Secrets of a Poet: Tears of Christmas

Secrets of a Poet: Tears of Christmas: It is the day after Christmas and I have cried three times today. I can’t explain the feeling. I don’t even know if it’s sadness. I ha...

Tears of Christmas

It is the day after Christmas and I have cried three times today. I can’t explain the feeling. I don’t even know if it’s sadness. I had two amazing days with people that treat me like I am a part of something. The something that I am feeling is hard to except because I have never felt that good in my life. As a kid many things seemed great. My cousins were the best, my brothers, my aunts and uncles but deep down there was something missing. I was missing a sense of belonging and not know who you are. At the age of twenty eight I should know who I am but the reality is I’m still finding Karla. When I was eighteen I dated a boy named Joel whose family was loving and caring but I let it go because I did not think I deserved it. When I dated Eric he made me part of his entire life every single bit of it and once again I let that go because, how could a girl like me deserve that? When I met Michael P he turned my world into a world made for a princess. The one thing Disney forgets to tell us is that if you have never experienced the world of royalty you become lost; and it’s unfair for the person that has to try and polish you.  Then I met who I believed was my perfect named Michael B and then you realize he never loved you.  At that exact moment I finally met my prince, my dad. For the first time in my life it all makes sense. Mike B came into my life as a “learner” to teach me that it is possible to love. My father came into my life to teach me about me and give me an identity. The reason I do not talk to my mother is because I was in search for myself. The tears I cry tonight happen because I am happy that I can see the road to something bigger and better. The Stohler family came into my life in the most important time and in the most needed time for me. The day I met Abby Stohler, I mean really met her was the day she offer a helping hand to me without even knowing me. I was in such bad place in my life and she overheard me talking about my breakup with Mike B and she offer to talk or to get coffee. This was foreign to me, this girl that had only known me for a month or two wanted to be there for me. It was faith that I could meet such a person and shortly after I met her family. Sitting in a room full of sounds of laughter, giggles, snuggles, random dancing and singing I felt so welcomed. I felt a part of a family. The one thing Mike B thought me is that you can allow yourself to feel and deserve love. The one thing my father has thought me is that things do not always have to be so black and white. The day after Christmas I cry because I am on my way to getting to know me. We all deserve to be loved, to love but most important to know how to love you.

Milk

I was 6 years old the first time I felt desperation. It was about two am and my mother was not home. Not sure if she was out or actually working most night became a blur. My baby brother Jonny was crying and I had to get up to feed him. We lived in te garage of this house my family rented. At first I took Jonny into my arms and began to sing and that did not work. Then I changed his diaper but that did not work. He kept crying. I set him down to make him a bottle when out of my small six year ok hands the entire container fell. Powder milk everywhere. I did not know what to do but scoop some into te bottle. Sorry Jonny.  I began to cry because I was so desperate. I just wanted to make him feel better. I was scared what would she say? All I could think of was her being mad. There in the middle of the night a 6 month old baby and a six year old girl cried side by side until we fell asleep. The world was to huge and I felt the size of an ant. 

Winter

Winter is back

Bitter and cold, it slaps you

Thinking of last year

You sit there so sad

Snow on the ground reminds you that it’s hard

The wind blows on your face

Your nose, oh so cold

You have forgotten the soft warm touch of his kiss

In the dark all you hear is silence

You are afraid

Then one day

 

You realize the harsh bitter truth, you never needed him

He is long gone and all is fine

He is just the old cold shadow following you

He no longer has the power, you can look into his face

You can change the shape of the shadow, it’s yours

It never belonged to him, he never had the power

The soft warm touch was your mind, it was your hand and your heart

The heart that you gave to him but now you can take it back

It was never his too keep

It’s just a matter of time

When you sit there looking out the window

Sitting next to your dog, not a sound around

Christmas lights glimmering, don’t forget you are not alone

It was always you and winter battling

So turn around and walk away from the shadow

And take what’s yours

so long winter

Ho Ho Ho

Oh Christmas!

Christmas is not hard because I need or want things; it’s hard because I have such a mix feeling about it. Growing up with 22 cousins was amazing. I loved Christmas as a kid because I always awaited the arrival of all my cousins at my grandmother home. There were several groups of cousins. See in every family there is a “Tele novela “or what Americans call a soap opera. The dynamic of my family was simple because every family was defined and I guess that’s the same for everyone around the world.  My mother had 6 siblings and she was the 3^rd oldest. There were 5 girls and two boys. For purposes of protection I will only use their first letter of their name.

L was the oldest and had 3 boys. Two of her boys were a few years older than me. This was the all American family. They played sports, had the best of everything and were born in the US. They even had soda, and if you were a kid in the90’s that was huge.

A was the second oldest and had 4 boys.  They were also pretty cool and had top of the line everything. Except these cousins were a bit different because they were mix of Mexican and Pilipino, not a bad thing but it was different.

G was the fourth oldest and her kids were brats. I hate to say it because we are all brats as kids but this was above and beyond. There were two girls and two boys. These kids were the ones that had to have what they wanted, when they wanted and they got it. Other than fast food they did not eat regular food.

B was the fifth one in the family and she had two girls and two boys. They were the perfect family. Her husband worked and she was a stay home mom. The girls were not allowed to play with boys and were never to settle for less. Name brands were a big deal and the girls were made to be wives someday. The boys were brats but for the most part I was closest to them. I always admired their mother she always seemed so calm and collected like nothing could face her.  My grandmother would go upside down for these kids.

Then there was M, what can I say about him. He was the second youngest and a total jerk. If there was ever someone I really disliked so much in my life he would be at the top of the list. He had kids later in his life. He lived with my grandmother until he got married and even after. He had two girls and a boy plus two step girls. His oldest I love dearly, probably because I took care of her.

Last was the youngest N who is closest in age with me.  She was who I wanted to be like until she got pregnant at 18. Not that having kids at that age is bad I just imagined her being the one to travel and go to school. Instead she settled and had 3 more kids. She had one girl and three boys. They were my grandmother’s favorite.

Then there was us I was the 3^rd oldest of the cousins and I have 3 brothers on my mom side and 3 siblings on my dad’s but they were not around.  We were the outcasts. Our mother was what people call the wild child. My brother was a little trouble maker and the two youngest were dealt with the pressure to fallow him. I was the one who tried to keep us together. Every uncle or aunt had something to say about us. “There mom is crazy” “something is always going on” “oh Charlie”  “when will she get it together” “they will all just end up like her” and this went on for years and years. Most of my life I ignored comments. But every Christmas the comments would slap more and more on the face. As I began to grow and understand what they meant I began to resent them.

Every Christmas I could not wait to see my cousins but I dreaded the fact that my mother would most likely disappear, and I would hear the comments. On top of that everyone’s gifts would remind us that we would not get anything from her. Lastly, I would learn that I am the most stubborn and proud girl ever. I was in 3^rd grade when I learned that I would never except a gift from anyone because they felt sorry for me or obligated. It started Christmas day that year when our mother was MIA and my grandmother gave my uncle money to buy us a gift at Walgreens the only store open on Christmas day. He came back with this little black bubble boom box. It was the size of an orange. It was like sitting in a room with tape over your mouth listening to all the bad things you could hear about your mother. So I did what any 3^rd grader would do I gave it back. Of course I was reprimanded and I had to take it; but man oh man I was mad.

After a while I did not care anymore about who or what they gave me. Instead I focused in trying to make my brothers happy. As soon as they moved in with me I began to make sure they would have almost everything they wanted. I would wrap everything for them even socks. That’s when Christmas became fun and good for me. I have never been one to ask for anything except for happiness and if you know me you know I love to make people happy. The way people smile and glow when they receive something even a flower or a smile makes me happy. Living in CT is bitter sweet. I miss my brothers, cousins and friends. I do not miss the drama. There are times I feel lonely but then again there are people that always surprise me and make me happy. In the end I learned that you make your own happiness and sometimes your family is those who put a smile on your face not always the ones you are born with.  

PS. I did not turn out like my mother or father. I am myself, I am Karla.

Planning my Escape

Have you ever seen a woman walk into a room and charm everyone? If you have not seen such a thing, you need to meet my mother. See, we never had much and we moved around a lot. We rented rooms, apartments, lived with my grandmother, lived in a car and even in shelters. We were far from even middle class. But if anyone knows my mother you would know that she has this wift of elegance. There is something about her I cannot explain. It was as if she owned the world. She is the kind of woman that no matter the day or what the weather is like she is always dressed up. She never walked out without makeup and heels. Men would surround her like she was the only one in this world. She knew how to get what she wanted. The only thing about her is that her insecurity and immaturity made her dull. It was like a beautiful painting was being washed away. She was the color red but certain things made her dark, noire, she had a side you did not want to know.

When my mother was happy she was happy. She always played music, danced around the house and enjoyed drinking. Then there were times when she would call our names screaming, shouting for us. You never knew what it was about. Most days she wanted to us to find her other shoe because she had lost one a few nights ago. So, there we were on the search for her shoe. If it took long she would begin by cursing at us, only to smacking us on the head. If you cried she would hit you and you did not want that.

I will never forget, one hot summer day. I cannot recall why she was furious I just remember she began to hit me and then my brother. I was six and he was five. She was on top of him. With a wooden spoon she began to hit his face, time after, time after time, after time. All I could do was screaming for her to STOP but she would not.

Then there was another time when we were trying to find something and we couldn’t so she began to hit us. She took my face against the mirror and told me she hated me. She proceeded to get my brother and I completely naked and had us kneel down outside in the rain. She had us holding buckets of water and if we dropped them she would hit us.

Then in a moment she would apologize and somehow I would forgive her. Somehow I felt like it was my fault. Her charm would enchant me and she would always make it better.

At times I felt she had two personalities. The lovely woman could have people eating out of her palm, and then there was other woman that was nasty.

I had been planning my escape ever since I could remember. In fourth grade I had a job just helping a lady clean a Laundromat. I began to save all my money. I would get $25 a day. Next thing you know I had hundreds of dollars because I did it for a whole year.  At the time my mother had no idea what I was doing because she was too busy going out, having her girlfriends living with us and sleeping until noon. I had even begun to learn how to drive. One day we had had a very bad fight and she kicked me out. She said I should leave if I did not like living whit her, and to take my brothers. It was what I had been waiting for. It was my moment. If you know me you know I’m stubborn like donkey. Ran to my room or closet where I lived and packed everything. I grabbed my brothers and walked out the door. It was the very first time I had defied my mother and it was the first time she realized I was not six years old, hahaha I was nine but in my head I was 30. As we waited for the elevator she walked out after us. She asked “Where do you think you are going?” In reality I think she just wanted us there because, if not she’d be in trouble. She apologized and so we went back to hell.

What I gained that day was strength and for the first time courage. The teemed girl was still there. I was still shy and awkward but I had a sense of control and no one could take that from me.

E and Four years

Senor year in High school was amazing!!! I know that most people hate high school but I actually had a blast especially senor year. I had turned 18 during senor year. I was in every club possible and was swimming on top of that I had the best friends I could have ever made. Every Thursday through Sunday we would go out to parties and I was dating a boy. That relationship only lasted 6 months but it was blast.  This was the same year that I had gotten a small scholarship and had gotten in to all the schools I had applied to. I was on top of the world but with that came many obstacles. It was the first time in my life that being an immigrant actually faced me face to face. I had gone through the entire school system and now I could not afford college because I was not a citizen. To make it more interesting my mother had gone through her second divorce and I found her in the worst depression I had ever seen her. I imagine she was doing drugs because she was always locked in her room and awake all night. She would leave with random people and not come home for days. I was the head of the family and I took care of my brothers. Then one day she took my brothers and left them at my grandmother house.

While all of this was happening one day E showed up at my door. He was a boy I had often thought about because he was quite peculiar. Except I had never had spent much time getting to know.  I invited him to in with all my other friends and I made us all dinner. He looked at me and said “if you feed me I will never leave” and he never did. He became one of my best friends and eventually we dated. It was the toughest relationship because we were incredibly compatible except I was faced with growing and taking on responsibilities that most 18 year old girls do not face.  The next four years E stayed by my side and most people thought we’d get married. Unfortunately, I was not ready for that.  There are many components to why not and why we broke up, mostly my fault. See I have always been good at destroying relationships. It has always been easier to walk away. The most important reason is that no one should have to go through my pains because I have to.  E and I broke up in 2006-2007.  He deserved better. He needed someone normal, someone to give him what I could not. It was hard because even after the brake up, we kept in touch and at times we even slept together. It was hard to let go of four years.

List of things in the four years

1. I had a 3.5gpa

2. I was homecoming queen

3. I got a scholarship

4. I got into every school I applied to

5. I began to date E

6. My mother disappeared

7. I took care of my brothers

8. I was homeless

9. I was still dancing Tahitian dancing b/ the Sencil family let us do it no cost

10. I moved in to my best friend parents’ house

11. I worked illegally

12. I had 3 jobs

13. I took legal guardianship for my siblings

14. I moved in with E to our own apartment along with my brother.

15. We got a dog (Tug)

16. We broke up

Being an older sister taking a role of a mother was not easy. I had long working hours and no sleep, always tracking down my brothers. At times they went in and out of juvenile detention. Making sure they went to school and mediating when they fought.

This story is not for anyone to feel sorry for me. This story is to tell E that without him I would not have ever been able to survive that stage in my life. Thank you for being patient. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving my family no matter the disasters. Thank you for all the rides to Target, all our furniture building because it was all form Ikea. Thank you for making me laugh and for creating “heavy Hands”. Thank you for sleeping with me in the car. Thank you for all that you did. I’m sorry I could not give you more.

I always knew you’d be happy and I know you found that.