This is from a book I am writing. It is not the beginning, or end. I
am not sure where in my book I will insert these paragraphs
am not sure where in my book I will insert these paragraphs
Relics of the Past
Here I sit at 1:04 in the morning. I just noticed on my
calendar, that it is 9/11/2013. It's my second day off. I am still tired,
because my sleep patterns have become irregular lately. I have been having
trouble sleeping. Is it because of worries over wars I wish I could stop, or
the fear that my cries for humankind to come to their senses, isn't going to
happen?
I really believe sometimes, that the loved ones we've had pass
on, are the lucky ones. Does being completely alone with my animals make me
think too much? I believe it does. I just don't feel good around people, when I
am not at work now days.
I used to be very social. When did I start withdrawing myself
from others? I can't remember. I used to go dancing the night away. When I
was little, I wanted to be a dancer.
I would watch shows with my Sicilian born paternal
grandfather. No one else could seem to stand him. He called my dad a bad name
all the time, but I didn't realize it, because he spoke the words in his native
dialect. When I would ask him, he would answer "You don't need to know".
I never learned what he was saying until I was a sophomore at
Harriman High School. I asked my Spanish teacher what Pi gili butana meant. My
teacher looked at me funny and asked where I had heard those words. He took me
out into the hallway before class was over. He told me it meant S.O.B.
I was 15 years old then. I looked at my teacher in
embarrassment. I am sure if any of my Sicilian cousins read this, it will make
them laugh,provided they read English well, or are able to translate this
correctly.
My heritage is so mixed up. When my grandfather was alive, he
didn't get many chances to use the dialect of his people. He came to the USA
from Partinico Sicily in 1912. Sicily is an island in the Mediterranean sea. It
is not too far from Egypt, Israel and some other places where there are some
conflicts going on. I worry I will never meet my cousins or see where my
grandfather came from.
Not only do I have Sicilian roots, but Irish, Scottish,
Cherokee Indian, Dutch and Turkish. The Dutch and Turkish part of me is not a
certainty.
I have been told my mother's maiden name is German. I can
remember my mother's father telling me he was Black Dutch and his mother was a
Turk, but my German sister-n-law told me my mother's maiden name is German. My
father insists my mother's father said his mother's maiden name was Turk. I
searched for the name "Turk". The results only show "Turk" to mean a shortened
word for Turkish. I am thinking about getting a DNA test to find out exactly
what makes me, me. I don't understand how some of my family members can be so
prejudice, when we have such a mixture in us.
My mother's mother told me her father had black hair, fair
skin and blue eyes. I am sure she said he was Scottish. I don't remember her saying
much about her mother. My mother's mother looked like an American Indian. She
had medium skin tone and dark eyes. I don't remember her hair any color, but
white. My mom got some photos from family members after my parents old home
burned in South Harriman. In one photo, it shows my mother's parents when they
got married. It is a black and white photo. I couldn't believe how pretty my
grandmother was. She looked like an American Indian her hair in a bun with a
very Victorian dress on. The dress went to her feet. I only remember this
grandmother wearing long dresses.
My maternal grandmother was very religious.
calendar, that it is 9/11/2013. It's my second day off. I am still tired,
because my sleep patterns have become irregular lately. I have been having
trouble sleeping. Is it because of worries over wars I wish I could stop, or
the fear that my cries for humankind to come to their senses, isn't going to
happen?
I really believe sometimes, that the loved ones we've had pass
on, are the lucky ones. Does being completely alone with my animals make me
think too much? I believe it does. I just don't feel good around people, when I
am not at work now days.
I used to be very social. When did I start withdrawing myself
from others? I can't remember. I used to go dancing the night away. When I
was little, I wanted to be a dancer.
I would watch shows with my Sicilian born paternal
grandfather. No one else could seem to stand him. He called my dad a bad name
all the time, but I didn't realize it, because he spoke the words in his native
dialect. When I would ask him, he would answer "You don't need to know".
I never learned what he was saying until I was a sophomore at
Harriman High School. I asked my Spanish teacher what Pi gili butana meant. My
teacher looked at me funny and asked where I had heard those words. He took me
out into the hallway before class was over. He told me it meant S.O.B.
I was 15 years old then. I looked at my teacher in
embarrassment. I am sure if any of my Sicilian cousins read this, it will make
them laugh,provided they read English well, or are able to translate this
correctly.
My heritage is so mixed up. When my grandfather was alive, he
didn't get many chances to use the dialect of his people. He came to the USA
from Partinico Sicily in 1912. Sicily is an island in the Mediterranean sea. It
is not too far from Egypt, Israel and some other places where there are some
conflicts going on. I worry I will never meet my cousins or see where my
grandfather came from.
Not only do I have Sicilian roots, but Irish, Scottish,
Cherokee Indian, Dutch and Turkish. The Dutch and Turkish part of me is not a
certainty.
I have been told my mother's maiden name is German. I can
remember my mother's father telling me he was Black Dutch and his mother was a
Turk, but my German sister-n-law told me my mother's maiden name is German. My
father insists my mother's father said his mother's maiden name was Turk. I
searched for the name "Turk". The results only show "Turk" to mean a shortened
word for Turkish. I am thinking about getting a DNA test to find out exactly
what makes me, me. I don't understand how some of my family members can be so
prejudice, when we have such a mixture in us.
My mother's mother told me her father had black hair, fair
skin and blue eyes. I am sure she said he was Scottish. I don't remember her saying
much about her mother. My mother's mother looked like an American Indian. She
had medium skin tone and dark eyes. I don't remember her hair any color, but
white. My mom got some photos from family members after my parents old home
burned in South Harriman. In one photo, it shows my mother's parents when they
got married. It is a black and white photo. I couldn't believe how pretty my
grandmother was. She looked like an American Indian her hair in a bun with a
very Victorian dress on. The dress went to her feet. I only remember this
grandmother wearing long dresses.
My maternal grandmother was very religious.