Piper's Pandemonium: Meet Ruth (Dear Stranger Letters Series)

So, not only did I participate in distributing the “Dear Stranger” letters, I decided to keep one for myself to see what exactly was hiding behind the sealed envelope.

So many opportunities to choose from, in what I could write about. As I sit here, in what I call my jump seat…

I-15 between Baker, CA and Las Vegas, NV - headed east -

I just noticed the cloud looks like a goose in flight

I decided to share my story/journey that began 4,298 days ago, from a seat just like this.

First, I have to give a bit of a backstory, because without it, one cannot truly comprehend just how far I’ve traveled, literally and figuratively on this journey. My story is one of self-reflection, personal growth, forgiveness and learning how to give grace, including to myself. It also came with some unlearning some life long behaviors and beliefs. When you hear people say, “People can’t change” or “A leopard cannot change its spots”, I’m here as proof that yes, yes they can.

Let’s go back a few years…a child of divorced parents at a very young age, I was truly the baby of my family. My two sisters were 14 and 15 years older; my brother nine. I don’t remember much of my childhood as much of it has been buried away for most of my life. I’ve come to learn some stuff (from my sister) of those early years in the last five years, yet it hasn’t really triggered any memories that I can point to and remember.

The time I do recall so vividly are the few years I lived with my grandparents, Marcellino and Adela Pollock. We called them, Pono and Pona, as their names were hard to pronounce. He was an ordained minister; she an RN and one time Director of the Public Health Department in Nueces County, around Corpus Christi. When I went to live with them, they had both retired from their professions.

I make mention of them because the time I spent with them were the happiest years of my childhood - mid-year second grade till the end of my fourth grade year. With them I felt loved, and safe. Though the school I attended was right across the street, Pono would walk me to school each morning, whether I walked or chose to ride my bike. Like clockwork, he was there each afternoon to bring me home. During recess, I could look across the way to see them watching from their bedroom window. Every. Single. Day. They taught me so much during that short time. Lessons that would be locked away for many years, but that would play a huge part in my life after I uassumed my position in the jump seat on July 27, 2013.

What I need to mention, is that for most of my adult life, I swore I lived with them for almost six years. It wasn’t until a fireside chat with my sister, Blanca, that I came to realize it was much shorter. Did I bury the reality deep within me to keep the “happy” years at the forefront of my brain? I’m not really sure. Maybe it is because THAT time was everything I needed my life to be given all the other ‘noise’ that had happened or was yet to happen in my life.

All I remember, was at the end of that fourth grade year, I was making another move, to the South Texas, to live with my oldest sister, Stella, her husband, Dave, and their two kids, Missy and Scott.

In case you’re wondering where my parents were during these years, I have no idea. I’m pretty sure my dad was not far, as he, too, lived in the Rio Grande Valley, but I cannot attest to that. He hadn’t really been in my life up to that point, so I can’t say for sure. My mom? That’s a great question! Once she left me with my grandparents, I did not hear or see her again till the summer before sixth grade.

Something I wasn’t aware of until a couple of years ago, is why I moved from my beloved grandparents to my sister’s. My Pona, had become ill with Alzheimera and it was just too much and too hard for Pono to continue to take care of me. Since no one knew where my mom was or how to reach her, Pono reached out to my Aunt Ruth (my moms only sibling) and Uncle Richard about taking me in. They both agreed to do so, but only if they could adopt me. My sister, Stella, wouldn’t hear of it, so off to Edinburg, Texas I would go. There I would remain until the day a brown Cadillac showed up as me and several kids were outside on the front yard. A man I’d never seen before got out, went around to the passenger side to open the door, and out stepped my mom.

Mind you, I hadn’t seen her, much less heard from her since the middle of my second grade year. She hadn’t bothered to let anyone know she was coming. She just showed up, newly married and ready to pick me up and take me away to a place I’d never been to or even heard of…Angleton, Texas.

I’m stopping here for today, as it’s a lot for me. One would think I’d be okay with telling this story all these years later… Doing so brings up some pain, simply because there’s so much still buried, so much forgotten, so much I’m sure I still don’t know.

Besides, the view in my jump seat has changed a bit. Quite possibly some views you’ve seen before?!