Growing up
In all of my awkwardness ©David L Page 2016
For those of you who knew me as I grew up, I preferred my own company – I would spend hours alone. I don’t recall thinking why that situation may have been – I guess it just seemed easier to be in my own company. Perhaps it was, as I reflect – as I re-situate my self back in time – due to the experiences I had had as a very young lad.
In all of my awkwardness, I wanted someone to hold, someone to love, someone to hold…..
My neighbourhood friends would snicker and tease me for as long as I can remember – in this house, and the previous one as well: “your mum is scary”, “your mum is a witch”. This perception started when my mum would yell down the street: “David – come home, come inside, come eat!” “Dinner!!”. At home I was used to hearing almost every day: “have you done your chores?”, “have you done your homework?”, “turn the TV off, go and play outside”, “come inside, it is getting dark, it is time to have a shower”, “put on a jumper, can’t you feel the cold?”. I recall thinking it must have been me, I must have been a bad kid – acting out – and in need of being controlled.
In all of my awkwardness, I wanted someone to hold, someone to love, someone to hold…..
As I got older – to be about this age – I recall wondering if my mother was actually still unwell. Even though she was no longer confined to bed, there were many conversations that centred around her back. From my perspective, it was mainly due to the way she talked, the way she acted, the way she interacted with me. I only recall seeing her relaxed or happy occasionally – often only for a split second. I recall therefore I still treated her as though she was still unwell, as I had learnt to in my first household, where she actually bedridden most of the time.
In all of my awkwardness, I wanted someone to hold, someone to love, someone to hold…..
I don’t recall ever having a family discussion and speaking about this. I guess in that era – or at least in our house – kids were not included in such conversations. In our household it was always “kids should be seen, and not heard”. I do recall that Dad was very protective of my mother, and tell me to be quiet if I was being rowdy; or he would hurry me along if mum was waiting for something to get done. I recall at some points in my life growing up, thinking to myself – “if I was a bad kid, then I needed to change, and be better”. The alternative – the yelling – just wasn’t worth it.
In all of my awkwardness, I wanted someone to hold, someone to love, someone to hold…..
I now realise in-situating my self back in that time and location – within our house – being at home was largely an uncomfortable experience. Certainly it was not a relaxing place. In my memory, it was as if we had egg shells all over the floor. I tried really really hard, as an eleven (11) year old to behave, to be quiet, to avoid those egg shells. But just sometimes, I relaxed and trod on one, and then … well… well… well…
I had never thought too much about why that situation may have been. I suppose I just accepted it. It was after all, all that I knew, all I that had; so I suppose I just accepted it, and tried hard to work within it, to be a better kid, and not cause problems for my parents.
In all of my awkwardness, I wanted someone to hold, someone to love, someone to hold…..