The Story of Me. Them.

The Story of Me.

Them

The Story of Me began long before I became or came into this world.

It began with two people, two very young people who fell in love on a tropical island - a lifetime ago.

She was a native of this tropical island; petite, dark-eyed and olive skinned. She was a pure flame of fun and mischief. She had attended an all girls Catholic High School and led the other girls in many mischievous pranks. Once she brought a jar of flies to class and during the afternoon rest time, when the Sister's closed the shutters, she opened the jar and out came the flies, buzzing and making mayhem.

Another time, she aimed a paper clip on a tightly pulled rubber band directly at The Mother Superior, hitting her squarely between the eyes! The Sister's would tie her legs to the legs of the chair so could not sit with one leg crossed over the other, like grown women did. This was deemed inappropriate for young girls; so time and again, the Sister's would catch my mother with her legs crossed, uncross them and tie them to the chair.

She was a free spirit, a dancer, a dreamer, a lover of life - whom many said looked like Elizabeth Taylor when she was younger.

He was the opposite of everything she was. He was tall and thin with flaming red hair and blue eyes; spotted all over with freckles and the palest skin she had ever seen. He would turn crispy red within 20 minutes of being in the sun and little blisters would form if out longer than that.

He was Canadian, had been raised and schooled in Catholicism, like her. But he had been sent away at an early age to be schooled by the Friars. He was the oldest of five children; his Mother's intention was that her eldest would become a priest.

He, however, had other plans and after many years on this journey, quit this path and began a new one. One that would take him to the tiny tropical island of Puerto Rico. To the bank where my mother worked as a teller, to a whirlwind courtship and wedding a year later. To new friends, parties and the first of three children - Me!

I was born on September 27, 1961 at 4:30 p.m. I weighed 9 lbs, 12 oz - a huge baby! My poor mother was in labor for 12 hours without any pain medication. She had a Catholic doctor who refused to give her an epidural. My mother has never forgotten that, nor ever forgiven him - 53 years later. A few short hours after my birth, my ears were pierced and thus began my life long love affair with jewelry. I have no memory of this of course, but I do remember watching my infant sister, years later, shrieking and crying while getting hers pierced. So it must have been painful. 

I am not bragging when I say I was a beautiful baby - it was true - a matter of fact! I was fawned over and given many beautiful things and little trinkets that my mother could pretty me up with.

As a child I was always dressed in beautiful clothes; lovely hand made pieces that the Aunties made for me. Throughout my early childhood I was dressed like a living doll; adorned with bracelets, earrings and necklace. From the day I was born, I have never been without jewelry - I feel naked without it. If I don't sleep with my earrings in, then first thing in the morning, I put them on and go about the rest of my day. 

At the age of two, my hair grew in very curly and light red. My mother snipped a few pieces and my father put them in an envelope for safe keeping. Years ago he gave me a packet that contained my birth certificate, immunization records, a few photos and the envelope containing the tiny, still curled pieces of my light red hair.