Deliverance from Depression: Early Childhood Memories - Part III

All right, here we go again ... Back to my childhood. And a little about my first school years. Now it's time to register some memories of my childhood after Daddy's death.

Kindergarten had not worked for me: it had been a nightmare to be in a strange place, in the presence of strangers, away from home, and, most of all, away from Mom. 

My aunt had also lost her husband to a car wreck about three years before Daddy's fatal accident. My uncle had been a crazy, cheerful man! He was a doctor. I remember when he brought living crabs to his house (they used to live in a house then) to make a crab boil; he let the kids (me and his three daughters) play with the crabs, which were tied to a long stick. It was a terrifying and exciting experience. I loved being around my uncle. But that was pretty much all a three-year-old (me) could remember.

After my uncle passed away, my aunt, three cousins, and maternal grandmother moved to the same apartment building close to us. Their apartment was on the first floor, ours on the third. No elevators. There, my Mom and my Aunt, the two widows, shared their sadness but also new life and hopes for the future. Despite the loss, they took solace in watching out for each other and their daughters. I loved being so close to my cousins, who were all girls; it was always nice to have my three older cousins around me.

First grade (the equivalent of second grade in The United States) was better. I attended my neighborhood's Baptist School, right across from my apartment building. Many activities involved music, hymns, theater, and art. As soon as the bell for recess rang, I would run to the front gate and scream for my aunt to bring me my snacks. Her apartment was on the ground floor of the same building in which we lived. She would usually bring me freshly mashed bananas, a little sugar powder, and a few other snacks.

Back to school, second grade was at a different private school in my neighborhood, just a few blocks from home. It was small, but I also enjoyed the plays, shows, and activities.

I can't remember precisely when Mom met this dentist and they started dating. He seemed to be a cool guy, very intelligent. He taught me how to draw using a technique of drafting lines vertically and horizontally (thus creating squares) over a drawing or picture, then trying to reproduce them on a sheet of paper with the same lines by carefully observing the parts of the original drawing and then drawing them in such a way that they would fit just so within the same squares. 

One day, the dentist, Mom, and I went for a walk in a park. We took my dog, 'Marujo,' on the leash. We noticed 'Marujo' was chewing on something. In a fit of rage, the dentist lifted 'Marujo' up by the leash and started choking it to make it spit out whatever was in its mouth. Mom got really distressed, asking him to please let go of the leash. He didn't until he almost choked my dog to death. That was the first of several incidents. The dentist was unpredictable and volatile.

By the age of nine, we moved to yet another apartment building in our city, not many miles from the previous one, but in another neighborhood much closer to the beach. I changed schools and started third grade at another private school. Even my aunt, grandma, and three cousins had moved to this new neighborhood, much to my joy.

Eventually, Mom decided to end her relationship with the dentist. She left him a written note, asking him to gather his belongings, and we traveled to one of our relatives' place in the countryside for a few days. When we returned home and opened the door, he was gone. A sense of relief and newly regained peace were in the air. With a sigh, Mom pronounced the words I had heard her say many times: "Blessed be our Lord Jesus Christ!" And I agreed, as was customary: "Forever be blessed!"

And one more chapter had been closed. One more page turned. 

Stay tuned...