Several years had passed since I left my family to live in the U.S.; it had never been my desire to come to this country, but life had other plans for me. It had not been my husband’s wish to come back to his country either as he had started a business and it seemed that it was going to be successful, it was a hunting and fishing lodge. We were beginning to get visitors and a person who visited several times was the U.S. Ambassador and other personnel of the Embassy; we also hosted a couple of photo journalists who worked for Field & Stream Magazine.
During those years, there was insurgency and a guerrilla movement in my country; we thought that we were too far away from the places where conflict was rampant; how wrong we were! One day, a secretary from the embassy came and asked my husband to walk with him. I had no idea what was discussed but afterwards, my husband told me that he had to leave right away because if he didn’t, the guerrillas were going to kill him. And that’s the day my life changed! It took fourteen months after my husband left for me to have my residency papers, and when I was called to the embassy to get them, my fate was sealed. Eventually I too became a U.S. citizen.
Winter, spring, summer and fall came and went several times and my life became routine; I still didn’t drive and had to stay home with my children. The day arrived when my first two sons went to school, and then the next and the next. The children were growing so fast and being children, did naughty things such as: raiding the pantry and fridge and the standard answers were: Not me and I don’t know….. how I wish I had met those two people who lived in my home and never seeing them. When one of the kids wouldn’t own up to something he or she had done, I would tell them: “you know that I’m part indian and have the ability to read your foreheads and I will know who is not telling the truth” My poor babies believed me!! I would line them up, had them lift their hair off their forehead and I always nailed the guilty party. That, of course, cemented their belief that mom could read foreheads!! The reason I could accomplish that was because the guilty one would always lift the hair in a way that the hand will always cover the forehead…. Busted!!
Many years later, we were at the home of one of my daughters and as it was a summer weekend, some neighbors had come to grill and swim in the pool. One couple had three kids, two girls and a boy, well, the boy was misbehaving and when the girls told on him, he denied everything his sisters told their parents; at that point, my daughter remembered what I did to them “reading their foreheads” asked the parents if they wanted to know who was the guilty party that because of my indian blood I could read in their foreheads who was misbehaving (of course, she explained to them how I did the forehead reading) The couple called their kids, lined them up, I asked them to lift their hair off their forehead, but before I could do the “reading”, the boy covered his forehead and owned up that he had been harassing the girls. After that day, he was always threatened with me coming over their house to “read the foreheads” Yeah, I know, mean old me!!
Having given birth to eight children four girls/four boys, (I call myself an equal opportunity mother) there was never a dull moment in my home. I hated winter time because the kids would go out to play in the snow, but kids being kids, it was unavoidable that as soon as they walked out the door, one would comeback running with the: Mom, I need to go to the bathroom!! And there I went peeling off layers of clothing starting with the mitts, cap, boots, snow suit, and then to put everything back on so he or she could go back outside. It was a never ending task, a joy filled task, but a task none the less!!
’till next time!!