Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee… This is a memory that wasn’t pleasant, but… one that doesn’t bother me now… I look back on my young life… not understanding ‘why’… now, I don’t even question ‘why?’
I know, now… it was to prepare me to be very strong for what life what going to bring me through the years. No matter how bad… nothing was as bad as losing my only child. I must not have ‘had enough bad things to happen to make me strong enough’ to lose my child. I write always in memory of… Tommy.
My memories are the ‘colors of my life’, my stories. Don’t ever feel sorry for me… I never felt sorry ‘for me’, even as a little child. I just ‘knew’ it was supposed to be like that. I always remember ‘I wasn’t the only child’ who lived in Hell… the difference being that I … write my life… I can’t write theirs. But… I see their little faces in my mind, also. I never forget.
Happy Birthday To Me…
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
I was excited! It was my birthday, and it was going to my first birthday party!
Actually, not just my birthday party… it was my half-sister’s birthday party, too. You see, our birthday was on the same date… she was exactly one year younger than I.
Valentine’s Day… that was our birthday, as well as … Valentine’s Day. I’d never had a birthday party in my entire life!
I was going to be 14 years old… my sister was going to be 13. There was going to be a big cake, ice cream, lots of good foods, music… dancing!
The hardwood floors had a beautiful sheen. We knew how to wax a floor with Johnson’s Paste Wax… we put the wax on the floor, then buffed it with soft cloths. The house was immaculate… always.
My step-mother, and two half-sisters, and I… kept a beautiful house. It was decked out for our birthday party. The den was a huge room with lots of sparkling-clean windows. They reflected the lights in the room, making all look festive.
The den had a big floor, this would be where everyone would be dancing. There were over-stuffed chairs, couches… lots of places for everyone to sit.
The party began with lots of young people arriving on time… everyone was laughing, talking. The music began, boys began dancing with the girls. I was asked to dance… I had no sooner begun to dance when one of my half-sisters told me to go into the kitchen.
I walked to the kitchen… it was at the far end of the house. It was well away from the party in the den. My father was in the kitchen, so was my step-mother. Both told me that I had to stay in the kitchen, not come back to the party.
To this day… I can’t remember ‘why’ I couldn’t stay at the birthday party. It was my first, only birthday party… it lasted all of maybe ten minutes.
I sat in the kitchen that night… I looked at all the dishes that were beginning to stack up on the counter top. I got up, began washing dishes as I listened to the music in the distance. I could hear laughter, squeals of happiness.
I somehow, understood the party wasn’t ever meant for me. I felt such pain inside my heart… I was the outsider in that house. I knew that one day I was going to run away from there.
I lived in a beautiful home there, I dressed in very nice clothes… we all made a beautiful family. No one could see looking at us… that I was the outsider. No one could see that I wasn’t wanted.
I never told anyone how unhappy I was… in fact, I accepted how I was treated. I didn’t think to complain to anyone. I was afraid if I did, I would have to face the wrath of my father, step-mother.
I never got a birthday present that night, nor got to go back to the birthday party. I did get to help clean up all… when everyone went home. Happy Birthday to me.