Nowhere but up By:Pattie Mallette (Teen edition)

ONE

There are some memories,the painful ones you'd rather forget, that lie still for years. Hauntingly quiet. Crouching behind smiles, laughter, and good times, but eventually even dark secret must leave their hiding place and come out. And my story has included its shares of dark secret. As I've gotten older, I've needed courage to face farts of my early years, because sometimes you have to go through your pass to get to your future.

My father was an alcoholic who followed in the footsteps of his father. I don't know much about my father because he left when I was 2 years old. I do know he was violent. My father even pushed my mom around when she was pregnant with me. I've learned from talking to other family members that my dad was like a chameleon. While others saw him as a loving, charming, and gentle husband and father,we saw his dark side.

My mom, Diane, was the oldest of ten children. She met my dad and she got pregnant when she was 16. They started a new life together in the city of Timmins, Ontario, Canada, before eventually moving to Stratford, a ten-hour drive away.

My brother,Chris, was born in 1967, followed just 18 months later by Sally,, the sister I never, when Sally was 5 years old, Her life was tragically cut short when she was hit by A car in the street in from of our house. My mom was 4 months pregnant with me at the time.

My mom and I haven't always been close, but my heart breaks today when I think about the agonizing grief she went through , the pain that never goes away when you lose a child. that she endured that loss while she was pregnant- how do you mourn one child while prepating to give your life to another?

Often wondered if Sally's death had anything to do with the disconnect I always felt between me and my mother. For years the Emotional detachment between the two of us had me convinced I was adopted, because I always felt like I didn't belong.

Every now and then something would drive that Powerful felling to the surface and I'd go on a rampage. I remember one time as a teen when I frantically search the house for a piece of evidence---- anything that would confirm I was adopted. I had convinced myself my birth mother was somewhere out there. And that maybe she was even looking for me. I threw open every cupboard in the kitchen, rattling the glasses and China like an aftershock. I. Opened and slammed shut desk and dresser drawers Throughout the house. There had to be something somewhere.just one measly document.I rummage through closets, toasting aside old shoes, musty sweaters, and Dusty boxes of God-knows-knows-what. I turned the house upside down that day.
Finally, in desperation, I cried to my mom, "I know i'm adopted! Stop lying to me. just tell me where the papers are .I know it's true." My mom must have thought I was nuts "Stop it," she begged. "what are you talking about?" She grabbed a pair of photos and shove them in my face, comparing our baby pictures side-by-side. "you look just like me! Why would you even think you're adopted?" But I couldn't stop thinking about it.and I couldn't calm down.something in me was still convinced I didn't belong. This was not my home .she was not my mother.
Where did these feelings come from? And why were they so strong?
My feeling of being disconnected didn't just show up out of nowhere. I was two when my dad left us. And his abandonment ripped a hole in my heart-one that began filling with thoughts and feelings that would scar my identity and self-worth.
Today, I can still close my eyes and feel the pain in my heart when he walked out. I was young, but I still remember it clearly,as if it happened yesterday. in fact, it's my earliest childhood memory.I remember my brother and me standing by the front door, blinking our big eyes and looking up to our father as he pulled on his jacket. He looks so serious. Where's he going? Why he is taking a big suitcase? Mommy? As my dad knelt down before the two of us, he handed me a parting gift, I Thumbelina doll. When I touched her plastic skin and looked into her big eyes that stared back at mine, I decided she was my best friend. As long as i had her, she never left my side.
"I Love you so much," daddy began. "but I have to move far away." He hugged each of us and slowly stood up, looking like a looming giant next to the toddler me. "I'll always love you." As he turned his back to me, I could see his big hand pause On the knob of the front door. It felt like an eternity passed before he Finally twisted the Knob, opened the door, and walked out of our apartment. As the door slowly closed behind him, my heart reached out. I was too confused to actually cry out, but on the inside I was screaming for my dad. Don 't leave! Come back. Please, I need you .but it was too late. my daddy was gone.I wouldn't see him again until I was nine years old.