I know it’s super cliché, but I’m a people person.

As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, I’ve got an interesting story- and I know others do as well.  I love learning new things about people…including complete strangers.

And that’s why I’m a waitress and it’s the best money a college kid can make.

You wouldn’t believe the incredible stories I hear from people who have known me for less than an hour.  Sometimes they’re happy stories, sometimes sad – and sometimes they’re stories of pure celebration.

For the last table I waited on this evening, tonight was a joyous occasion.

It was a family of seven who weren’t just celebrating their father’s 59^th birthday - they were celebrating his victory over lung cancer. Although he had lost a quarter of his lung in the process, his spirit and will to survive remained fully intact.

After they finished dinner and I cleared away their plates, I brought out the chocolate cake they had brought with them. We had been joking with each other all night, so I wasn’t surprised when one of the son’s dared me to sing the Outback birthday song to his father by myself – but I’m sure he was surprised when I immediately burst out in song, loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.

As they laughed at my horrible rendition of “happy birthday,” I passed out the dessert plates.

“You forgot one,” said the son who had challenged me to sing.

“One, two, three…there’s seven of you, right? I think I got them all,” I answered, counting and re-counting.

“Well you need one too.”

I smiled, got myself a plate and pulled up a chair.

Tonight, I celebrated the simple gift of life…and ate some of the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had. 

In my journalism class today, we watched a video news story that follows the life of a Kentucky mother as she struggles through drug court. The woman is a mother of five who battles a pill addiction, and eventually loses her children and is sent to jail. While my classmates viewed her story in disbelief – asking themselves how such a story could possibly be true – all I could think about was how perfectly her story mirrored my own family’s story.

My entire class saw my secret…without even knowing it. 

Stan has a trailer on Cayuga Lake where my siblings and I spent our summers. It was about 30 minutes away from Auburn, the town where I used to live. Each morning, my mom would drop us all off at the YMCA to catch the bus to Camp Y-Owasco before she went to work. Then at around 5, she would pick us up and take us back out to the lake.

The camp didn’t provide lunch for the children so it was required that we bring our own food. My mother would make our lunches each night before she went to bed, but since this was at a time when she severely struggled from alcoholism, the concoctions she made were rarely edible – one of her favorite things to pack was cold hamburger helper sandwiches. When lunchtime rolled around and the other children would pull out their PBJ’s and gummy fruit snacks, my siblings and I would lie to the camp counselors and say that we had forgotten our lunches. They’d go to the kitchen and make us each a sandwich and once this lie became a daily occurrence, they just had food ready for us before we even asked.

And then we saw the jar in my mother and Stan’s bedroom.

It was full of quarters and my sister and I were convinced that Stan would never notice if a few were missing, so each night, my sister and I would rotate sneaking into the bedroom and stealing a handful. In the morning after my mother dropped us off at the YMCA, we would walk down to the vending machine and each of us would purchase something to eat. In our naïve minds, the plan was flawless.

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Out of all my siblings, I have always been the one with the closest bond to my mother. I’ve done my best to stand by her side and offer words of encouragement, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve had to take my own well-being into consideration. Long before our current struggles even became an issue, there was one incident that forever changed the way I viewed my mother as a parent.

I was in fifth grade and I had been on restriction for many weeks. My class was taking a field trip to a local ice skating rink and going sledding and I wanted desperately to go, but per Stan’s rules, I wasn’t allowed to participate in any extra-curricular activities because I was on restriction. I begged my mom to sign the permission slip and I promised if she let me go on the trip, Stan would never find out. After days of persuading, she finally gave me permission and signed the form and we began discussing how we could make our plan work without Stan knowing.

It had to be elaborate because if it wasn’t, Stan would surely find out. Every detail was planned and when the day finally came, we were both ready. I purposefully missed the bus and then came home to ask my mom for a ride and she just so happened to have an early “doctor’s appointment” so she was already up. My mom then drove me to school and popped the trunk so I could get my snow clothes – we had put my snow things in the car days prior just to make sure Stan didn’t get suspicious. I got my things, said goodbye and thank you, and had the time of my life on the field trip.

When my mom picked me up from the afterschool program later that evening, I excitedly explained how awesome the field trip was. She smiled and told me to make sure my father didn’t find out (we called Stan “Dad”) and loaded all my snow clothes in the car. I had never been so happy to deceive someone in my life – I had gotten away with it.

A few days passed and everything seemed to be going normal. One evening, after Stan finished eating dinner, he took his usual seat in the living room and began reading the newspaper. My siblings and I were still finishing our food when he looked over and nonchalantly asked, “Did you go on that ice skating field trip?”

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For the most part, I didn’t mind raising myself. I remember filling out my 1040EZ form freshman year of high school and when my teacher asked me what I was doing, I answered matter-of-factly “my taxes.” I knew that there were certain things that had to get done and if I didn’t have parents to do it, then it was up to me. I’ve never been audited so I’d say I’ve been doing pretty well. 

Even though I’ve gotten used to it, there are still times when I really wish the outcome of everything had been different and now that I’ve gotten older, certain things have become more of an issue….like college graduation and my future wedding. 

My mom came to my high school graduation and it was incredibly awkward - we spent the day with fake smiles plastered on our faces, pretending like we knew each other. It was in that moment that I realized that I didn’t have a family, I just had a mom and siblings - there was nothing unified or “family-like” about us. (My high school graduation is still very special to me)

(I couldn’t get Josh to come)

I do not want my college graduation to be like this - the last thing I want to do is spend the day stressing over making sure my family looks like a family. I have 4 tickets to my graduation ceremony and I honestly have no idea who’s going to fill those seats: maybe Josh (though I doubt he’d come), my sister Danielle and her boyfriend (I went to her college graduation last year so I’m sure they’d consider coming to mine), my older sister Mindy (if Danielle also came this would be awkward because Danielle and Mindy never talk)….I want it to be stress-free which is definitely too much to ask

Like a typical girl, I want my wedding day to be magical - but all I can think about is how I’m going to have no one to walk me down the aisle, no father-daughter dance, and only a handful of family members in attendance. I should probably be in a stable relationship and have a groom in mind before I start worrying about this stuff, but that would be too logical for my taste. 

My mind’s in a gloomy place today….I blame the weather.

That’s what I have to constantly remind myself - but when he’s got 15 18 other siblings running through his house, it’s easy to think that he’s going to forget about the sister that lives over 1,000 miles away….

As always, I asked all the questions and he gave all the single syllable answers:

How’s school?

Good

When does baseball start?

Soon

Anything new been going on with you?

No

God, he’s such a boy – it kills me. He said he’s doing well though, so I can’t ask for much more than that. We also set up a time for me to call next Monday at 5:30 so he can hear how my interview with Coca-Cola goes.

First off, I’m honored to have even made it to the final 10 – that’s an accomplishment all on its own!

All 10 of us have our interview on Wednesday and we then drop down to 5. Those 5 then head to the Coca-Cola headquarters in Atlanta and interview with the executive board and from there, only 2 are selected for the internship…It’s definitely quite a process…

I looked up the other 9 finalists resumes on LinkedIn and competition is definitely stiff – we are all super qualified, go-getters. I know that I’m qualified for the position and I know that I’m more than capable of putting in the long work hours so it’s just a matter of making sure that the person interviewing me sees that.

Any interview advice that ya’ll can sprinkle on me?

I know you’ve visited my blog 18 times this past month and I know all the unknown calls I’ve been getting have been from you. I also know that you’re probably mad at me and you don’t understand why I’m not talking to you….so please, just hear me out-

I’m really hurt by the way things panned out when I visited in December. It had been 4 years since I’d seen you, and for some crazy reason, I expected for you to be more excited about my surprise visit. And yes, I did expect you to make the 3-hour drive to Dallas to come pick me up, and yes, I do realize that would mean you would have to sacrifice some sleep. But I only expected it because that’s what parents do. I’ve made the 17-hour drive back to NY just to spend 8 hours with Josh - hell; I’d make the drive to spend 3 hours with him. You know why? Because when you love someone, you make sacrifices for them.

We both made some really low blows and I admit that I did cross the line a few times. I should have never spoken that way in front of Mema and Granddad – it was incredibly disrespectful and immature of me. But do you have any idea how exhausting it is to listen to you say the same thing, over and over again, year after year? You kept asking me what I said to Josh – clearly insinuating  that I was the reason he’s not talking to you….for the millionth time, he’s not talking to you because you put him up for adoption and he has a new family now. You betrayed him and he may never forgive you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have to accept the reality of the situation. I’ve come to terms with the fact that Josh and I will never have a close brother and sister relationship – I’m not happy about it, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m just trying to fit in wherever he will let me and you need to do the same. There have been times when Josh and I have had horrible conversations but no matter how shitty the phone call, I always end by telling him I’m not mad at him and I’m here if he ever needs me. There’s nothing you can say to him that will change the way he feels about you; he just has to come to terms with things on his own.

I’m not done talking to you forever – I’m just taking a hiatus. I don’t know how long it’ll be until we speak again, but when we do, I want to have a real conversation. I don’t want to talk about the mean names that my sister have been calling you, I don’t want to listen to you cry about how you’re our mother and we should “respect” you, and most of all – I don’t want you to try and justify your actions by saying it was “in the past.” What you did was a big deal and it’s something that can’t be forgiven. I’m never going to accept your apology but I can live with your mistakes. I’ve had faith in you longer than anyone else in our family and because of that, I’ve been let down more than anyone else. You made the decisions and you have to deal with the repercussions.

 I love you,

Rebeka

After my disappointing visit to Texas, I’m happy to say that my trip to New York was almost the exact opposite. Although Danielle and I had our arguments, we didn’t let it ruin our trip in the slightest. And in all reality - no matter how much we bicker, I still love her just the same. I was greeted by this text message when I landed in Atlanta: 

It was so wonderful to see you - regardless of the mishaps of the weekend - which btw have to land in the top 5 category for the most dysfunctional fights in our history :) and I promise to get out to Georgia very soon - we are all each other has and I know I can make a better effort to see you from here on out. I love you so much <3

Happy birthday my beautiful sister, I’m so glad I got to spend time with you <3

While playing Cosmic Bingo (which was a riot and a half), Danielle’s name was drawn and she had to compete in an activity on stage. Like a true Geer sister, she turned on her A-game and absolutely dominated - walking away $50 richer!

As for me, luck was clearly on my side! Out of the near 700 people in the massive bingo hall, I ended up winning one of the bigger prizes of the evening - $500!!! 

Introducing the not-so-little-anymore Sammy!!! This pup is absolutely adorable and a super cuddle bunny :)

No matter how much time passes, it still doesn’t get any easier when I see my little brother posing in portraits with his “new” family. It’s hard to believe that its been a few years since the adoption was finalized and he changed his last name. I like to pretend that he’s still that Spongebob-loving 3rd grade boy I remember because every time I see how grownup he has become, all I can think about is how much of his life I have missed:

He looks so happy too… 

There wasn’t a single child abuse charge that was brought against Stan. He severely damaged my siblings and I for over seven years and when we were placed into foster care, he just moved on with his life. And now, here I am years later, still dealing with the repercussions of the things he made me endure and it seriously bothers me that he never had to come to terms with his wrongdoings….

He took everything away from my siblings and I - rules corresponded with everything we did and he took away any hopes we had of ever having a real childhood. I couldn’t have a glass of water unless he gave me permission and anytime we did something that broke the “rules” (like walking in the exit door instead of enter, or not finishing our dinner in 45 minutes or less) we were given a demerit. Once any of us children racked up three demerits, we were placed on restriction - meaning all we could eat for the next week was Spam and a glass of milk three times a day. We couldn’t use the phone, we couldn’t go to friend’s houses, we couldn’t play sports - he even had rules about the clothes we wore (none of us could ever wear the same color on the same day) and the length of our hair. We felt like we couldn’t even breathe without getting in trouble, and somehow, we managed to survive all seven years of his militaristic treatment - but we haven’t forgotten and he shouldn’t be allowed to either. 

I called up my old caseworker and asked if I could bring charges against him. Even if nothing comes of it, I just want my entire town to know what he did so he can never do it to anyone else again.