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Voices, voices echoing in and out of our minds, beating distant memories of days that once were-
Distinct sounds which lead to words from mouths that summon up the deepest, heartfelt memories inside us all..
Places in time that come back to visit as stern reminders of where we came from-
the ones that usually enforce our adult existence with fondness-
the ones that have molded us into who and what we are-
Let us call them the "becoming" memories..
Like a bird chirping on a warm Spring day after a cold winter which may harken one to remember walks in the park and feeding the ducks with their father just as if they had stepped back into time ...
Like the distinct ping of a baseball bat meeting forcefully with the pitcher's ball in an effort to send it out of the park ...
Like the children laughing so care freely as they swang on the public apparatus in the park ...
Like the Christmas mornings known to so many filled with joy and memorable tidings ...
Like days gathered around the dining room table celebrating birthdays or Thanksgivings with family and friends-
Right back into those exact moments are we taken-
Or Like any other memory you may possess that rewards you with warmth and embrace you with an invisible hug..
All of these things and more bring smiles to most- a certain fondness ensues that can carry us throughout our adult lives. We can not control this phenomenon- it just comes and it goes, hopefully sprinkling us with soothing reminders of the beauty of life characterized by the people and situations that framed us and brought us to where we are today. It brings many glee-filled recollections, drawing a grin upon our faces in a sort of "afterglow". It makes living more worthwhile - more promising with the addition of posterity of our own lives. It can prove to be sustaining during difficult times for it is the guardian of the cornerstone of our lives.
However, to a specific group of others, it rekindles the indelible deposits of a previous contrary existence of despair and unforgivable frustration that just never seems to go away.
And so it is that those very sounds intended by God to carry calm consolation to our psyche in our day to day lives could potentially drive some hair- grabbing mad....
Yes, indeed, my friends, truth can be and is so more often then not, "stranger than fiction ..."
Imagine along with me and others as well, childhood and its wonders. It is an era of sheer magic and serenity - a space in time so grand and hopeful and your heart sings with the joy and promise of the future! A place where you could dwell forever; a sanctum so safe and protected that it encompasses your entire universe and from which you never wish to depart; an era, if you will, of permanent indelible experiences that will guide you and your contemporaries into the next phase of life and prepares you for your tomorrow; a delicate phase from which you shall blossom into adulthood and so overflowing with anticipation and hope and pledge of the coming days ... Or, at least, it was supposed to be that way ...
When we were but tiny tots- It was or was supposed to be the most whimsical time of our lives - a period that determines what lies beyond the horizon for us and a duration just before the rainbows end ( where the pot of gold awaits us all). This is the region of our lives that will take us into our future and mold the very essence of what we shall become. The experiences, the memories and the lessons from it shall guide us for the rest of the long travel ahead of us. Our jubilance from this trip carries us into the next phase of our path on this road otherwise known as life. ALWAYS THAT BIG, STRONG HAND (or hands if you will) was and were there leading us, guiding us and letting us know everything was all right, thereby teaching us so many yet unseen things detrimental to who we are - more importantly, who we shall become....
Allow me to take you on this odyssey with me, however arduous or frantic it may be, and thus, ultimately communicating a story that needs so desperately to be told ... and through a character you may come to cherish and relate to in so many ways ... It is funny how the words seem to flow with the onset of the rain - you see, we have not had rain here in this region of the country for months, yet, with the onset of the drops, so wet and so severe and so very, very needed, catharsis beckons. And so fall the words onto the paper - words so long overdue and so very, very necessary, like the rain now pouring out and upon my windowpane ... Words kept bottled up and locked away for so long, unable to find the key. Words that have sickened the body and the mind. One should know that rain has held a significance to this character which you are about to meet. Rain can be so cathartic, so cleansing, so purifying just as perhaps the following words may be as well ... Telling it ,once and for all, could possibly be freeing to her. Although every minor fact can not possibly be relayed on these few pages, the most significant facts shall be revealed.
Do you remember the happiness and the laughter and the grand times - the days and feeling of enchantment - the Popsicle dreams along with the capricious fantasies of our entitled youth and the innocence that went along with it? The promise accompanied with the wisdom yet untapped of your earlier days- the days when you were probably so sweet and so inculpable and blameless and so very young and so small? Most of us do. It held a splendor unlike any other! Whatever lied ahead for us was so bright. The world was at our feet! For many it would serve as a treasure chest for the upcoming years to tap into when they needed a lift and a smile, yet for some it would be a virtual Pandora's Box that they could not quell..
Ours was a planet that was so very lovely- OR SO WE THOUGHT....
There exists, as well, a sphere more than likely beyond your consciousness - one unconscionable to you personally. Yet still, it is one that is so real. It is perfectly known to some of us out there, walking its streets, raising our families, etc ... It is one which is haphazardly tucked away somewhere deep in the recesses and corridors of our minds - OR SO WE BELIEVED...
Now imagine it all exploding in your face. You feel as though you have fallen into an abyss - a powerful vortex -spinning around and around. It is descending at a speed indescribable. Your sense of security is no longer. You wonder when it will cease or at least when you will finally hit bottom and this torment will be over, but it never is ... It never stops and you are never quite sure of where you are.. and you have nothing to grab onto, so as to halt your plunge into the indubitable unknown. There is nothing but darkness as you descend downward. You have just been thrust into a foreign place - the world of the obscure - an immense and enclosed area of uncertainty. Just picture that, if you can ... Can you possibly do that for me? And guess what else? Oh yes! There is another great surprise for you-that feeling will never leave you. It will follow you wherever you venture and whomever you may encounter - always at your shoulder with that haunting, shrieking voice sometimes subtle and sometimes not so subtle, but so loud you can just scream, yet always right there talking to you and reminding you of how inept you are to escape and how undeserving you are to carry on further - a crippling whisper of your doom ... Imagine that, if you can ... or even if you dare! Envision your worst nightmare as a child and the hand soothing you out of your fears that helps you fall back into a peaceful slumber, but then you suddenly realize that you are only wishing this to be so. You resort to steadily praying for relief and help, begging for that strong hand to come to your side- but it never does come - at least not quite in that particular maternal or paternal fashion you crave, nor does it arrive in the manner which you expect it to or prefer it to- never ever giving you comfort ... Your pleading goes unanswered. And so, the bad dream only becomes worse. It follows you for the rest of your life ... wherever you may go and whatever you may do ... That nightmare is and becomes infinite. The totality of it yields a perpetual effect that dwells depthless within you! Furthermore, you have become its host and, unfortunately, for a never-ending period of time. Imagine having your universe being turned topsy-turvy like that. Picture yourself going through life in that state. Can you ever conceive of such a thing?? Do you have any idea of what I speak? Could you ever even begin to conjure up notions of what it might be that I refer to? No, of course not. How could you? But, it is quite all right, for you are about to embark on a quest which will inevitably explain all of the above ...
Permit me, I implore of you, to take you on an incredible journey, one perhaps unlike any other you may have been on before- Therefore telling a tale that must be told. It is a story that speaks to someone after all these years. It is a truth which oftentimes cries out in the night from the farthest regions of ones consciousness for relief, for simple answers, but mostly for justice. Yet it is one which never seems to be responded to and always is asking the question, "Why?" Come with me, if you will allow yourself to be courageous enough to do so. We can hold one another's hands, as this tale unfolds. Together, with bravery and open-mindedness, we shall move forward, Thereby, possibly obtaining strength from each other, and to hopefully transform that incubus into a healing with the wisdom of also knowing that we are definitely not alone ... this is my innermost wish ... my solace ... my prayer ... my sole and my sincerest oration. Join me now on this quest.... please..
Before we go on, let me admonish you this- It has been stated that Truth is stranger than fiction. I can think of no other better way to explain it ...
A Cautionary tale to some, this may very well be ... Keep ever in the forefront of your mind that this is a true testament - a discourse of the realist kind.... belonging to the primary player and revealing facts in an attempt to purify and cleanse.. ultimately its exposure can pave the way for a measure of closure ... Contained within the following pages is a summation of certain undeniable facts, a body of evidence - entwined and embroiled into a formation of words. But, you must promise yourself to finish to the last page. You owe it to the character. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to her. Share the pain. Share the fury. Share the guardian angels. And as you ultimately are inspired by her, you shall truly come to know the tenacity of the human spirit.
FOR JUST AS THE VOICES REAR NUANCES OF SECURE CONTENTMENT THEY CAN ALSO PEAK THE EXACT OPPOSITE ...
IN THE BEGINNING
Think of it this way folks- Have you ever glanced over at a photograph, perhaps posted on a wall or maybe sitting on a coffee table or on a shelf in your home and consequentially been scooped up and taken away to that exact moment- to that very space in time? Sure, you probably have. Many of us have. And within a matter of seconds you are swept off on a pleasant ride into that time and place?. You hear voices and laughter and singing- a lot of stimuli- from a time gone by. It makes your heart overflow in a serene way. You tingle- you sensate with emotion! You feel as though you are right there as it happened, reliving every moment. Kate has a few photographs of her own that have a similar effect on her- that is, of course, the effect to whisk her off into yesterdays. There is one in particular that had been placed on an end table close to wear she drinks her morning Java- her cup of Joe. This room where this particular photograph sits is connected to her dining room. Every morning, she attended it. It was her habit to sit here in the proximity of this photo, where she sat and drank her morning Demitasse coffee. She positioned herself, sitting at the glass dining room table adjacent to it. She was about ten years old in this snapshot. All of her siblings are seated around her in all of their seemingly glory in what appears to be a normal family snapshot -At first glance that is. It is anything but. The picture calls to her, tugging and pulling at her eyes to look at it. There is something about this particular photo. As Kate examines this picture, a sense of happiness overwhelms her. Is it the dark paneling in the background that has her attention? She gets a tear in her eye as she studies the faces of her one brother and four sisters. It is interesting how childhood implants specific things upon all of us, don't you think?
Kate is a little girl from an Italian family, a second generation if you will, and the third born out of a group of six. Now, although this actually has no bearing on her experience, it is now uttered for posterity's sake. A clear picture must be outlined for you readers. Her early days started out just fine - or so she believed that they had. This was more than likely due to her basic human and innate faith. Kate was by no means average. Her traits made her almost ideal. Her kind and magnificent heart must have surely played a huge role in this mindset and philosophy as well. She was a lovely little girl with curly light brown hair and a disposition that stood out - smart, tender, sweet, generous, pleasing, caring, funny, open, and who possessed a center core so grandly lofty it could have reached the stars! Her soul shone so brilliantly. It seemed that everyone loved her. Kate had a knack for automatically tuning into those around her, and she just as quickly loved everyone instantly. She was an intrinsic little being with an ability to gracefully make others see their light. And she was so self- effacing , humble and honest and sociable yet bashful as well. Kate was a pleasure and a treat to be around. One could sincerely say that Kate was an angel - truly she was a most beautiful and sublime small creature and that's a fact.
All one would have to do is ask her Aunt Paula. Kate has a card to prove it. She received this card back in the nineties. It is priceless to her as her Aunt adoringly recalls the little girl that once was. The little girl in a photo her Aunt has. The little girl whose soul jumped out at you! The little darling with the brilliant sparkle in her eyes. Kate had an indomitable sparkle in her eyes unlike any other. It magnetized . It mystified. It mesmerized and comforted. This drew you in - A twinkle that could stop a plane in flight or a train in motion or even the Devil himself! A wonderful alchemy of humanness , if you will. We know this because people have shared their stories about how Kate used to be - certain relatives and family friends who knew her before she even had any memory of them or really of much of anything. One thing that always rings out about Kate was her smile which revealed her core soul. It was one which shone through brighter then any light conceivable. Consequentially, it took you in and made you see your beacon within as well. That smile of hers could light up the world - She was so special. The fact is that Kate was a good girl with a spirit to match. She only saw the good in everything and everyone else. Her young heart wished for all to be happy from the depths of her heart, truly and genuinely. Even as she grew, these traits were unwaverable. Oh, and that passion for life she possessed captivated and it enthralled. She loved the snow in winter, the springtime warmth, the birds in the blue skies, the summer sun and ocean , school, people- she just loved everything completely and felt things so very profoundly and with an essence of sheer joy and sincerity - What a little gem she was! So complete in the basic sense. She would have done anything for anyone and had the empathy of the heavens. A marvelous and rare creature who possessed a charm and a delicacy beyond mere expression - And utterly unbiased and unprejudiced. In her mind this was completely effortless and mindless. It required no consideration or thought. The gift flowed through her so naturally as does a waterfall or a spring! "Oh, my, what a beauty she was!" as her Aunt Paula later would write to her in a card- stating that that was the way she would always remember Kate. An honestly delightful, wholesome and pure, wee thing in every sense and definition of the word was she and no more the decorated could you find. Eminently impartial and minus any sort of judgment, Kate never deviated from who she was. All of these above mentioned aspects iterated defined who she obviously was. How can one really explain her ? It is virtually impossible for mere words to aptly express. What potential, the likes of which probably have never been seen. You should have seen her - she was too good for this world ... No exaggeration! She could have contributed so much and in so many ways to this vast, complex world ...
Excerpted from Voices in the Midst by Catherine Ann Sabatino Copyright © 2010 by Catherine Ann Sabatino. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Posted October 14, 2010
What an entralling story revolving around the main character. The author draws in the reader with riveting detail but also with a perfect blend of candor and compassion. She pulls you also into the situations of other human beings- specifically mistreated children. You will never look at certain life instances the same after reading this wonderfully open story of abuse and ultimate triumph over the remaining scars left in its aftermath.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.