Another Pair of Eyes..
Some would say my childhood was bad. Others might say they've seen worse. Which they probably have. But still, they look at me with those sad,pitiful eyes. Like they wonder why a child has to go through something like that. But then there are those, those who look at me with another pair of eyes. Eyes, almost indentical to mine. They see things for what it is. A way of making me understand that not everything in life is easy. You have to work hard to achieve something.
And almost every time, it's worth it.
So I guess you could say that it all started when my mom and dad got a divorce. But I was only a year old, so it didn't really affect me. In a way though, maybe it did. I have never known what it's like to have both of your parents in the same house. And I never will. Not that that is something bad, it's just that I've never actually seen my parents love each other. I'm sure they did, once upon a time. But I never saw it. They didn't really talk much when I was little. Actually, they didn't really talk much at all since their divorce. But it wasn't strange for me. That's how I saw my parents. Two separate people, in two different houses. Always mom, or dad. Never mom, and dad. Never together.
Then my mom couldn't afford the electrician bill. They cut our power. I don't remember how old I was. Maybe six or seven, I don't know. And so it began, every other week me and my brothers stayed at dad's house. And then with mom. It was strange. Having electricity one week, and missing it the other. As it turned out, we had really great neighbours. They pulled a cable from their house to ours, and so we had some power. I will never forget them. One thing that experince has taught me, is to never take anything for granted. Or anyone, for that matter.
And then my mom moved to Gothenburg with her boyfriend and my big brother. I was just about to turn eight. You would think that what I'd be the most sad about was the fact that they were moving away, but I wasn't. It was the person they were moving away with that had me worried. My mom and her boyfriend fought a lot, and I didn't know what was going to happen now. Around a year later she came back to visit. We were staying at our friend's house. She had some bruises on her body. I was told she had fallen down the stairs. I remember not believing it. My suspicions were confirmed when my best friend told me she had overheard our mothers talking. She hadn't fallen down the stairs. She was abused by her boyfriend. Around two years later she called me on my way to school, saying she was coming back. She had packed a bag while he was at work and was now staying with a friend. She had filed a prosecution against him and they were going to court. He was charged with community service.
But tragedy didn't stop there. A few months earlier my dad had been diagnosed with cancer. He died eleven days after my thirteenth birthday.
There are many other things that I could tell you about, but these are maybe the bigger ones. The ones that has me remember not what I've lost, but I've gained. Friends, and family.
What brings us apart, can also bring us together.
//Alex
© 2010 Text och Foto: Alexandra Bokström Niflis
And almost every time, it's worth it.
So I guess you could say that it all started when my mom and dad got a divorce. But I was only a year old, so it didn't really affect me. In a way though, maybe it did. I have never known what it's like to have both of your parents in the same house. And I never will. Not that that is something bad, it's just that I've never actually seen my parents love each other. I'm sure they did, once upon a time. But I never saw it. They didn't really talk much when I was little. Actually, they didn't really talk much at all since their divorce. But it wasn't strange for me. That's how I saw my parents. Two separate people, in two different houses. Always mom, or dad. Never mom, and dad. Never together.
Then my mom couldn't afford the electrician bill. They cut our power. I don't remember how old I was. Maybe six or seven, I don't know. And so it began, every other week me and my brothers stayed at dad's house. And then with mom. It was strange. Having electricity one week, and missing it the other. As it turned out, we had really great neighbours. They pulled a cable from their house to ours, and so we had some power. I will never forget them. One thing that experince has taught me, is to never take anything for granted. Or anyone, for that matter.
And then my mom moved to Gothenburg with her boyfriend and my big brother. I was just about to turn eight. You would think that what I'd be the most sad about was the fact that they were moving away, but I wasn't. It was the person they were moving away with that had me worried. My mom and her boyfriend fought a lot, and I didn't know what was going to happen now. Around a year later she came back to visit. We were staying at our friend's house. She had some bruises on her body. I was told she had fallen down the stairs. I remember not believing it. My suspicions were confirmed when my best friend told me she had overheard our mothers talking. She hadn't fallen down the stairs. She was abused by her boyfriend. Around two years later she called me on my way to school, saying she was coming back. She had packed a bag while he was at work and was now staying with a friend. She had filed a prosecution against him and they were going to court. He was charged with community service.
But tragedy didn't stop there. A few months earlier my dad had been diagnosed with cancer. He died eleven days after my thirteenth birthday.
There are many other things that I could tell you about, but these are maybe the bigger ones. The ones that has me remember not what I've lost, but I've gained. Friends, and family.
What brings us apart, can also bring us together.
//Alex
© 2010 Text och Foto: Alexandra Bokström Niflis
