading This Poem?: Wow. Another poem. I can only hope that the person I wrote this poem for was one of the many thousands who viewed it. And I still have faith that one day we will reunite.

#5 HIT IN 2022


The Hourglass: Yet another poem! That makes three poems in the top five! I am both amazed and flattered that this poem about fragility on Mother’s Day reached so many people. And it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: Thank God for my precious grandchildren.

#1 HIT OF ALL TERI TOME TIME (2015-2022)


Wedding Centerpieces that Can Save the World: My #1 blog post of all time (2015-2022) is a repeat of last year. This post, which has garnered over 420,000 page views, is about making charitable contributions in lieu of wasteful and costly wedding centerpieces. I wonder how many brides actually took my advice?

My 2023 New Year’s resolution is all about closure, and although I am skeptical, I remain ever hopeful for the elusive to finally come to an end.

Lastly, I wish my readers a happy, healthy, and fortunate New Year. And I hope that 2023 brings freedom, equality, justice, and political peace to not just some of us but all of us.

My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 13: Is My Dad in the Mafia?

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CHAPTER 13

IS MY DAD IN THE MAFIA?

December 1963

Like any kid, I wish I knew more about my father and would like to see him again, but I know it’s not possible, especially now that Mom thinks he’s in the mafia.

Mom refuses to talk about him, so we never do. I can sometimes get Mem to talk about him, but not very often. She mostly tells me, “Go ask your mother.” When I do as Mem says, Mom gets ugly in the face and tells me to “Shut my trap.”

I know I’m French on Mom and Mem’s side, but I don’t know what I am on my father’s side. Before my Catholic baptism, I was Greek Orthodox, so maybe I’m Greek?

But when I ask Mem and Mom if I’m Greek, they both respond with, “Don’t start that up again.”

But I can’t help myself. I try not to start up or cause trouble, but every time I look in the mirror, I’m reminded over and over of all the things I don’t know about myself or my dad.

When Mom gets mad at me, she yells that I’m just like my father. I want to ask her why, but I don’t dare because I’m not an idiot.  And I sure hope I’m not just like my father because everyone in my family hates him.

I tried to ask Adam some more mafia questions, but he must have told Mem I was snooping around because he said he wasn’t allowed to talk about that with me anymore. When I asked him what could be worse than getting killed, he made believe he didn’t hear my question and changed the subject.

That made me angry at Adam, so to get back at him, I said that Steve was buying us a television set for Christmas, which I could see bothered him a lot.

Three days later, Adam had a television set delivered to our apartment, which made Steve furious, but he never said a word about how he felt to Mem. Steve asked me if I had anything to do with Adam buying us a television set, and I lied and said no.

I also lied and told Steve that Adam told me plenty about my dad and asked him what he knew. He said he knew nothing about my dad, but I could tell he was a liar, just like me. Plus, when I asked Steve if he thought I looked like my dad, he said “a little,” so he must know something about him.

Even though I tried, I couldn’t get Steve to say anything more except that kids are better seen than heard and that I should give up getting any family secrets from him.

So, I listened to Steve and gave up until the other night when I caught Mem and Mom whispering together about a newspaper article Mom had in her shaking hand.

They spoke French, but my understanding of the language is getting better by the day.

Whatever they were talking about, as far as I could figure, had something to do with my father running naked out of a swamp with his hands up over his head! His friend Anthony, who It sounded like Mom knew, was shot and killed, but the police couldn’t kill my dad because he wasn’t wearing any clothes and his hands were in the air.

Mom also told Mem that the article said my dad’s problems with the law had something to do with a bunch of arrests against some of the hitmen connected to the Gambino family.

Mem hugged Mom, who kept saying she was afraid someone in the mafia would try to hurt me to get back at my dad.

Why would anyone want to hurt me? And who was the Gambino family?

Then she hid the newspaper article on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet over the sink.

In the middle of the night, while everyone was asleep, I snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen even though I was scared to death of the cockroaches and rats. But I had to read the newspaper for myself, so I took my chances.

I didn’t turn on the light, so the cockroaches on the wall didn’t move much.

I dragged a kitchen chair to the sink, climbed up to the cabinet, and discovered a pile of newspapers, so I pulled them all down.

The article on the top said: BRIDGEPORT MAN ARRESTED IN SHOOTOUT

And there in the newspaper was my dad’s name and address. It said that investigators from the State Organized Crime Task Force arrested Mick Michaels for assaulting a State Trooper. The guy Anthony, who was with my dad, got shot in the head. The police said Anthony, who had ties to Billy Batts and the Gambino Family, committed suicide. My dad was charged with assault and carrying a dangerous weapon, which I’m sure had to be a gun. They also charged him with violating probation, whatever that is. And he paid $25,000 to stay out of jail until his court date.

My heart was pounding as I read through the newspaper articles and wrote down as many headings as possible so I could read them later.

ORGANIZED CRIME INVESTIGATORS ARREST GAMBLING CLUB OWNER * BRIDGEPORT MAN CHARGED WITH ASSAULT * JAIL TERM GIVEN IN GAMING CASE * U.S. PRISON TERMS GIVEN TO TWO IN AREA * DRIVER IS JAILED IN CAR GUN CASE * COURT CHARGES TWO IN STOLEN GOODS * THREE FROM CITY INDICTED ON FEDERAL CHARGES * JAIL TERM GIVEN TO BRIDGEPORT MAN IN GAMBLING RAID * MAN ARRESTED IN LIQUOR AND MAIL THEFTS * TWO MEN JAILED IN AFTERMATH OF NEWSROOM RAID * TWO NABBED IN GAMING RAID * BRIDGEPORT MAN HELD FOR GUN FOUND IN AUTO * FIVE IN BOOKIE RING GIVEN JAIL * MAN ARRESTED AFTER GANG FIGHT ON BEACH * DIVORCE GRANTED BASED ON INTOLERABLE CRUELTY * 34 ARE CHARGED ON AUTO TAG LIST * RAID ON BRIDGEPORT HOUSE RIPS BIG BET BUSINESS * CLOVER CLUB OWNER CHARGED ON INCOME TAX VIOLATION * LOCAL MAN INDICTED FOR DISTRIBUTING HEROIN AND COCAINE *

I went back to bed but couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was that my dad was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a dangerous man, and probably in the mafia.

The next day I asked Sister Regina Mary if $25,000 was a lot of money, and she told me it was almost one-quarter of a million dollars! I also asked her if she knew anything about the Gambino family, and she said they were mafia murderers.

Now I know that Mom is right, and my dad is in the mafia, but at least he’s not in jail. Not yet, anyway. And I pray he’s not a hitman.

So now, like Mom, I’m worried that the mafia might be coming for me, which makes me really angry at my dad. Doesn’t he know I could get killed or worse? Doesn’t he know I’m already living a scary life?

And since he came up with so much money, my dad must be rich, so why are we so poor?

Click here for Chapter 14: Almost in the Nick of Time