I know my next blog is supposed to be about when Darlene and John rescued me from The Cat House, and brought me to their tiny home in Sparks. I have no valid excuse for taking so long to write it, and will not bore you with the details of my malaise. After what should have been days but has dragged into weeks, here is what I have so far:
Sparks, Mark Espinoza, Mom-Mom and Phil
Zach and I woke up living in The Cat House in Reno, and went to bed all moved into his nanny Darlene’s house in Sparks. They had a small one floor home down the street from The Plantation Casino. The house was separated from Interstate 80 by chain link fence running along the highway, and a small road and tiny yard. You could hear the cars all day and night. Just to the right of the highway sat Reno Airport, and the racket from jet engines roaring was deafening. Just like any noise, after a while you got used to it; but we would have to pause movies, stop conversations, or turn the music or television all the way up when airplanes flew overhead and semis hastened down the freeway.
The house was a small ranch, with a living room, guest room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom. Darlene gave Zach and I the guest room, which was really her son Phil’s room when he came to visit. There was no bed in there, so I got the floor and Zach, who had slept in the king size bed at The Cat House with me, was back in the playpen. Darlene’s nineteen year old, Joe, slept in the trailer in the backyard.
From the moment we met, Darlene and I bonded instantly. She was only nine years older than I, but she had that mother persona that some people are just born with, so of course she was motherly towards me and Zachary. She hated that anyone would consider her motherly though. She still wanted to be considered a young, hip biker chick, which she had been, but those days were long behind her. Now she was a legally blind, tired mother to two maladjusted boys, and struggling to make it through each day, while her husband went gallivanting around town with his friends, male and female alike.
I was going to work on it and hopefully finish this chapter of the travails of Meg this weekend, but I came across something I wrote last year that I wanted to share with you, about what my kids and I experienced on September 11, 2001. I know that you each have your own stories of that day. The entire country went through a tragedy akin to losing a loved one, as of course thousands actually did. For those of us living in the Northeast, the loss was palpable and instant and terrifying.
After the towers went down, there was a period of time when we all truly pulled together as a nation. They say that is what people remember most about that time. I remember it, and it was like the rose on the grave, special and beautiful and sad. I would like to share this little piece about that horrific day with you, and hope that you will comment with your stories. I think we need to pull together again.