10. Glimpses of Joy

At 14 years old, I realize that my childhood is over. I have to move to the dorms and be independent. On my own. In many ways, however, I feel I actually became an adult the moment I was born. Or maybe it was during my first piano lesson. Throughout all my childhood years I have no toys, no dolls, no playsets, no legos. It’s not that I don’t want them. I really do. For whatever reason, my parents determine I don't need them and they don’t buy them for me. None at all.

Books

My mother starts taking me to the library when I am 3 years old and I get to choose all the books on my own. I always take my book selections seriously. I learn to read very early on, between ages 4 and 5. I want to read all the books and stories to myself, I don’t want anyone else to read them to me. And one way to achieve this goal is to learn how to read. I teach myself by asking my mother what each letter is and what it sounds like; letters that I see in the streets, signs, restaurants, and shops. And then I put them all together to form words. Then I form sentences and start reading.

I also own a few books that I read and I reread many times, especially when I am not able to go play outside with my friends. Pippi Longstocking is one of those books. I wish I still had it. In Slovakian. And in English too.

Every time I go to the store and see books, I ask my parents to please buy me one. But they rarely do. They can’t afford it. Eventually, we stop going to the library as well. Life becomes too busy, too overwhelming, and too complicated. 

Grandma

My father’s mother, my grandma, is the most loving woman in the entire world. She has the same brown eyes as me and my father. They are not muddy like mine or empty like his. They are warm and caring. During all the times when I have to make two trips per week to Mr. Michael’s town, Kosice, for my piano lessons, and my father is not available, she is the one to go with me. These trips are actually fun!! Minus the piano part, of course. First, I am not starving. She packs me sandwiches and snacks. Second, she carries my heavy music bag, giving me a break. Third, she makes sure I am warm, have gloves, hat, scarf, and I am not shivering while waiting at the train station. Fourth, she brings me magazines for the bus and train rides. Fifth, she talks to me about other things besides piano. She doesn’t spend the entire lesson talking to the professor either and she listens to me playing. Her presence is calming, reassuring, and makes me feel safe. 

My grandma makes the best food, jelly filled dumplings, covered with chocolate. She knows how much I hate poppyseeds and she doesn’t make me eat them. She makes anything I ask her for and it makes her happy to feed me. She gets me a plate and utensil set with “Krtko,” my favorite cartoon character. She makes me cream of wheat with chocolate powder on top, and I eat it until I see the little Krtko on the bottom of the plate. She grows chives in a yellow flower pot and keeps it on the window sill. I watch it grow and then watch her cut the chives with her scissors. I keep asking her to cut the chives until she smiles and says “Girlie, we have to let it grow a little more, ok?” I am her only grandchild for a while and she spoils me. I love her. I love her so much. My piano world is more bearable with my grandma in it.

Uncle and Aunt

My father has two younger siblings. A sister who is 5 years younger and a brother who is 11 years younger than him. My uncle is just 15 years old when I am born. To me, he is a grown up. My uncle is so much fun, he plays with me every time I come over to grandma’s house. He chases me, he bounces me, and he spins me around. He throws me up high into the air. He does all the things that my father doesn’t. When I am with him, I giggle and laugh until I can barely catch my breath. He has several fish tanks in his room and we feed the fish together. We change the water together too. When he is away or in school, I patiently wait for him and count minutes for him to get back. He gives me a nickname. “Bubbles.” I love it. I love being special. I love being “Bubbles” and I love him so much.

My aunt is a beautiful young woman. She doesn’t have brown eyes like me, my grandma, or my father. Her eyes are blue. I would like to have blue eyes too. They spark like the sun glistening inside the ocean waves. My aunt is very smart too. She is a biology teacher. She tells me all about the human body and how the heart works, how it pumps the blood into the veins. I listen to her talk and I never want these moments with her to end. I could listen to her forever. She likes cream of wheat too and we eat it together. But I always get the Krtko plate. I love my aunt with all of my little pumping heart. My heart  is here for my grandma, my uncle, and my aunt. 

My favorite people. I have them in my life until my father’s psychotic break. After that, I am not allowed to see them or talk to them anymore. My mother has a lot of resentment and anger towards them and doesn’t want them in our lives. She thinks they are hypocrites. She says that they all lied to her. They tricked her into marrying my father and into being his caretaker. I don’t know what is true, that is her story to tell. But all I hear is how evil they all are. I hear this for years. My heart doesn’t know how to reconcile this information with my personal experience with them.

I lose all contact with my grandma, uncle, and aunt for over 20 years. In 2015, my uncle's daughter, my cousin that I have never met in person, finds me on Facebook. We friend each other. Through my cousin, I get to connect with my grandma again and I get to talk to her through Skype. I am so happy I get to see her one more time. The amazing grandma that she is, she starts sending me huge packages full of Slovakian chocolates, wafers, sweets, all of my favorite treats. She sends me so much that I can barely eat it all. She writes me letters too. I remember her beautiful and neat handwriting and I keep her letters with me forever. 

My grandma passes away in 2016 at the age of 88. 

One day after I learn of my grandma’s passing, I go to Target for some quick last minute groceries. My kids are sitting in the shopping cart. I mindlessly wander around the store, my thoughts flying elsewhere, forgetting what I need to buy. I enter a bread aisle, there are no people around. In the middle of the aisle, there is a long empty shelf. There is nothing on it at all. Except….there is actually something sitting right in the middle of it. It’s a flower pot. I come closer to check it out and there are chives growing inside. 

“Hi grandma,” I whisper to myself in disbelief….”I love you!”

I never talk to my aunt again. I learn of her passing from my cousin in January 2021. My aunt died after a long battle with uterine cancer.

I become friends with my uncle on Facebook in 2023. We chat once in a while, last time just a few days ago. I wonder if he still remembers his “Bubbles.” I don’t know if he does because I am scared to ask.