So besides Marco, there was Charlie. Charlie was an African-American boy who was around my age. Charlie was a little more, well - let's say "mature" than the rest of us. Charlie was from Harlem, I think, and he was a tough cookie - yet very sweet too. Funny thing, he LOVED my mother. Looking back, I realize it was because his mother never came. I'm not sure he even had a mother. He was a burn victim and he had endured many, many skin grafts and needed to endure many, many more. He had been at Newington Children's Hospital for many months. He was a "regular". Perhaps he was a foster child, I really don't know, but he loved to spend time in my room. Well, the comical thing was.....my mother was a tad prejudice. Not that she thought she was better than African-Americans, if anything, she felt she had something to fear of them. She was such a good woman though and such a good mother because she always explained it as if she just couldn't help how she felt, but that my sisters and I shouldn't be like her! Isn't that so ahead of her time? She actually, on some level, realized she was wrong and didn't want her kids to be. Funny, huh? Anyway, you know how they say if a cat sense's you don't like it, it comes around you more often - well, the more my mother tried to ignore Charlie, the more he kept showing up. I thought it was so funny. I truly thought he was just trying to get to her, and then I slowly realized through the nurse's, that in fact, Charlie was "sweet" on me. Oh Charlie - I have so many memories.....
It was Charlie that first made me aware of the song, "Seasons in the Sun" by Terry Jacks. This was a huge hit at the time of my surgeries. If you don't recall this song, I have added this one to the sideline as well. Please go and listen to it. Just click on the words underneath where it says, "Seasons In The Sun" in the sideline. If you listen to the words, it actually is quite meaningful and anytime I have heard this song since, it literally causes me to pause and think of Charlie. He told me that the song was about a young man who is dying but there are parts that just echo Charlie's emotions at the same time. I told him that my sister's name was "Michele", and so when he would sing it to me, he would replace "Michele" with "Valerie". Charlie LOVED music and he could also play the piano and he would play Paul Simon's, "Loves Me like a Rock" and I soon loved that to! He would play it all the time for me and sing it to me and shout to anyone who would listen, "I love Valerie!” Too funny. One day, he said to me, "Have you ever been kissed?" and I said, "No". He laughed and replied, "Well, I AM going to kiss you! I am going to be your first!” He would tell people this! That he was going to kiss me! OMG - I was bewildered and all I could think was "MY MOTHER WILL KILL ME!". So I immediately decided that Charlie would NOT be my first kiss and I came out and told him so. He just laughed and said, "Bet ya I will?” Oh, Charlie just didn't know me. Even at 12, I wasn't going to do anything I didn't want to, no matter how cute Charlie really was! He never did give up trying, and he never got what he wanted either!!! I often wonder what ever happened to Charlie.
There was also Audrey Smith. Audrey was from Westerly and was the younger sister of a boy I went to Babcock Junior High with, Ray Smith. Audrey also had Legg-Perthe's, if I can remember correctly. Ray would pop into my room sometimes when he would at the hospital visiting his sister. I hardly spoke to him, I guess because I was more embarrassed than any other reason. He was a nice guy, and unfortunately he passed away at a young age, if I remember correctly, he was in his early twenties. I never did find out what happened, but I was very saddened when I saw his name unexpectedly in the obituaries way back when.
School was a very strange place. We would all be wheeled down and It was a large room with all these kids laying in their hospital beds! I don't think I learned a thing, nor do I think anyone else did. I vaguely remember the teacher and it didn't take long to realize that it was all a waste of time as she obviously didn't have any control over the classroom, or Charlie. Charlie was ambulatory and not bedridden, and it was here at school that he would play the piano and sing to me. This may just be the very reason why I've always had a soft spot for a man who can sing or plays in a band!
Time was passing, my regular visitors kept coming, and my mother was getting on my nerves. Too much togetherness, I'd say.
So listen to this, the same nurse that gave me the two Ring-Dings was working this particular night and it was close to "lights out" time. My roommate had been discharged and I had the room to myself. I was wide awake and not sleepy at all and I was flipping through the channels when she came in. All of a sudden, she said, "Ooh, that's a good movie. You should watch it". I said, "Can I? I know it's almost 10, but I'm not even tired?” She replied, "Well, how about we make a deal - if you fall asleep, I will come in and shut the TV off and you can't put it back on again! You can watch the end another time, OK?" - I agreed. However, I had to also promise that if I was tired and miserable the next day that I wouldn't tell anyone she let me stay up! I agreed to it all! It was a musical movie I had never heard of called, "Change of Habit" with Elvis Presley and my girl, Mary Tyler Moore. I remember that Barbara McNair was in it as well. The premise was these three nuns, who I think were social workers as well (probably all-in-one, years ago) sent to some agency in the ghetto and Elvis Presley played Dr. Carpenter. The nuns wear "street" clothes so that the community doesn't realize they are nun's and more apt to go to them for help. The movie ends with Sr. Michelle (MTM) going into church, assumingly to pray for guidance as she clearly has feelings for Dr. Carpenter (Elvis) and he never knows that she is a nun to begin with. Anyway, the movie continued wayyyy past the "lights out" curfew and the nurse let me watch to the very end. If I remember correctly, it ended close to midnight. I was exhausted. The next day was a Sunday (I think) and I was miserable. Clearly, I didn't get enough rest and I was in a nasty mood and so, so tired. I kept falling asleep and evidently, my mother was concerned. I recall that my Uncle Sal came to visit that day, with my fruit basket and I was mean to him. I loved him dearly, but I was just sick of PEOPLE. I wanted everyone to go away and leave me alone for a while. My mother kept scolding me for being rude to him, but really all I wanted to do was sleep. I wanted out of that place and looking back, I realize that I was just being "me". I wanted OUT and since I couldn't have that, all I wanted to do was sleep and forget about it all. I was so miserable. I recall one of the nurses coming in and asking what was wrong and I told her I was just tired.
She kept asking and asking and asking. My mother kept asking and asking and asking. Finally, I told the truth and they let me sleep. I wonder if that nurse got in trouble? All my sleeping just wasn't enough to make up for the night before though, because when I woke up my mother was eating a piece of fruit from my fruit basket and I had a fit!! I started yelling at her, "Stop eating my fruit! It's mine. Uncle Sal brought it for me, not you! Why do I have to share everything??" and she looked stunned. Poor thing, what a brat I was being that day! I just was tired of it all and I was having my version of a temper tantrum. I was done!! Didn't anyone understand? I just wanted to go home. I had had ENOUGH.
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