today i corresponded with my best friend in 2nd grade (and a few other scattered years). we have known each other for 29 years. we write a lot. but today we talked about some childhood perspectives. she thought i had her dream-life. she had no idea my mom was very depressed when i was young and that i made breakfast and lunch for myself and my little sisters every day, starting in grammar school. she had no idea i had a stay-in-bed mom. she thought my house was super awesome, that we had cable tv. but we didn't have any kind of tv at all until 1980. she didn't know i got laughed at for not knowing who chachi was in 2nd grade. she thought i had nice clothes growing up. she didn't know i bought them myself because i loved designer and my parents wouldn't buy me designer. she didn't know that i was able to work as a babysitter at a young age, because i was very tall (and thus seemed older), in order to get the designer clothes. i was as tall as my mom at age 9. she also didn't know that i was a thief and i stole a lot of the nice clothes. she certainly didn't know that i didn't stop that habit until the embarrassing age of 27.
i knew her family was poorer than mine, and although we lived in a nice 1970s tract house on the west side of town, my dad didn't work for years and we drank powdered milk for a while. i knew she was embarrassed of her house because she never wanted me to come over, only to come to my house (even though a screaming maniac dad lived there), and she would meet me at the end of her driveway when my mom would pick her up to come over. i knew she didn't have a phone for a long time when we were in grammar school...our moms communicated via passed note between she and i, about whether she could come over and spend the night or not. i did not know that she thought so highly of the hell that i felt i lived in. i did not think anything weird about her, and she did not say today, but i know, that that probably surprised her.
“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception” -A.H.
1 comment:
Jeez, you know, it's funny AND sad that we never really change. I'm still the nervous, never believing I'm good enough, don't look at me, kind of gal.
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