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My Stolen Diaries — Chapter 32: From Rags to Riches

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CHAPTER 32

FROM RAGS TO RICHES

June 21, 1967

I graduated from eighth grade today. And on Saturday, Mom’s getting married.

With Mere Germaine gone, Mem is surviving but barely thriving. For whatever reason, the three of us don’t mention her at all. It’s like she never existed. I think we’re all afraid to upset each other, so we keep our treasured feelings and memories of Mere Germaine to ourselves.

Leaving my Bridgeport friends is going to be impossible. I have no idea what another school will be like or if the Westport kids will accept me, and honestly, I’m terrified.

I take for granted that I’m among the most popular girls in school, and according to Chris, I’m the prettiest. Speaking of Chris, he’s still dating Juliette, so we both agreed that we would settle for being close friends, although it’s doubtful that I will ever see him again.

Chris invited me to his after-graduation pool party, but while everyone else was dancing and carrying-on, all I could think about was moving to Westport. Chris played songs like “Let’s Live for Today” and “Seven Rooms of Gloom.” It seemed like every song he played was meant for me. Even though our house in Westport has more than seven rooms, knowing me, I’ll feel gloomy no matter what, at least in the beginning.

We all jumped into Chris’s above-ground and leaking pool, which was too small for even half of us to fit into, so we were squeezed together in the waist-deep water like a bunch of packed sardines. When the song “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie started to play, I got teary-eyed and shoved my way out of the crammed pool to sit alone, feeling sorry for myself.

I dried off and walked home, thinking about how once Mom and Rob returned from their honeymoon, we’d be moving into his “colonial-revival-style home,” whatever that means. And according to Mom, we’ll be rich. A fancy town, a grandiose house, lots of money—everything Mom always dreamed about, but not me.

Although I’ve spent my entire life sleeping in the same bed as Mem, having a gigantic bedroom to myself can never make up for the fact that I’m leaving behind everything and everyone I love. I won’t be that far, but Mom will never allow me to invite my Bridgeport friends to Westport. And she has made it abundantly clear to Mem that I’m forbidden to return to Bridgeport ever again.

Leaving Mem will be impossible, because I have never lived without her. And once we’re gone, she’ll be left all alone. As someone who grew up coming home to an empty apartment, I know firsthand how lonely this will be for Mem, especially now that Mere Germaine is gone.

I keep going back and forth, trying to figure out how to get out of this Westport move, but it’s a useless exercise. Mom keeps promising me that I’ll make new friends, but I’m not so sure about that.

She thinks our going from rags to riches will make everything perfect, but she doesn’t know anything about me or what makes me happy. Or maybe she knows but doesn’t care.

I’m not looking forward to leaving Bridgeport, but I’ll admit, I am looking forward to being rich, mostly because I’m sick and tired of being poor.

Last night, I prayed that we would be one big happy family once we moved to Westport. That’s what Mom and Rob keep promising me. We’ll also be a family with lots of money, so maybe Mom and Rob are right, and everything will turn out how they expect it to.

I’ll be the female version of Richie Rich, and Mom will play the part of his mother, Regina—but a skinnier, prettier version. Rob can play the part of his father, Richard, but I only care about Mom and me. I sure hope Rob turns out to be a better husband and father than he was a boyfriend.

Stay tuned for Chapter 33: The Westport Wedding

My Stolen Diaries — Chapter 31: Bridgeport Hospital

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CHAPTER 31

 BRIDGEPORT HOSPITAL

September 16, 1966

I’ve been begging Mem to let me stay with her in Bridgeport ever since Mom asked for my permission to marry Rob, which I will never give her.

Mem promised to talk to Mom, but it caused a huge fight when she did. I was standing in the upstairs hallway, eavesdropping. Mere Germaine hadn’t been feeling well for a few days, so she was lying in bed. But I’m sure she heard the whole ugly thing.

First, Mem asked if I would attend Catholic School in Westport, and Mom said, “No, the Junior High School near Rob’s house is one of the best in the country.” I was gunning for Mem when she said, “But Tony wants to go to Notre Dame with her friends.”

“Well, that’s not happening,” Mom said in a raised voice. I thought Mem would blast her for speaking in such a disrespectful tone.

Instead, Mem asked if she could pick me up some weekends and bring me back to Success Park, and Mom said a flat-out “No.” That’s when things turned nasty.

Mem got loud and had a lot to say. “Westport is not for her, and you know it. It’s not bad enough that you’re taking her from me, but now you’re saying she’s not allowed back in Bridgeport? Let her go to Notre Dame with her friends. Let her stay with me during the week.”

Mom tried to interrupt, but Mem got even louder.

“I’ll drive her to you on the weekends. Let’s try to ease her into this thing. Maybe she’ll grow to like it. She can always change schools. She’s thirteen years old. I’m not sure she can handle Westport.”

Mom screamed back at her in response.

“This is not about Tony; this is about you. You want her all for yourself. It doesn’t matter to you that she’ll destroy her chances for a better life because she wants to hang out with her loser friends. She needs to get out of Bridgeport. I’m her mother, and she’s coming with me.”

Mem tried to say more, but Mom stormed out of the apartment. Mom’s decision was final, and I was furious and determined to make her pay.

But I never got the chance for revenge because the next day, Mere Germaine took a turn for the worse and was rushed to the hospital by ambulance.

Every day, the three of us sat at her bedside at Bridgeport Hospital. Mere Germaine was weak, but she was a fighter, and we were all praying she would come home soon.

Then, one night, Mem woke me up, clutching her heart, and told me to get Mom because she couldn’t breathe. Mom called an ambulance, and they took her away—also to Bridgeport Hospital.

Mom was relieved that Mem and Mere Germaine were on different floors, even though they both had heart conditions. We didn’t want to worry Mere Germaine, so we told her that Mem couldn’t visit her because she was busy working.

I know Mere Germaine didn’t believe Mom, and I could see that her anxiety about what might have happened to Mem was taking a terrible toll on her health, which was getting worse by the minute.

On our way to the hospital on September 23,  three days before Mem’s Birthday, I finally convinced Mom to tell Mere Germaine that Mem was in the same hospital. And she promised she would.

When we got to the hospital, we first went to see Mem, and we told her that we had no choice but to let Mere Germaine finally know the truth. She was unhappy about it but too weak to argue.

Then we took the elevator one floor up to see Mere Germaine. I was confused when we got to her room because her bed was empty.

Mom fell to the floor screaming. Then I screamed out for someone to help Mom because I didn’t know what was going on, and I was scared to death.

Mom was rolling around on the floor, writhing in pain, so I jumped on top of her. She grabbed me and held on so tight I thought she would crush me.

“She’s dead, oh my God, she’s dead, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she kept wailing over and over and over again.

And then it was like a knife got shoved into my heart. That’s when I realized why Mere Germaine’s bed was empty. My beautiful, loving, remarkable great-grandmother was dead.

It took a while for the nurse to get us both off the floor. Mom continued to crush me against her, and I have never in all my years seen her so beaten down.

Through tears, Mom asked to see Mere Germaine, but the nurse explained that they had already taken her away.

“Where did they take Mere Germaine?” I repeatedly asked Mom, but she was in no shape to answer me.

When she finally let go of me, she drew in a deep breath, and it was the first time in all my years that I ever saw Mom take charge.

We left the hospital, and she called the Germaine family to let everyone know the horrible news. She called the funeral home and St. Ambrose and made all the arrangements for Mere Germaine’s funeral.

And then she silently took me back to the hospital to visit Mem but never told her that Mere Germaine was dead. She was afraid it would kill her too, which, at the time, it probably would have.

Three days after Mere Germaine died, we buried her—on Mem’s birthday. After the funeral and burial, Mem’s doctor set up a time for him to be in the hospital room with us so Mom could tell her about Mere Germaine.

As soon as we walked into Mem’s room, she wept uncontrollably. Mem said she knew that Mere Germaine was gone from the look on Mom’s face.

The doctor gave her a pill to put under her tongue so her heart wouldn’t stop. I was on one side of Mem’s bed, and Mom was on the other. We laid our heads on her and sobbed uncontrollably while Mem placed a hand on each of us and softly and bravely prayed.

“Dear Lord, with heavy hearts, we place our beloved Jewel St. Germaine in your care. Although her body is gone from us, her soul will live on in eternity. May a choir of angels keep her safe until we meet again. Now and forever, Amen.”

In that moment of tears and prayers, I realized that Mere Germaine had been the glue that held us together.

And just like that, we went from a family of four strong, invincible females to three shattered and broken survivors.

Click here for Chapter 32: From Rags to Riches

My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 23: She’s an Awkward Girl

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CHAPTER 23

SHE’S AN AWKWARD GIRL

January 1966

Since moving to Success Park, Mom was finally treating me like a human being again.

That was until she went to a New Year’s Eve party with Nick and saw Roberto there with another girl. Now we’re right back where we started with Mom accusing me of ruining her life.

It’s been a blessing having Mere Germaine back living with us, and I love Success Park, but I wish Mom would get over Roberto.

I also wish I could see Yolanda and Steve because I miss them like crazy. But Mem says that part of our life is over, so I don’t think I’ll ever see them again.

If I wanted to, I could easily walk to Steve’s Market and Father Panik after school and see both of them, and Mem wouldn’t have a clue.

But if Mem says that part of our life is over, I need to respect her wishes. The last thing I need is for Mem to be mad at me as well.

Nick is still hanging in there, but knowing Mom loves someone else can’t be easy for him. I know she’s trying, but Mom isn’t interested in Nick. And Mom seeing Roberto on New Year’s Eve didn’t help things with Nick at all.

I don’t blame Mom for being mad at me. I’d be mad at me, too. But the way I see it, I’m not sure Mom will ever forgive me. I’m not sure Mom even likes me.

Last night, I heard Mom say to Mem, “She’s an awkward girl.” “She needs to grow into herself, that’s all,” replied Mem.

Telling Mem I’m awkward is Mom’s new thing. Maybe that’s her way of getting back at me, although I know Mom doesn’t think I’m much to look at.

I looked up the word “awkward” in the dictionary, and the definition hurt me badly.

In the wrong direction, lacking skill, turned the wrong way, causing embarrassment—that’s what the dictionary said.

Is that what I am to Mom—an embarrassment? Or is she saying mean things because she’s still mad at me?

I once heard her tell Nick on the telephone that I’m awkward and need help in the looks department. Of course, I don’t know what he said, but it must have been something about me being shy because Mom answered, “No, she’s not shy. Not even close. She’s got a big mouth. You haven’t seen that side of her yet. She’s mouthy, she’s lanky, and she’s awkward.”

My dark, frizzy hair is pretty awful—I’ll be the first to admit it. And my nose is bigger than I would like. And okay, my skin is darker than any of my friends, except for Yolanda, because, of course, her skin is black.

Mem says that as I get older, my nose will fit nicely on my face, but I don’t think I’ll ever grow into myself like she keeps telling me.

Mere Germaine thought she was making me feel better by telling me that I have a “Roman” nose, whatever that means. Yeah, “roamin” all over my face!

Mom’s probably right—I’m awkward. But I still don’t think it’s nice to say hurtful things about me. So, to get even with her, I told Mem about Mom’s conversation with Nick about me being awkward and needing help in the looks department.

I milked it for all it was worth and told Mem I could do nothing about being ugly. I knew she felt sorry for me because she gave me a long, tight hug. Then she reminded me about the ugly duckling.

“The ugly duckling wasn’t a duck at all—it turned out to be a swan—a beautiful, graceful swan. And all the ducks were jealous. You’re a swan, my little Tony. I see it right here in your face—and in those serious dark eyes of yours. And soon enough, everyone will see you as the swan that you are.”

I thought hard about what she said. “What are you thinking, mon petit choux?” Mem asked. “Why doesn’t Mom see that I’m a swan?” I reluctantly asked.

“I see. That’s all that matters,” Mem replied. “Now you wipe those tears away, d’accord?”

Later that night, Mem had a huge fight with Mom about her calling me awkward. Mom was angry that I was snooping on her and Nick. “She’s a tattle tale and a little snitch. That’s what she gets for putting her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Mem’s mouth was hanging open, but at least Mom didn’t say my big nose!

“You’re her mother, for Christ’s sake,” Mem screamed out. And then she sucked in a great big breath because she had used God’s name in vain. She took her rosary beads from her housedress pocket and ran out of the kitchen and up into our bedroom.

I gave Mem a few minutes, and then I went upstairs, where she was on her knees praying next to our bed. “Holy Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death.”

She motioned for me to kneel beside her so we could pray together. Mem prayed out loud and asked God to forgive her for losing her temper.

I prayed silently and asked God to make my nose smaller and turn me into a swan as soon as conveniently possible.

Click here for Chapter 24: He’s Baack!

My Stolen Diaries – Chapter 22: O Holy Night

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CHAPTER 22

O HOLY NIGHT

December 1965

I have never seen Mem so happy and so relaxed. She’s been sewing secret gifts for all of us while playing holiday music nonstop. Her favorite song is O Holy Night by Nat King Cole, and she plays it on our record player over and over and over again.

Mem says that after what Adam did for us, the song has even more meaning to her than before.

Her favorite part of the song is:

♪ ♪ A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. Fall on your knees, oh hear the angel voices. ♪ ♪

Life has indeed been glorious since moving to Success Park. Mere Germaine and Mom share a room with twin beds, and I sleep with Mem in the bed Adam gave us.

Mem says that Adam was our guardian angel and our Christmas miracle, and we all agree.

Speaking of miracles, surviving seven years of St. Ambrose Catholic School is also a miracle because all the nuns except Sister Regina Mary are beastly and mean!

Mom says it’s because they never “get any” and calls them frustrated old bitties, but only when Mem and Mere Germaine aren’t around.

When I ask Mom what the nuns never get, she tells me I’m too young to understand.

I used to think it was sacrilegious for her to say bad things about the nuns, but now I agree. The nuns have a terrifying way of humiliating us girls.

They put their fingers together in a point and pound them into the top of our heads. Ouch is right. The constant digging of their fingers into our skulls can’t be good for us.

The boys have it worse, though. The Sisters grab both their ears and yank them hard, causing their heads to bobble back and forth, which I’m sure rattles up their brains.

They also torture us in other ways, like stalking and roaming around with a wood pointer and whacking it on our hands whenever they feel like it.

Once, when Mother Superior caught me chewing gum, she made me walk around with it stuck on my nose all day, including recess, which was tricky because it kept falling off. By the time school was out, the wad of gum was filthy and speckled with who knows what.

Another time, she read a note I sent to my best school friend Vicki about a boy I had a crush on—over the load speaker to the entire school!

The good news, though, is that I am still one of the most popular girls in my class, and now that we don’t live on White Street, things have never been better.

However, there is some bad news—my friends are still not allowed to come to our apartment because I’m still from a broken family.

But at least I don’t feel ashamed of where I live, just sorry that people think my life with Mem, Mom, and Mere Germaine is broken.

Click here for Chapter 23: She’s an Awkward Girl