…1980
I was ten when I met her and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Even the movie stars of the time had nothing on her. Her long sandy blonde hair caressed her thin but full face, her piercing green eyes peeking through her feathered bangs. She stood five feet five inches tall but to me she was a giant. I can’t remember why I thought she was so big, so much larger than life but she was. I didn’t just gaze up at her with my adoring eyes but I also felt my neck strain as I watched her atop the pedestal I placed her upon. She was everything I needed in one person and I sat overwhelmed by her most of the time.
I knew her through my younger sister’s best friend. Her name was Linda; a name I would associate with safety and love. My dad had started traveling to Rockford, IL during the week and would only be home on weekends and he needed someone to stay with us. Tonya wasn’t quite old enough to be left with that responsibility so he employed Linda. I came home from school to see her sitting in the dining room with my dad discussing what he needed, what she would be expected to do, and so forth. She sat looking at him, smiling and nodding, occasionally peering at me with the same smile. I can still see her sitting there. My initial reaction was one of pause, caution, concern. I had never seen her before that day; I had no idea who she was. For all intents and purposes she could have been someone who rented me for the day.
After they spoke for another fifteen minutes or so she came into the living room where I had finally settled, watching tv and snacking on chips. She came in and sat next to me, took a handful of chips and just watch tv with me without saying a word. She would giggle now and again at something that was said or done but other than that she never spoke a word. Once the show was over she looked at me, patted me on the leg, stood and left. My dad walked into the room and said, “That’s your new babysitter while I’m in Rockford.” He went into the kitchen, grabbed a beer and got lost in the can as the next show began.
She changed my life. In one singular gesture, in one singular promise, she changed me, even if she never knew. She had been babysitting for months when we got the monthly HBO guide of the movie playing throughout the month. The Rose starring Bette Midler was set play that month. I can still recall how excited she was to see it. We had missed the night it premiered but she was determined that she and I would see it that Saturday night. She kept saying I promise, I promise you we will see it together, no matter what. I didn’t believe, at all. I had no reason to.
Saturday came around, she was gone most of the day, I can’t remember why. My cousin in law had come over for some reason and we were hanging out playing tag. I was running through the trailer, rounding a corner a bit too sharply and my foot made contact with the hutch her had in the dining room. I stopped; fell to the floor clutching my foot. I couldn’t cry at that time, Tina was still very active and I switched for a few minutes while she cried for me. I limped over to the couch where I took my sock off, certain I would see blood and gore from the amount of pain I was in but was only met with a purple fourth toe on my left foot. I stared at it for the longest time, in awe of something trivial causing so much pain. As I sat there rubbing the section of foot just above the toe Linda walked in. She saw my toe and immediately ran over to me. She checked the toe out, went into the kitchen returning with a towel full of ice, placed the ice on my toe and looked at me with sincere concern. I reassured her I was ok and then she lowered her head to avoid eye contact. I knew what was coming, I was prepared. It didn’t make a bit of difference to me; I didn’t understand why she was making a show of it. She looked up and said she would be late, she had a date, but she swore she would be back by the time the movie started. I just nodded and looked at the towel. Her tenderness was alien to me. I dropped all pretense of anticipation or want. I let her leave, I let her know with my silence I didn’t expect her to be there and I would sit and watch the show as I promised myself I would.
Eight o’clock rolled around, I sat on the love seat and watched the movie begin. As the beginning credits began I heard a car screech to a halt in front of our trailer. I leaned forward slightly so I could see outside and I saw Linda dash out of the car, run up the steps, and stopped just inside the doorway and looked at me.
“I told you I would be here.” She said as she made her way into the kitchen and return with a tub full of hot water with Epsom salt and throughout the movie, the whole movie, she sat on the floor in front of me, my foot in the tub of Epsom salt, and she rubbing my foot. I had never known anything so precious or so honest in my life. She gave me so much of herself and told me everyday how good I was.
One evening I knew for her sure she would be leaving my life completely when she and my dad got into a fight. It was something so stupid but he made a big deal of it. I lay on the hide a bed in the living room waiting for him to tell her to never come back. I closed my eyes, begging in the back of my mind, chanting over and over ‘please don’t go’ and hoping the way only a wounded child can, when I heard him say he would give one more chance.
A few minutes later she came into the living room and for whatever reason I pretended to be asleep. I had gotten pretty good at it. And I listened, “I promise to be better for you. You deserve so much greatness in this world. I wish I could be that person you absolutely need since your mom left and I know how much you hurt. I can see in your eyes how much pain you are in all the time. You have to let go of that anger or it will rule your life. I know this because it happened to me. And now I seek love anywhere I can get it. Don’t be like me. I love you so much. I couldn’t love more unless you were my own child.” The whole while she spoke to me in that soft voice she rubbed my head. After Jonathan I never felt close to anyone but she got closer than most at that time.
I saw her years ago sitting in a hospital waiting room waiting to hear some news about her mom. My dad had been taken into the ER and I was waiting to hear news on him. I couldn’t speak to her. I felt so ashamed that I never lived up to the person she hoped I would become. I was 23, living with my girlfriend, no job, no prospect, no hope for much of a future and I couldn’t look at her. That was the last time I saw her.
I can close my eyes and see her. I can feel her hands and her words and her promises falling on me, a safety blanket from my past. For a short time she made me feel so safe, so wanted, so protected in the world I knew. When I think of her I always wish I had said thank you the last time I saw her. I’m not sure she would even know what I was talking about. But when you hold something as fragile as a wounded child in your hands, the only thing they will ever judge you on is how you handle them. And she always handled me as a prized piece of art.
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