Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Chapter 9

Burning Love

This part and the upcoming parts get more difficult to write.

Today, I called my beautiful and brave sister, Karen. I didn't know Karen even existed or that I had a little sister until I was 40 years old. She was given up for adoption before she was a week old. 
The Welfare Department made my mom give her up for adoption.
Anyway, I called her to see if she would be a support system for me to go out to the old farmhouse where all of this took place and be my "wing-man." 
Of course, she says Yes!
I want to go see the old place but could never do it alone. I would ask my son, who would go but I'm afraid the thought of him and his 3 babies much the size and ages that we were, seeing me possibly fall apart, didn't sit well with me. I was happy Karen agreed. She will be there for me and I know I can draw strength from her.
I want to take pictures of the place. Maybe film it for YouTube. The house and if I could muster up the nerve, ask the owners if we can go inside. 
To see the layout would be such a good but scary visual.
I'll do what I can to make it happen. Going back there will be tough.
I am sure the skies will cloud over and the gates of hell will open if I see it again....

As I said, our mom had contacted the Welfare Department and asked to see us.  I have no idea if she got to see my brother or how Barbara and Bob explained his absence. All I know is that we were told mom wanted to see us. This nightmare was going to stop.
I could hear Bob and Barb discussing it. They hated my mother. Hated her even more than they hated us kids if that was possible. 
They wouldn't allow us to ever say her name... Zoraida.
We were made to call her "Her."
"Her" wanted to see us but she had an absolute fear of Bob and Barb and for good reason. 
She had lived with the man. She knew his evil heart and of his abuse. His need to control and to hurt. Later I learned that Barbara had said some pretty vile hurtful things to our mom once, before we went to live with them.
All I knew was somehow, someway, we were going to get to see our beautiful mother.

The day arrived. She pulled up in the driveway but didn't leave the car. The windows were rolled up tight.
There was a man behind the wheel. 
Inside the house I was completely polarized by seeing her. 
There she was! Just outside the door. Sitting in a car! I could see the smoke from her cigarette swirling inside the car. Behind the window.
My mom!
Beautiful hair and makeup. I have never felt so relieved and happy. This was all going to be over soon. I could crawl in that car, push my sister in and slam the doors. Escape!

Barbara comes up behind us. Her thick fat hands grab us by our hair. One in each hand.
She wraps her hands  deep into our hair and twists. Hard.
Barbara is a big strong woman. Her hate for Zoraida and for us seemed to make her stronger still.

"I'll go with you. You will do as I say, do you hear me?" As she twists the hair of the back of our heads as tight as she can and jerks upward until our faces are looking into hers. Our necks twisted and our hair keeping us locked to her as we feel her body pressed close behind us.

"You tell that Mexican bitch puta you don't want to see her. You tell her you like it here with Bob. You tell her to go away and never come back. You tell her you hate her and you never ever want to see her again. Tell her she's a bad mother. You tell her that she's not your mom. Tell her you don't call her mom anymore. You tell her that you call her "HER." 
Norma and I are crying. Sobbing. 
How can we do that?
This is our MOM. 
I am silently pleading... Mom, get out of the car and get this horrible woman away from us. Make the hurting STOP! 
Get out and help us.
Barbara jerks our heads and the handfuls of our hair tighter.

"Do it!" 
"You either do as I said or when that bitch/whore leaves, you will pay the price."
We begin to walk towards the parked car. My feet barely feel the ground as I am propelled forward. Barbara has me by my hair in her fists so tightly that I am held up by her clenched hand in my hair.
I can see my mom seated there but her face is facing to the front. 

"Look at us. Do something!"

I feel as if I am about to face a firing squad.
She doesn't see us until we are right at the car window. The window rolls down and Barbara's grip tightens to the point of being unbearable. I can feel my hair ripping out of my head, her grip is so tight, her hand twisted and wrapped around it for better control of our necks.
"Say it", she hisses at us. 
I feel like a puppet on a string. 
Together, Norma and I do as we were told.
We look into our mom's eyes and repeat what Barbara told us to say...

"We never want to see you again. We hate you. You are not our mother any more."

I remember standing there and my heart felt like it has just been shattered by the look on her face. We have crushed her. 
Zoraida hands each of us a tiny box carefully wrapped in silver paper with a neat little bow. 
"Open the boxes and always remember that I love you. Always." she says as a tear rolls down each rouged cheek.
"No matter what, I love you kids," she says in her heavy accent.
Barbara jerks our heads even tighter as she sees our reactions to our mother's words. Her hands behind our heads and unable to be seen from the front.

The car window rolls up and our chance at being with our mom is gone. All hope of her saving us vanished. 
The car pulls away.
Barbara's grip finally loosens on our heads and pushes us to the ground as she lets go. Her hands are filled with our hair as the wind blows it away in wisps. Gone.
Our mother is gone.

We each have the tiny box she gave us in our hands. Forgotten.
Barbara hasn't forgotten. She grabs them away from us.
"You don't need these!"
"You won't be seeing her again so I will see what "Her" gave you.
Probably shit. Just like Her. Shit. 
Boxes of shit."

We watch as she opens each box. My sister has a beautiful necklace on a chain with a matching bracelet. A pretty blue stone on a delicate silver chain. Mine the same only in pink. The most beautiful necklace and bracelet I had ever seen. The translucent pink of the stones so soft and pretty like my mom.  Tears run down my face. 
How hurt my mom was at our words.....

I will never forget her look of sadness as long as I live.
In my heart, she was never "Her." 
She was never a bad mom. 
I didn't hate her. She was my mom.
Barbara sees our hurt, but for her, she's not finished. She has the pretty blue stone necklace and bracelet and pretty pink stone set in her hand. The silver of the dainty chains glittering bright between her fingers.

"What a stupid woman. You don't need these," she grunts as she walks outside to the trash barrel and throws them into the fire.
For the one minute that I held those beautiful, carefully wrapped gifts from my mom in my hand, I knew. 
I knew that no matter what my mom had been through. No matter what words or hurt Barbara could inflict, I knew my Mom loved us.  Barbara could never take that from me. She could never burn the love from my heart. Never.


  1. Sweet Lana, every time I finish a Chapter, I shut my computer and run to my children and hold them. They probably think I'm nuts, but I can't help it. I never want them to feel an ounce of the pain you endured. Catching tiny glimpses into your life as a mom and grandma, I'm amazed! Your story is beyond heartbreaking, but you haven't let those horrendous circumstances leave you tainted. You're so strong to even think of going back there and if you do, I support you completely. Thank you for sharing your story, Lana. Lots of love to you and Henry! ~Shawna

  2. @Shawna
    Hold them as tight as you can and never let them go.
    My kids are 36 and 32 and there isn't ONE day that goes by that I don't tell them how much I love them. Grown men and they still tell me they love me no matter who is around. Love runs the world and makes miracles happen. I look at my grandchildren and can't even imagine them going thru this. It would destroy me.
    If Barbara and Bob did one thing... It was to show me how important it is to love. Not because of them but in spite of them.
    I hate my story except... It has a happy ending.
    I pray my husband does as well.
    Love you too, Shawna xo

  3. This just breaks my heart Lana! If I could travel back in time to just hold and hug that little girl and tell her and assure her that one day everything is going to be just fine and she will marry an amazing man and have 2 boys that adore her I totally would! I have a 13 yr old boy that's at an age where he "thinks" it's not "cool" to tell mom he loves her :/ but I try and tell him and show him that I do each and every day! I come from parents that to this day haven't told us that they love us and it's hard for them to show us any kind of affection because of they way they were brought up, but there is no need for them to do it because "I just know they do!" So just about 6 months ago I started to hug them and give them a kiss on the cheek every time i visit them (which at first felt awkward) but I see and feel in my heart the love they feel when I do that & it's PRICELESS! The love of a parent for their kids is something that's unexplainable. So Lana your mother zoraidas love for you I'm sure was enormous. God bless you and your family. (((hug))) ;)

  4. Oh Lana, Barb was a monster. How could a person have so much hate in them? You poor, poor little girls. It's a wonder you survived at all, no less became the glorious soul you are today.

  5. I cry every time I read a chapter. I know it needs to be told. It does remind us to hold our children more tighter. My grown son never had to doubt he was loved. I will be with you in spirit when you visit that evil den. Much love to you today. And always xxxooo

  6. Lana you have such a beautiful heart! love sonia

  7. Oh Lana, I could feel my heart being ripped out reading of you and your sister being told to lie to your mother, then for you to see her reaction, know her pain? Even as a child you saw and felt your mother's agony on hearing those words that you were forced to speak. What a jealous, hateful monster Barbara was. You are so brave Lana, immensely brave, especially to contemplate going back to the farmhouse. You have your own personal reasons for doing so - I guess putting some ghosts to rest in the process. Thank God you made it out of that life Lana, thank God you were able to survive and blossom into the beautiful lady you are. Lots of love always dearest Lana. :) xxxooo

  8. Lana,
    There's so much that doesn't make sense but I know beyond a doubt that God has taken care of those monsters. I hope Barb the Barbarian has those silver necklaces tight around her neck right now. Did you ever get to see your mom again and tell her you had to lie? I sure hope so. I have two grown children and they know their mom and dad love them. I was a stay at home mom for them because I was treated badly by a care taker when I was a child. I would never let my children stay with anyone else while I worked because of her. We didn't have a whole lot of money but I knew my kids were safe and loved 24/7. I pray for you as you venture back into the past and visit the place of your abuse. It's gonna be hard but you can do it if you think you must. I'm glad you found your little sister. That must have been a real joy for you. :) How is your sister that went through all this with you? Your brother? I hope they both came out of this as well as you did. God bless all of you. I hope Henry's test come out well this month. Please let us know.
    Love to you, Liz

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  10. Lana~
    I love you beyond words...

  11. My goodness...How utterly cruel those people were.
    You were strong even then little Lana.

    Maybe this is where your love for pink started...



  12. I hope they both rot in hell xxxJoolsxxx

  13. (((Lana)))I'm so sorry that all of this happened to you and your siblings--and your precious Mom. God bless you always, Lana. Big hugs,~Marilyn

  14. It makes one wonder how can one human being possess such hatred and anger and another possess such hope and love.
    No child should ever go through what you have gone through. I'm sure very few come out on the other side like you Lana.

  15. Lana, how is your husband doing? You both are in my prayers!

  16. You are such a strong woman Lana.
    I come and read your blog posts about your childhood and I literally feel sick and my heart breaks. I never knew that I could shed so many tears just by reading something and I read plenty. If there are people that don't believe that true evil walks in this world then all they have to do is read your story. But it is also a story of triumph and great blessings. I pray that the Lord sends so many blessings that you feel like you are totally wrapped up in them.

  17. An unbelievable & horrid woman. If there was a movie made with a character like her people would say she isn't believeable. Real life is much more scarier than horror movies. You've gone through hell & survived. God bless you. I'm almost scared to go on & read this.

  18. I'm sick with sadness Lana, reading this I could visualize the suffering and unspeakable misery you must have been going through. What should have been happy fun childhood memories at that pressures age became a nightmare of a terrifying existence. You are brave and courageous beyond belief, how did you learn to forgive and be so strong Lana love.

    Bible reading ....
    Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. God Bless You Lana ..Hugs and love always Margaret x x x

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