This is a series of posts ......it's about real struggle..real life...real pain...and getting through to the other side....thank you to all my guests for helping me find my voice...
I am honored That ANGELA CHASE chose BONGO IS ME to share her story....
Thank you ANGELA CHASE.......
A
Solitary Christmas
I had kicked the wall in anger with my slippered foot. Steve
picked me up and threw me into the Christmas tree. Never in our years together
had he been physically violent with me. What made him hate me so much? We had
been arguing over his infidelity.
Abhorrence for him held back my tears. I wanted to strike him,
but I knew God saw the incident, and He would take care of it for me.
A few days later we got into another argument when his mother only sent my
Christmas gifts. I opened them right away because it didn’t matter; Christmas
didn’t matter.
Selecting a few T-Shirts, I threw the rest of the gifts in a bag and brought
them to the church. I know that his mom went to all the trouble of picking out
gifts for me, even after the divorce was taking place, but the objects seemed
empty. They held no
meaning.
For once, my material
items that I treasured above all other things, including people, seemed like a
pile of junk. I decided to give them away to the church for other people who
didn’t receive gifts.
The meaning of Christmas was
lost in my heart as I slouched in Mass. Jovial parishioners filed out.
Christmas blessings were exchanged. I was not a part of the world as I stood in
the shadows concealing my bruises and scratches.
Christmas is a day of family, a day of sharing gifts; a day of joy.
I was alone. My tree lay
empty.
My heart was broken.
Deep under the covers I
cried myself to sleep.
I had never experienced
a Christmas alone. My heart bled for all those people who were just as alone.
Now I understood how difficult the holidays were for those who had no one to
share them with. I finally understood what Christmas was really about and found
myself dreaming of Christmas past and longed to walk through the portal of
time.
Mom was heading to Phoenix to
work on consolidating an office. A few days after Christmas, she picked me up
so I could spend time with her and Michael, her new husband, and preview the
area. I decided that I was going to move to Phoenix. It held the most
opportunity for starting a new life. I even picked out a rental.
We went to Mesa to see the duplex. Exiting the freeway, I glanced at the
neighborhood. Low Rent/Free Utilities signs hung from modest apartment
buildings, dilapidated houses with barred windows lined the street on both
sides. Well, this is directly off the freeway, I thought. It has to get better.
Then I saw my street. I was in the heart of poverty. There was a pawn shop on
one side of the street and an AT&T building on the other. Thankfully my
duplex was behind the AT&T building.
The duplex faced two
apartment complexes. One looked like gangs ran the place, the other seemed
quiet. The rest of the neighborhood was full of older homes in a variety of
conditions and a house that was a burned out shell.
What disturbed me more
was the police car sitting in front of the “gang central” apartments and the
helicopter circling overhead.
Unable to catch the
maintenance worker who was putting in my new countertops, I could only look at
the back yard.
So far, I wasn’t impressed, especially for the rent I was
paying.
“Do you think they have other places you could check out while you are here?”
Mom asked. I could tell she was biting her tongue on other comments she wanted
to make.
“No.” It was almost a
sob.
“This is all she has in my
price range. I don’t have a choice if I want to keep my dogs.”
“Well, maybe it’s not so bad
—”
“You live here then!”
“We’ll call the realtor and
express our concerns. Maybe she knows the neighborhood, and we just came on a
bad day.”
I honestly think she was worried for me living there, but knew as well as I
did, I couldn’t do better at the present time and silenced her unease.
When she
mentioned I could give the dogs back to Steve and rent an apartment in a better
part of town, I told her that wasn’t an option.
We headed back to Scottsdale and decided to eat. I sat fuming. Why does he get
my beautiful house and live in a good neighborhood while I have to live in that
place?
God, this isn’t fair!
When the waiter came by, I
ordered a Daiquiri with twice the alcohol and a bowl of soup.
This was the one
time in my life I wanted to be in a haze.
My mom just looked at me. “That isn’t going to solve your problems.”
“No, but for a few hours I’ll
feel better.”
Nothing further was said.
The next day we were able to see inside the rental. My mood didn’t improve. The
tile throughout the rooms was new and a pretty Tuscan brown color. Walls were
freshly painted a soft cream, and three tall, rounded windows accented the
living room. The charm, however, stopped there. The kitchen and bathroom did
have the updated countertops the realtor said they were installing, and they
were nice, but the cupboards were original 1980’s laminated wood festooned with
caked on grime, grease and a mystery dirt. A damp, musty scent permeated from
under the sinks, and water damage was evident.
If anything needed replaced, it was the shower doors. Green stick-on snowflakes
were a permanent decoration to the ancient doors that didn’t slide easily and
stuck before closing all the way. The kitchen stove, also dated, was missing
the oven temperature knob. Although I was delighted to hear there were laundry
hookups, the laundry room was located outside in the back of the duplex.
Walking down the narrow side yard, I was greeted with an ornamental orange tree
and a tiny dirt yard.
I had no choice but to rent
this place, but I made it clear to God that this wasn’t my new home; this was
temporary. I would make it livable, nothing more. I signed the papers and
secured the duplex with my deposit and rent check.
New Year’s Eve I sat with my mom and Michael in an empty hotel bar watching a
movie play softly in the background and munched on stale chips. Now, that was
an exciting way to ring in the New Year!
I was in bed before
midnight, but found no sleep between my racing mind and the obnoxious, drunken
pool party below our window.
For a few days I explored Scottsdale and Mesa,
then it was time to go
back to my cold, lonely home.
Read more of ANGELA CHASE HERE:
the the rest of the week we have work...
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