tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post4245863581059396535..comments2024-03-28T14:45:34.423-04:00Comments on 37 Paddington: London Child37paddingtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-26147550726111961142013-04-02T09:59:50.550-04:002013-04-02T09:59:50.550-04:00I am gobsmacked by this post, how did I miss it? H...I am gobsmacked by this post, how did I miss it? How long have I been following and reading your blog? It seems like I've know you always, and yet there are so many stories I've missed. I never cease to be amazed by the common threads that bind us here.<br /><br />My inner broken child knows the pain and confusion you put to paper. My grown up messed up self continues to write about these seminal events, trying to capture the feel and smell and ache of it all, I guess to exorcise the ghosts, to make it go away, to put it on a shelf and be done with it. And yet, I can't stop wishing to reach out to my little self, to comfort her somehow, to try to pull her out of her painfully observant shell and help her engage in her life not as a passive and unworthy victim, but as a happy child. I was rarely a carefree child, unless lost in a book, and crippling self consciousness and self loathing from my earliest memories are among the culprits. I am fascinated in my later years by the rippling effects these things have had on my life and my life choices, and wondering if those painful years were the price paid for these ones. I'll never know, but I do keep writing about them, trying to sort them out or find a stone unturned, a clue or a snippet I missed, seeking to understand now what I was unable to comprehend then. My most traumatic year was in the third grade, and a few years ago, at a reunion with a classmate, I talked about how damaging the mean teacher was to me, and my friend laughed and said Jesus Mel, it was third grade - let it go! I realized she was right, but she might as well have asked me to cut off a finger, because those years are entwined so tightly in me I wouldn't know where to begin. So I write, and I write and I write. And the best part of all is I read and I read, and I find words like yours to read and I gain so much comfort from the sharing. It's the next best thing to being able to comfort that sad child.<br />xoMelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10114884092474969555noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-69843826303747345012011-04-09T09:35:12.764-04:002011-04-09T09:35:12.764-04:00ellen, that you are here, that you keep coming by ...ellen, that you are here, that you keep coming by to say hey, that is everything. thank you, friend.<br /><br />Marylinn, thank you for reading and sharing, and for being here.<br /><br />N2, glad you stopped by, too. I am enjoying discovering your blogs. Thanks for the kind words here.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-11268733583876334362011-04-08T06:06:14.407-04:002011-04-08T06:06:14.407-04:00I love the way you have recorded the memories brou...I love the way you have recorded the memories brought up by the wooden door. You brought me right back to the four year-old level with the words and images you used and yet, in the end, gave me some of the perspective of your adult self. Really nice essay. Glad I stopped by to catch up today. x0 N2N2https://www.blogger.com/profile/09508740809219902631noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-69157141496167897932011-04-05T22:23:06.280-04:002011-04-05T22:23:06.280-04:00Your words allowed us to share every moment of thi...Your words allowed us to share every moment of this with you...the chill of such a different geography, absence of the familiar and I would have felt terribly abandoned. When we view these times as you have, stepping back, it is not that the sting is removed but, as you say, they are set in front of us, not left to haunt us from within. I think of a child sensing exile but not knowing why or what to call it. My love to your resilient child self.Marylinn Kellyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02759437467691163658noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-91495117369513846732011-04-05T11:55:01.295-04:002011-04-05T11:55:01.295-04:00Angella, you write so beautifully and with such em...Angella, you write so beautifully and with such emotion. This is one of those posts where I felt it so deeply, but can't think of anything worthy to say.<br /><br />Poor little tiny you. Even though I know that those sad memories combined with happy ones to make you the wonderful person you are today, I'm still sorry you had to go through that.~ellen~https://www.blogger.com/profile/00315658592077559215noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-49985294447879452512011-04-05T08:17:55.496-04:002011-04-05T08:17:55.496-04:00Hey C., we have to have lunch! Lots to catch you u...Hey C., we have to have lunch! Lots to catch you up on.<br /><br />Gabriele, thanks for that beautiful heart, my sweet artist friend.<br /><br />Jody, a Kiwi brought up on the beach is probably closer to what felt normal to me than anything! It's always so interesting to me the way our lives a world apart can intersect. Thank you for the open hearted comment.<br /><br />Debra W, i would just love if the little girl you and the little girl me could sit down together and color with that box of crayons. i think we could remake the world. and yes, that teacher showed me i was strong. so i do thank her. love to you.<br /><br />Miss A, thanks for the reminder that no matter what pain we carry, we can be happy, too. it all exists together all the time, doesn't it? keep writing and sharing, my friend!<br /><br />Isabella, i cherish our friendship and the way we are always there for each other, no questions or judgements, with our so similar personality structures! i am so glad we found each other all those years ago, fretting over our quiet, watchful girls. Look at them now! Much love to you, dear friend.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-73736762279118382011-04-04T23:41:44.768-04:002011-04-04T23:41:44.768-04:00You are my treasured friend and I am inspired by y...You are my treasured friend and I am inspired by your words each day. These memories emerge painfully, leaving me teary and a little breathless. Yet, I take comfort from the transformation, hurt becomes creation and allows for growth; and you have a gift for generosityIsabellahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13588429001267182519noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-64958078440814773832011-04-04T23:04:42.577-04:002011-04-04T23:04:42.577-04:00I have done therapy, am now pursuing group therapy...I have done therapy, am now pursuing group therapy twice a week (or will be once I come back to NY this week). It's helping a lot. It brought me hope and faith in myself. I am hoping the pain will slowly fade, but despite the sad undertone, I am happier than ever. And I am so psyched to be able to find positive influences everywhere in my life (whether my amazing aunts and family, or the virtual mothers who inspire me: Katie Granju, The girl Who, You, amongst others.)<br />Thanks for visiting and stay strong, but keep on sharing.Miss Ahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04604338368451615274noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-27720260984074792682011-04-04T22:05:33.661-04:002011-04-04T22:05:33.661-04:00Oh wow. Your writing is so raw, it brings tears, b...Oh wow. Your writing is so raw, it brings tears, but tears of hope. I see the pain, but I see also the beauty in your life, your loving parents, family.<br />How did you do it? How did you become the amazing wife, mother, woman you are today? I understand the hurt, I feel it, I know it so well, but how do you leave it behind?<br />I agree with one of your comments, when you write about the pain it can no longer hurt you as much. I am only learning this. Writing, talking and sharing means that I am doing better. Hurting much less. Thanks for reading about my friend David, and thank you for the comment. I do miss and love my beautiful Dave.Miss Ahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04604338368451615274noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-61789389519833001102011-04-04T18:38:40.064-04:002011-04-04T18:38:40.064-04:00First off, sweet Angella, the little girl in me is...First off, sweet Angella, the little girl in me is sending the little girl in you an enormous hug and a fresh box of 64 count Crayola crayons!<br /><br />I am glad that you write these stories down because it brings them into the light where the power they once had is somewhat diminished. You should write that teacher a thank you note for showing all that she could never be and bringing out all that you could. As much as I wish things could have been different for you, I am glad that they brought you into your own light where your beauty could shine freely.<br /><br />You are wonderful, my friend.<br /><br />Hugs,<br />DebbieDebrahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05328458241519464529noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-69263618140691844262011-04-04T15:54:28.329-04:002011-04-04T15:54:28.329-04:00Wow, Angela, this is an amazing piece and I feel q...Wow, Angela, this is an amazing piece and I feel quite tearful as I read it. You are an amazing writer and that fact you can transport me - a Kiwi bought up on the beach - right there with you to that school, right beside that fence, looking up to the sky is incredible. I am so glad I found your blog.About Last Weekendhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04716571630418078937noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-30104886364507979632011-04-04T12:18:40.908-04:002011-04-04T12:18:40.908-04:00All of your experiences in life, have made you who...All of your experiences in life, have made you who you are today.<br />A wonderful, sensitive, compassionate, gifted, beautiful woman! It just breaks my heart that some of those experiences were as painful and truly sad, as you described in this post.<br />I love you, my friend.<br /><br />☆¨´`'*°☆.¸.☆¨´`'*°☆.<br />(: ․☆´`'*¸.☆¨´`'*°☆.․:)<br />`☆. ♥♥ A HUG ♥♥~ .☆<br />․ ․`'☆.¨´¸☆¨¸.¸.☆¨<br />․ ․ ․ ․ `'*☆.¸.☆Gabriele Agustinihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10837967050743530302noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-19985558438807794932011-04-04T11:25:32.345-04:002011-04-04T11:25:32.345-04:00wow. that story revealed so much about so may thin...wow. that story revealed so much about so may things in just a few short paragraphs. but, most importantly, it really gave me a peak into your world and how you handle certain situations, even then.Candice Frederickhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16195801629178470295noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-69087177347402003872011-04-04T08:47:34.708-04:002011-04-04T08:47:34.708-04:00susan t., you said it exactly, and with such poetr...susan t., you said it exactly, and with such poetry, yes. it is just like that. thank you.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-27631461776896147122011-04-04T08:46:16.809-04:002011-04-04T08:46:16.809-04:00oh ms. moon, don't let your soul shrivel over ...oh ms. moon, don't let your soul shrivel over this. i am fine. it is just a story now. because yes, we survive and it lets us know forever after that we can. love to you, sweet woman.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-34403091149297773232011-04-04T08:45:16.275-04:002011-04-04T08:45:16.275-04:00Rebecca, thank you. I find that when I write a thi...Rebecca, thank you. I find that when I write a thing down, put it in front of me and look it square in the face, i give it a life outside of myself, where it can no longer haunt me. so I will probably keep writing things down. and my accent these days is sort of scrubbed of distinctive corners and sharp rises, except when I am talking to another jamaican. my coworkers think i'm bilingual or whatever the word is for being fluent in two accents!37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-31579335042444430312011-04-04T07:57:38.131-04:002011-04-04T07:57:38.131-04:00you speak beautifully, eloquently to the outsider,...you speak beautifully, eloquently to the outsider, which i daresay includes many of us here.<br />the memories of being 4 and 5 are the earliest, clear memories for me.<br />i suspect that the age, coupled with the dramatic change and emotional impact, embedded those years like amber in the geology of your mind.susan t. landryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12454487318141469849noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-36623223040801975302011-04-04T00:09:30.512-04:002011-04-04T00:09:30.512-04:00I share too many similar memories to be able to be...I share too many similar memories to be able to be objective about this at all. <br />Painful. My soul shrivels tight. <br />Well. We survive. We go on. <br />But still.Ms. Moonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09776404747858099919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-71507190831977549382011-04-03T23:24:28.234-04:002011-04-03T23:24:28.234-04:00Angella, heartbreaking and beautifully described. ...Angella, heartbreaking and beautifully described. The loneliness and self castigation we suffer the cruelty of children and adults too knowing or otherwise. I hope you continue your journey here on the page. Do you still have an accent? I have found Jamaican/British accents to be the most melodious I have ever heard.<br />RebeccaRadish Kinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06534752971317927559noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-43584391065581987562011-04-03T22:14:38.135-04:002011-04-03T22:14:38.135-04:00deb, i wouldn't leave my children like that ei...deb, i wouldn't leave my children like that either, but nor did my parents know of my distress because i never shared it. i really do understand that they thought they were leaving us with two of the most loving people in the world, but no doubt i was too young to be left at all. much later, when i was grown, i finally shared with my mom how i had experienced that time, and she cried. what can i say? parents trusted the extended network back then. several of my cousins lived with us during different periods when i was growing up, some of them for a year or more. i remember a new family moved in across the street from us at one point, this was in jamaica, and there were so many children of different ages and appearances at our house they thought we were a boarding house. i don't blame my parents at all. my brother was entirely fine and i guess you could say i came through it okay, too. but i appreciate your reading and commenting and feeling. thank you.37paddingtonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12400464105403622384noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107151958453669111.post-6072501054451465872011-04-03T21:52:49.864-04:002011-04-03T21:52:49.864-04:00I don't know what to say,
this was exquisite a...I don't know what to say,<br />this was exquisite and fascinating and heartbreaking all at the same time.<br />I marvel at these pieces of your life that you share...<br />and I feel in this instance that I want to befriend and hug and mother that little girl you. <br />It is interesting how different children can adapt to situations so very differently . I would never leave my children like that , but on paper it all sounds perfectly fine I suppose. <br /><br />You reminded me of my own school bathroom terror when I was in kindergarten... I'd forgotten that experienceAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15924061349390319473noreply@blogger.com