Mom was no different than any other mother when it came to bragging about her baby. She told me when I was old enough to understand, that the sun shone brighter on the day I was born than any other day she could remember. She said it was so appropriate that I would be born in May. "When I went into the hospital, the sky was full of angry storm clouds. But, when we walked out together, the trees were in full bloom and the spring flowers had blossomed. Kind of like the way your smile lit up the room. It was as though spring was sent to celebrate your birth." Well, what do you expect? She was my mother.

Ironically, she and my father hadn't picked out a name for me. She told me that there was a magazine on her nightstand with a picture of a famous movie star. Deciding this was the perfect name, the birth certificate was completed at last. There hadn't been much planning for me. I was an early surprise, and though welcomed, Mom had not really wanted children. She had planned a career and didn't even want to get married. Though I wasn't their reason, they had tied the knot, and I followed shortly after.

My mother was born to a musically talented, Italian family. My grandfather had sung in the world-famous Carnegie Hall. He sang one note higher than Caruso, and if the great depression hadn't hit, they would have been quite wealthy. She remembered a time when she and her seven siblings had awakened to a prosperous Christmas, only to find days later that they had lost everything. All of the gifts were returned to the store. It was to be the beginning of hard times. My grandfather gave up the opera and began selling produce on a push-cart in the streets of New York. It was slightly difficult to support a family of ten on what he managed to bring in. So, my grandmother began sewing at home and trained the girls to help. My mother told me of the times their fingers would become sore from all the sewing. She said it was difficult to see with only a dim kerosene lamp. But, they had a certain amount of work to turn out in a given time, and they always met their expectations.

Though hard times had come to them, they managed to laugh and enjoy one another. Because of a show business background, my grandparents had many friends from Vaudeville. There was always music, laughter and love. But, there were tears too. My grandparents had been betrothed to one another at a very young age. Fourteen children later, six of which died, and hard financial times were to take their toll on the family. There was fighting in the great Italian way. My mother was soon to learn this practice and take it with her wherever she went. To add to this, she was the sickly child in the family, and perhaps this served to spoil her just a bit.

My grandfather had met Jesus along the way, but by now, Mom chose to ignore the church and leave home. She went to live with my aunt and uncle. She met and fell in love with the man of her dreams, and they dated for four years. But, as with many romances, it didn't work out. They went their own separate ways. Though she had emerged a totally loving individual, she now maintained that she would have a career and be free of children. But, fate took another twist. She had been introduced to my father. On the rebound without realizing it and feeling in the way at her sister's, she married my dad within a few months. Then I came along.

Most girls can't say enough about their dad. I however, don't really know mine. Circumstances being what they were and are, I never really got to be friends with him. But, now I'm going off on a tangent. Mom had shared with me that he had been born to a family of six children. He was the only boy and quite spoiled because of it. His sisters did everything for him. Consequently, though gentleman's manners were instilled in him by a religious mother, he was positively self-centered. To add to this, was an arrogance he had inherited from his father.

My grandmother died before I ever met her. My dad was only nineteen and very close to her. He took the loss so heavily that he began drinking over it. I was told that she had a sweet, calm, English attitude. My "Gramps", on the other hand, did not. He could be a very arrogant and demanding "German" fellow. I am not one to generalize, but I was soon to learn that strange as it may seem, each nationality has a definite personality of it's own. On the flip side of the coin, I inherited from these two distinct groups of Italians and Germans, a very loving and determined personality. But, let's get back to Dad.

With outstanding good looks, it's easy to fit into a mold of selfish and arrogant. Dad was no exception. In the years to come, my girlfriends would mistake him for my brother. Like Mom, he was quite attractive, classy, and charming. But, the attitude he had developed even cost him his fiancee. She said she couldn't marry someone who was as self-centered and arrogant as he was. She gave the ring back. Now he had lost his mother and the woman he loved. He met my mother, and in lonely desperation, he married her on the rebound.

On May 19th, I was born in, New York. Who was to know that I would become a victim of a very unhappy and dysfunctional home? My parent's paths had been carved out for them by their parents. Their personalities had been formed. Life had dealt some harsh blows to them. They turned to one another, but not out of love. Out of desperation. Instead of turning to the faith they had both been raised to believe in to meet their needs, they tried to find comfort and life in one another. They found instead, more confusion and pain. Perhaps I however, would experience the most pain. As my grandparents had paved the way for my parents futures, I was now to experience the same.

I, on the other hand, had a Bible-preaching, miracle-believing, praying, grandmother. As the Bible says, "Prayer changes things." But then, I'm getting way ahead of myself ...

They say that parents can make or break a child's future. Their impact either paves a positive path or a negative one. In fact, while they are yet in the womb, the child can hear and feel what type of environment he or she will be born into. The parents set the groundwork for personality traits and solid or negative relationships as well.

Every little girl wants to believe the best of her parents. That her dad is superdad. That he is the most intelligent man in the universe, her best friend, and always there for her. That her mom is her fondest role model in every sense of the expression. That she is consistently sweet and gentle. Unfortunately, it wasn't always so in my house. What was wrong with this picture? Dad and Mom were totally unfulfilled in their relationship. As a result, Dad withdrew. In doing so, Mom and I felt neglected. Mom learned to retaliate verbally. Raising me without his help, she often resented me and became verbally abusive toward me as well.

I would lay in bed at night and cry, wondering why Mom was always so unhappy and why she would take it out on me. Was I bad? I had to please her more. Maybe that was it. Then there was Dad. Why did he always keep to himself? Why wasn't he my friend? Wasn't I good enough for him or anyone for that matter? With children, love is spelled, "TIME." I never got any from Dad unless Mom coaxed him, and then it wasn't the same as if he had done it willingly. Did he hate me? I loved them. Why couldn't they love each other and me so we could all be happy? These were just some of the things...