Lundyn Bridges (25 page)

"My father was a miserable old man," Saundra interrupted again. "He was mean to my mother and never had nice things to say to anyone. He blamed the world because he worked in the mill."

Saundra got up and gave the tissue box to her mother. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"He died when he was only thirty-five years old. The doctor gave him pills because he was depressed, but he wouldn't stop drinking like they told him. He died at the bar. Then things really got hard for me and the girls."

"Mom, stop blaming yourself." Saundra looked at us. "Your grandmother did the best she could. Barbara and I took dance and music lessons at the church. Your mother had a beautiful voice and sang in the church choir." Saundra paused. "Your mother was very pretty, and she could have been a model."

"Something happened when she turned thirteen," Mrs. Bridges continued the story. "She started hanging
out with the worst kids. She didn't care about school, and she quit her lessons at the church. Her daddy started calling her names and they would argue like they were out in the street. Sometimes I couldn't believe she was my child. When I would punish her, she would run away."

Saundra sat by her mother and held her hand. "Mom you keep blaming yourself. We were old enough to handle things. You rode the bus for two hours to work at Gimbels so we could eat. Barbara abused your trust."

The story continued between my grandmother and my aunt. Saundra began the saga by telling us she feared Barbara's friends because when she was in the sixth grade one of the older boys Barbara let in the house, while their parents were at work, propositioned her. After that, Saundra sought refuge anywhere she could – she stayed after school, went to the library or went home with a friend until their mother came home. By the time Barbara was fourteen, she and Saundra barely spoke. Our Grandmother was coping poorly with a helpless alcoholic husband and a wayward daughter. When Barbara announced she was pregnant, her father told her he would beat the baby out of her, and she ran away with Romeo. He was a twenty-two year old drug dealer from Cleveland who they believed to be Romen's father. Barbara was fifteen and repeating the ninth grade. Romeo was killed a year later when a drug deal went bad. Barbara returned to Clairton only to be informed her father died during her absence. She was infuriated and faulted her mother and sister for not trying to find her. She left Romen, who was two months old, with our grandmother and disappeared for about three weeks. Mrs. Bridges contacted Children Youth and Families and began proceedings to get custody of
Romen because he had been abandoned. Barbara came home, apologized and asked for another chance until she could get herself together. She promised to get her GED. Our grandmother gave in and pleaded with the caseworker on Barbara's behalf. The next six months went well and Barbara received her GED through Job Corps. However, after her review by CYF things quickly went downhill. Barbara started hanging out and leaving Romen with our grandmother for days at a time. She had multiple boyfriends who she would sneak into her bedroom at night; she spent her money on clothes and would not buy formula or pampers. Three months later Barbara was gone again. She left with Stanley, a boyfriend she met on the bus. She said he was a singer on his way to stardom. Barbara returned a year later with a black eye and five months pregnant with Afreeka. She was eighteen years old. Again, our grandmother permitted her to disrupt the household – and she urged Saundra to be more tolerant of her sister. Saundra became the babysitter – when she would get home from school Barbara would always have an errand that turned into a rendezvous with Stanley – so Saundra began to teach Romen how to count and how to say the letters of the alphabet. She realized how easily he grasped things and began buying him books so he could look at the pictures while she did her homework. In one of the last conversations the sisters had, Saundra tried to get Barbara to straighten up.

"I realized that I had not been nice to her. I was angry because she always made my mother cry. I was also angry because she was not the big sister I wanted. She had everything – she was smart, pretty, talented, and she threw it away." Saundra spoke matter-of-factly. "I remember when I was completing a research paper on
the incarceration of Nelson Mandela. Barbara picked up one of the books I was using and told me that she would name her first daughter Africa. She said she would spell it differently because she didn't want it to be ordinary. She considered our names ordinary and wanted her children to have names that stood out."

Afreeka and I looked at each other. We both hated the spelling of our names.

Saundra continued the story. "Two months later, Afreeka you were born. After that Barbara applied for public housing and was placed in Saint Clair Village. She seemed to be doing okay after Stanley left, but then she let a drug dealer she had only known two weeks move in with her. That led to a major argument and was the first time I heard Barbara cuss at my mother."

Our grandmother cried as Saundra recounted the events. It was then that Barbara estranged herself from the family. Over the next two years there was minimal contact, which was typically precipitated by a request for money. During Saundra's senior year, Barbara showed up with the kids and asked if she could move in temporarily. She had been evicted from St. Clair Village for multiple fights. Saundra begged her mother to say no – she didn't need the drama that accompanied Barbara, who was seven months pregnant with her third child.

"It was the last time I ever spoke to her," Saundra stated. "She was angry because I wouldn't babysit for her. She didn't care that I had to study for my biology exam and I wouldn't give in. She told me that if I wasn't so dumb and ugly I could get someone to buy me things. She said it didn't matter how hard I studied, she would always be smarter. I told her that I hated her and I would make it on my own. I spent the
next two days at my best friend's house, and when I came home, Barbara was gone. I never saw her after that."

"That was a hard time for me," Mrs. Bridges lamented. "I didn't know what to do. I loved both my girls. When Saundra left I felt so bad, but I needed to help Barbara because she had babies that she wasn't taking care of."

It was a sad story and my heart ached for them. Mrs. Bridges concluded by telling us Barbara was relocated to the Garfield Projects where I was born. Almost a year passed before she knew I was a girl. She only found out after Barbara was arrested in a raid on crack house. Romen, Afreeka and I had been left alone, and CYF mandated that Barbara attend the outpatient drug and alcohol program at St. Francis Hospital. The caseworker called our grandmother to see if she would be willing to take us if Barbara failed to complete the program or comply with the weekly in-home visits. She never called back, and Mrs. Bridges assumed Barbara had gotten off drugs and put her life together. She was shocked and broken-hearted when she was informed of Barbara's death. By that time, ten years had passed since Barbara's parental rights had been terminated. Mrs. Bridges never knew of the twins and had no idea where to begin looking for us.

We sat silently. No one knew what to say. I had chosen not to remember the anguish, but Romen's pain was rooted in these memories – he had lived through them. This history lesson helped me see us more clearly. We were Barbara's children. All of the things we had become were the dreams of our mother who had been murdered by drugs and depression. The writing, singing, creativity – these had once been the stars in
Barbara's eyes. It was good to know our names were pictures of her creativity and not the result of her lack of education. Romen provided the stability that Barbara couldn't. Afreeka sang with intensity, far beyond her years, just like Barbara. I had the strength Barbara had lost. Rah'Lee effortlessly played the piano by ear, like Barbara had done. Hustin's smile captured the joy Barbara had forgotten.

After dinner we took pictures and promised to get together again. We invited our grandmother and aunt to visit us in Maryland. Romen invited everyone to his house for Memorial Day.

On December 1, 2005, Houston and Dallas, identical twin boys, were born to Romen and Nina. Although six weeks early, they each weighed a little over four pounds and came home the week before Christmas. In the spring of 2006 the Lord blessed Jamel and I with two powerful ministries. Jamel received state and federal funding for Nehemiah – an inner city ministry for middle and high school boys of single parents. In partnership with Women's Center and Shelter, The Mustard Seed opened as the first Christian support group for family members and friends of those in violent relationships. In May of 2006 Afreeka surrendered her life to Christ and joined the choir at Zion Baptist. With much prayer, therapy and support, Afreeka was in her sixth month of sobriety. Rah'Lee finished her freshman year on the Dean's List. She declared her major in Political Science – she would pursue criminal law in Hustin's memory. Romen and
Nina hosted the family in Erie for Memorial Day. Jamel, my grandmother and my aunt joined us. We decided to spend the time making new memories instead of trying to catch up. Then on Christmas Eve, Jamel asked me to marry him. We set a date for September 8, 2007.

 

 

In this life of ambiguities, I learned that 'things getting better' is mostly defined by me and the frame I put around my circumstances. Many questions remain, and I now accept the fact they may never be answered. I'll never know why Barbara couldn't love her kids more than the drugs, but I choose to believe she did love me.

For most of my life the shadow of my childhood tainted my self-perception, but God continued to shower me with His favor even when I couldn't see it. Although separated, the hearts of the Bridges children were bound by a love that miles and years could not destroy. The Woodard's came into my life and not only did they love me, but they taught me I was loveable. I have come to realize only fairy tales always have perfect endings, but I now know how blessed I am.

I understand life is evolving, growing, dying and living. I've learned to appreciate the smiles and laughter and to glean from the tears and sorrow. It is nothing I have done that has gotten me through the most difficult times in life. In spite of the strength others saw in me, I always felt weak. My journey taught me the most amazing lesson and I know God's word is true – mustard seed faith can really move mountains. Like the woman who touched the garment of Jesus, it is by my faith that I have been made whole.

L
ove is patient,

love is kind.

I
t does not envy,

it does not boast,

it is not proud.

I
t is not rude,

it is not self seeking,

it is not easily angered …

II Corinthians 13:4 - 5

Every 9 seconds
a woman is abused
in the United States.

Every 3 days
in the state of Pennsylvania
a woman or child is murdered
by an intimate partner or caretaker.

 

Domestic Violence Hotline
1-800-799-SAFE (7233)

National Teen Dating Abuse Hotline
1-866-331-9474