I have been thinking about this event in my life for quite sometime now, I was not sure if this part of my life I wanted to share with you. I realized that the only way to come to grips with this is to get it out in the open as much as possible. I also want others to know the pain, and lasting suffering that child abuse leaves on the child. I am not fully aware of all of the information surrounding the Fall, but I do have some vague memories. The adults in my life at the time this happened have all passed away, but even if they were alive today, I don't feel the truth would come from them. So I must rely on the memories I have, and the small amount of information that I was told growing up. It happened when I was three or four years old, it was a time when my mother decided that she was taking me from my grandparents. This is my story.

I remember that mom lived on the third floor of a very old building, the kind that typically have twenty foot stories on each level. I don't remember much about the fall, except that I was sitting in the window and my mom was there with me. I can see in my mind looking down where my brother Joey was playing in the yard with a friend. Joey was only two years older than me at the time that this happened, and his mind is too far gone now to be of any help to me in this story. I remember the start of the fall, and then my mind cuts away. Probably a good thing to. Joey told me years ago that he remembers me falling, but because I fell sixty feet, he thought that I was my doll. Being the big brother he tried to catch "My doll" ( me!) , perhaps breaking my fall?

My grandmother told me that she was out of the state visiting relatives at the time that this occurred. She told me that I wasn't expected to live so, the state police were sent out to track her down at her relatives. They told her what had happened, and that "She needed to return to St.Louis, as quickly as possible". She also told me years later that she felt as though my mother had pushed or thrown me from the window. This was her own daughter that she was saying this about, so I have to wonder if she knew more than she told me!

I remember being in the hospital, and one young Doctor in particular that used to take me around the hospital to visit other children. He would carry me in his arms, I felt safe there! I wish now that I knew his name. I don't know how long I spent in the hospital, but miraculously I only remember having a broken arm and a broken leg. If I had more injuries, thankfully I don't remember them! I can only believe now that God sent an angel to watch over me! Not many adults could survive a sixty foot fall and land on concrete, much less a three year old child!

I do remember sometime after leaving the hospital that my mother and grandmother along with me and my sister Tania walked to my mothers house. My mom got mad at me because I was still in two casts, one on my arm and one on my leg, and she was tired of carrying me! I can see her face now and the anger there, I can hear her yelling at me to" Walk". I can feel the slap on my leg. Then because I wasn't able to do this she set me down on the sidewalk and walked away! I guess she thought that I could crawl or drag myself along. Finally my grandmother put me in the stroller with my sister Tania.

My mom left me with my grandparents from that time on until I was about thirteen years old, when she again renewed her interest in having me live with her. By now I not only feared her, I disliked her very much. She would take me from my grandparents for months at a time. I think that she would do this mostly to torture them and me! Then as suddenly as she had taken me, she would tell me that I "Could go home now"! This went on with some regularity until I got married. Then she would try to brow beat me to visit her. Whenever I tried to do this it usually turned out bad. She would start to drink, argue, and fight with me! The final time occurred when my daughter Angela turned one year old. My sister Tania had been baby-sitting Angie for me so that I could return to work. When dropping my sister off at my moms house, mom came in from a bar and started making trouble about not being invited to Angie's birthday party. She wouldn't listen to reason so we started to leave. She sent my younger sister La Ray after us! I told my husband to get my daughter out of harms way and I would try to get away from mom and my sister. I remember the two of them attacking me, and being hit in the eye with a bottle. Mom was telling La Ray to "Kill Her! Kill Her!". When I did manage to get away from them, I stayed away for almost five years. I didn't see them again until the year before my mother's death.

I was angry for many years because of the childhood that I grew up in. I think that when I had my daughter, I felt how could she do this to me! How could she hurt me! Why did she hate me so. I think in her eyes I wasn't perfect, so she couldn't stand to look at me! She called me a freak as a child! I remember looking the word up in my Aunt's Dictionary to find out what she meant. It has taken years to overcome much of this anger, fear, and resentment. I guess I will struggle with fears of inadequacy the rest of my life. But I know that there is a better way. Having my daughter taught me that loved doesn't have to hurt! My grandchildren only reinforce this feeling.

Whether it was simply neglect on her part that I fell, or whether she pushed me, I may never know the answer to this question. I do know that lately I have thought a lot about this, and I feel strongly that she pushed me. I hope that I am wrong and that someday I find the truth. It is very hard living with the feeling that some one, especially your mother hated you so much that she tried to kill you, rather than have to face the fact that she has a less than perfect looking child.

I am a survivor, and with the Grace of God I am here today to tell my story! I feel blessed in many ways, because I know a hand stronger than my mother's is the reason that I am alive today. Angels watch over me I know this! I am worthy of living, I have value, I deserve to live. And no matter how bad the times in my life get, I always know that this is true!

Copyright © 1999, 2000, 2001 Joann Romans

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This page last updated on : Monday, October 07, 2001 21:02:55