Sadie's Story

By Sadie Westridge

Sadie was a bright, beautiful child with such potential ... yet her life was destined to be filled with endless disappointment and heartbreak. Learning lessons along the way, she never let anything get the best of her for long, proving that you can find peace in your life if you never give up hope.
Her story takes you through her childhood years, coping with a mother who was afflicted with a seizure disorder and not one, but two mentally challenged older sisters.
Her life began in a time when the world wasn't as understanding towards any of those issues and her story portrays the disappointments and problems that go hand in hand.
Discover what families just like hers must really endure when subjected to such adversities.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781468500714

Sadie Westridge

(Pen name) Sadie Westridge is a first time author whose book is inspired by her true life's events. Sadie lives in New England and in addition to writing enjoys painting, quilting, and crafts. She is the mother of two sons and four grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter One

She sat there on the floor in the middle of the room in her best company’s coming dress. It was peach with little puffy sleeves, and it was short and sweet. The skirt was flared with a little white ruffle on the edge. It was one of those dresses that make a little, little girl’s chubby legs look so precious and sweet. Even more so paired with those tiny white socks she wore that were, of course, covered in Lacey ruffles. Sadie was just under three years old with the shortest dark curly hair cut, making her look more like a boy than a girl. Her chubby little fingers handled the large wooden puzzle pieces with ease, placing each piece in their correct positions time and time again. She was quite the whiz when it came to puzzles.

Yes, company was coming and they were all dressed in the cutest little dresses they had. Sadie’s older sisters played quietly together while Marie, the baby, toddled around the house with her impish grin, laughing at her older sister playing alone on the floor. She was the youngest of the four of girls. She was adorably cute with dimples and gentle soft curls. Not like Sadie’s, the tightest curls ever. She hated them. For as long as she could remember she thought they were terrible. Although, little old ladies thought it was the cutest thing they had ever seen. Were they crazy?!

Her daddy had this habit of mixing up all Sadie’s puzzle pieces, two or three puzzles at a time. Then sitting her down on the floor with all the pieces surrounding her, ask her to put them all together. Oh, she could do it. No problem. He loved this amazing feat when company would come. And today was that day. Company day. Sadie was in her glory with her most favorite puzzles spewed all over the floor, The Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood and Humpty Dumpty. She was ready for the praises that awaited her.

Sadie? he asked, Do you want to put together some of your puzzles? That’s all the coaxing she needed. She loved those puzzles going to it full force and putting them together without a pause, no hesitation, accurately and swiftly. The company oohed and aahed at her amazing talent. Sadie beamed.

My Sadie, sure is a smart one! Look at her go. Only two years old. he boasted, full of pride. Of course, everyone readily agreed.

Those were the days. A couple of puzzles on the floor and everything was grand. She was a ‘puzzle genius’ and the star of the hour . . . . for a short time, anyway.

After dinner everyone sat around the table and talked and talked about almost everything, reminiscing about the good old days. It’s funny how it’s always the good old days and the past that was so great. Sitting around the table and reminiscing was something the whole family always did and when Sadie got older it became one of her most favorite things to do. Visiting with company, was always a great time to her. Sadie always looked forward to company.

No one noticed her older sisters very much, Carolina and Rebecca. They were both very shy and quiet. They never made much noise, and they never got into trouble. Rebecca was always sucking her two middle fingers and usually sported a very shy, scared look on her face. She had the most beautiful big brown eyes but she was very slight in build, she was very thin and frail. She was a finicky eater. That’s what her mother used to call her. She was usually the last one finished at the dinner table. They ate dinner at five o’clock sharp every day. Every day except Sundays. On Sunday dinner was one o’clock and then supper at five o’clock was always something informal and light. This pattern would be followed for years and years to come. Their lives were one long repetition.

Looking back with a smile, Sadie often envisioned the events that usually occurred at dinner time.

Rebecca sat there at the table playing with her food, taking a tiny bite here and there and dawdling in between. Everyone was always finished before her and it was quite frustrating to the rest of the family.

Rebecca, aren’t you finished yet? My heavens, you take forever to eat. You didn’t even touch your vegetables. You may not be excused from the table until you have finished. her mother threatened. You need to eat. You are way too thin, Rebecca!

Come on Rebecca, I want dessert. Hurry up!" Sadie pleaded and little Marie was in agreement with her, of course.

Rebecca always became frazzled and replied in her tiny little girl voice, I’m going as fast as I can. Leave me alone! I just can’t eat so fast as you, ya know!

Well you better. Mommy got us some brownies for dessert and I can’t wait any longer Sadie demanded, hands on hips, spewing tones of exasperation! I want my dessert and then I want to go outside and play. Would you pleeeeeze hurry up? Mommy won’t let anyone have any dessert until you are finished. Right mommy? Marie mimicked Sadie and placed her chubby little arms on her hips as well trying to look just like Sadie.

Rebecca, stop playing with your food. Are you going to finish or not? mom asked again.

Yes, I am. I just can’t eat as fast as you guys! This was a regular occurrence and they often went round and round trying to get Rebecca to finish her dinner.

It was as if it happened yesterday, the memory was so clear.

Carolina wasn’t quite as shy as Rebecca as a child, but she wasn’t far behind. She was a nervous child and was always twirling her curly brown hair with her fingers no matter what she happened to be doing. That hair was always being twirled. She and Rebecca could have passed for twins although there was two years difference between them in age. They were the cutest little girls you ever want to see and some of the snapshots taken of them at that age could melt your heart. They were that adorable. Carolina, the oldest of the four girls, to this day has a sweet, innocent disposition and she blushes at the drop of a hat. She is a very emotional person much like Sadie. Sentimental things move her to tears. They have that in common.

Sadie often wondered what things would have been like if Carolina and Rebecca didn’t have the problems that they did. What would it be like to have older sisters who were really older than her, both physically and mentally? It was hard being the third child, but in all actuality the oldest mentally. The natural flow of things was disturbed.

Things like that didn’t matter much in the beginning. It wasn’t until years later that Sadie began to surpass her older sisters in every way. It was confusing to her but eventually she got used to the way things were and accepted everything that they all went through as normal. But who is to say what is normal anyway?

Chapter Two

Sadie and Marie got along so well together. They often fought with each other as sisters do, but underneath it all they loved each other. They did everything together becoming the best of friends. However, being children, they would often take advantage of their older sisters Carolina and Rebecca. It was so easy to do. Sadie could get them to do whatever she wanted. She didn’t realize it at the time that it was because they were different. Challenged . . . . mentally. During their childhood it wasn’t really evident until they got older but it was always there early on and she could feel that something wasn’t quite right.

The four girls always played pretty well together, putting on little plays, or playing school house, or pretending to do office work. Sadie was always the teacher or the boss, and her sisters would do whatever she asked without complaint. Oh, Sadie was never cruel to Carolina and Rebecca but she did take advantage of their simple nature. They were raised to love one another, and they surely did. Marie and Sadie used to romp around the house with them playing horsie, making Rebecca ride them around endlessly on her back.

Giddy-up horsie! Go faster. Come on Rebecca, I want more rides. Come on! Giddy-up Sadie laughed happily, not caring about anything else except having lots of fun. It was her turn to ride and she wanted to get the most she could out of it.

I can’t go any more. My knees hurt. You’re hurting my back poor Rebecca replied. She would whimper quietly. She always tried to do what her baby sisters wanted to keep them happy but this time they had pushed her too hard.

Oh, all right. Me and Marie are going outside to play on the swings! It was exasperating to Sadie that Rebecca was tired out already!

Let’s go Marie!

And Marie agreed, OK, Sadie as she followed along . . . . because Marie always did what Sadie wanted.

Sadie was in charge most of the time coming up with lots of crazy ideas about things for the two of them to do. Marie was her ever faithful best buddy. Together through thick and thin. If Rebecca was not going to cooperate with Sadie, then she wasn’t going to play with either of them! So the two of them marched out the back door side by side onward to bigger and better things, heading straight for the swings. Marie loved her see-saw the most and she always felt a huge victory when they rode on it first. Sadie much preferred the swings but she let Marie have her way once in a while.

Ok, you can have the see-saw by yourself now if you want Sadie said. I am going to go on my own swing Running happily to her favorite swing, the one that was raised up higher than the others, she jumped on. It made her feel like such a big girl to be able to get up on that swing and go as high as she could. That swing set would jump up off the ground, they went so, so high. And there Marie and Sadie would swing and swing and play to their hearts content. They used to sing lots of the crazy Italian songs that their mother used to sing, mispronouncing all the words. Oh they thought they were singing them correctly, but it didn’t really matter.

Chella loona . . . med zooom ah dah . . . mama me me muddy da da!! Oh yes, they massacred those songs and they loved to sing them. Little did they know at the time that some of the lyrics had been changed by their mother, Annie and HER younger sister to an adult version. It’s a good thing that they didn’t sing it right. It could have been quite embarrassing.

Those were the good old days. What a sight they were . . . two little girls swinging and singing Italian songs at the top of their lungs, over and over and over again!!

They must have driven the neighbors crazy.

All four girls played well together most of the time but as the years went by it was clear to Sadie that Carolina and Rebecca would never age mentally beyond their childhood years. As she became older she eventually came to realize that they were different. It showed in everything they said and did. Sadie was surpassing them mentally although she wasn’t sure why. She just knew it to be true. They were very different, Carolina and Rebecca. The only person who refused to realize this fact was their mother. As a result, life become very strained for everyone.

Chapter Three

Sadie’s mother Annie was sick all the time. She had epilepsy, although it took the doctors years and years to figure this out. She did not have the classic seizures which most people recognize. She began having her spells when she was just nineteen years old. They began after she had been terribly sick with pneumonia. She had run a very, very high fever for days. At the time no one knew that was the cause, but later in her life one of her many doctors came to that conclusion. The spells continued on for years and years and Annie was stuck in a sheltered life that her family had created for her to keep her safe.

As Annie sat in her room getting ready for work one morning, she felt a wave of nausea hit her like a ton of bricks.

Oh, no she thought, here comes another one. Oh please, God, help me through this . . . . she drifted off into another one of her spells. There was nothing she could do to stop it. She never knew quite what it was that was happening, or when it would happen . . . . it just did. All she knew was how she felt prior to the spell and each time coming out of it, ever so slowly, losing small frames of time.

Look at the time . . . . I’m going to be late for work. How did it get to be so late? she questioned herself. I must have drifted again . . . . I DID feel sick. How long has it been? How did I get this spot on my blouse? It looks like make-up . . . . she decided as she went into the bathroom to clean up the spot. Unknowingly, she had drifted into her spell while powdering her face. Her hands had grasped the tiny powder puff and crumpled it up into a little ball . . . . then dragged the powder across the front of her blouse. Before she came out of her spell she had dropped the puff to the floor and when she became aware of her surroundings again it was nowhere in sight and she had no idea what had happened or how long she had been out of sorts.

It was 1946 and Annie was twenty-eight years old. Back in those days living in a very strict Italian family Annie’s parents were reluctant to let her do much of anything. They were terribly afraid for her safety. They had seen her spells many times and knew all too well what could take place. They were afraid that something bad might happen to her at any time. She felt like she was never allowed to go anywhere alone or do anything at all. She stayed home night after night while her younger sister Maria came and went as she pleased to parties and dances, to movies, having a wonderful time Annie felt like a slave, staying home doing the housework, making her brothers their lunches for work the next day, ironing their shirts and sitting quietly embroidering her life away. Still at her age embroidering pillow cases and tablecloths to put into her hope chest, saving them for her wedding day. The beautiful hope chest that she started sewing various items to fill when she was only twelve years old. Why was she still doing these things she wondered? She knew she would never marry if she never was able to get out of the house and meet someone. How could she?

One early evening as Annie was cleaning up after dinner, she was thinking to herself yet again how badly she wanted to be able to come and go as she pleased. She knew that she was right and that mama and papa would have to listen to her. This had been nagging at the back of her mind for quite some time now. She wasn’t going to be able to go on like this for very much longer. It was getting to her. It was all she ever thought about. She finally made a decision that she would confront mama when she thought the time was right. Even though the time may never be right, she knew she had to go through with this and try to get mama to understand. She waited to get up her nerve for a few more days before she attempted to confront her. Finally with all the bravery she could muster she approached her mother.

Mama, please, I have been thinking. I really want to go out tonight. I can’t stand staying home and doing nothing anymore. Mama did not reply. Won’t you please give me an answer, mama? she pleaded to her mother one day after spending hours on end doing busy work to fill her hope chest that she would never use with still more hand made items. The minutes ticked by as Annie tried to be calm and patient awaiting her reply. Mama . . . . pleeeeeeeze??! she finally blurted out after she couldn’t wait another moment.

No! There’s always work to do here and your brother Giovanni isn’t here to take you anyway her mother retorted. You know I don’t allow you to go anywhere without Giovanni.

It’s not fair, mama! I am older than Maria and she goes everywhere anytime she wants. Why can’t I go and do the things she does? Why does Giovanni have to go with me every time? Why? I know you worry about me, mama, but you don’t have to. I am old enough. Give me one good reason why? she demanded.

Because I said so that’s why, and not another word! You are not going out and that’s final! And that WAS final. You didn’t argue with mama. Italian mothers did not put up with any back talk. Ever. Her mother was as strict as they come.

Mama felt so bad having to be so severely strict with only Annie, but she loved her daughter and was not about to let something happen to her. She just had to remain firm and that’s all there was to it. She couldn’t let her children walk all over her, no matter how old they were getting. She was still the mother and she wouldn’t be argued with.

One time when Annie was much younger she decided that she wanted to grow her hair long. Mama didn’t approve of this idea. Mama thought that it would be way too much work for Annie and that she knew what was best for her. Annie begged and begged and begged driving everyone crazy with her pleading.

Annie, I am sick of listening to you and arguing with you about this. If I let you grow your hair long, you will never be allowed to cut it again! Do you hear me? Is that what you want? Mama threatened as she stood there eye to eye with her daughter trying to get through another pleading session.

I am your mother and you will learn to listen to me. If I give in to this for you, mark my words, you will NEVER cut your hair again! I mean that, Annie!

Yes, mama, I know. I promise. I want to grow my hair. I will keep it long forever, mama. I’ll take good care of it and do all the work. Don’t worry. I really want this! Annie replied excitedly. She was going to finally get to grow out her hair.

All right then, it’s decided. You will grow your hair long and you will not cut it again! Mama vowed.

Of course the day came years later after Annie’s hair was so long that she could sit on it that she knew she had to have it cut. Annie became so sick and tired of caring for it. She wore it in braids all the time and she, like any other young woman, wanted a change. She felt like she looked terrible now with her braids wrapped around her head . . . all coiled up. She wanted something more attractive and flattering. She was sick to death of braids.

Reluctantly Annie approached mama and begged her once again, only this time it was to get her hair cut knowing full well that she had promised her mother that she would never cut it again.

No! mama screamed. No! I told you I would never let you cut your hair and I meant it. No!

Annie cried and carried on begging mama to please let her cut her hair. They went on and on over this for weeks. When Papa couldn’t take it any longer he finally stepped in. He was done listening to this maddening bickering back and forth over a stupid hair cut. Without a word to either of them during one of their arguments, Papa grabbed a pair of kitchen shears, then grabbing Annie’s braids, both at once he chopped them right off! The braids fell to the floor leaving the ends of Annie’s hair all jagged and uneven.

There! No more arguing! Her hair is cut! Are you happy now!? I do not want to hear another word about hair cutting anymore! He bellowed. You two are driving me crazy! So Mama, you won’t let her cut her hair? There, now it’s done. Annie . . . . go somewhere and get it fixed properly. You look awful!

With that, he left the room, slamming the scissors on the table as he left. The two of them stood there looking after him in shock. Now Annie had to go to the hairdressers with her hair all chopped and jagged to be repaired. She was mortified, but secretly triumphant to be rid of the braids that she had grown to hate so much.

One November evening when Annie was 28 years old, there was a dance going on that she had heard about at work. She worked in the same factory where her brother Giovanni worked . . . . so he could keep an eye on her! She was sick of staying home where she would be safe. She decided that it was about time to get out of the house. She wanted to go to this dance very badly. She wouldn’t ask her mother. All her attempts to ask mama ended in failure anyway, She might as well take matters into her own hands. She wouldn’t let Mama know there was a dance to go to in the first place. This time was going to be different. As a matter of fact, she didn’t bother mentioning anything to anyone, not Giovanni, not Papa, not even Maria. Not this time. She was determined. This time she was going to go and no one was going to stop her!

I will NOT sit around another night while Maria goes out and has fun and does whatever she wants! I am old enough to do what I want too, and I will! she vowed.

So, after making her big decision that this was going to be the night, Annie got herself dressed up in a very nice looking outfit. She wore a straight black skirt and stockings with seams up the back.

This is very attractive she thought to herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Not bad at all. This will do nicely for a dance on the town.

She wore a lovely rose colored sweater that was so, so soft to the touch, with tiny pearl buttons at the neck and across one shoulder. She put on some face powder and a little red lipstick, her favorite color, and she was ready to go.

Hmmm, That looks good she said aloud. Now all I have to do is get out of the house without anyone catching me.

As luck would have it that night everyone seemed to be busy doing one thing or another and Annie slipped out of the house so easily that she laughed to herself,

Why didn’t I try this a long time ago?! She was quite proud of herself for getting away with this and was finally going to go somewhere and experience life. She hopped onto a trolley and made her way across town to the dance.

When she got there it was such a wonderful feeling, being out of the house, alone, without Giovanni breathing down her neck treating her like a baby. The dance hall was perfect. She could already hear band playing all the songs she loved. People were dancing and laughing and having such a good time. She checked her coat and found a nice table to sit and watch the dancing and enjoy the atmosphere. The tables had floral centerpieces with a single candle in the center. There were beautiful white tablecloths and even prettier tiny napkins that came with any beverage that you wanted to order. The entire place was dimly lit, except for the dance floor. Everything was SO nice and Annie was really enjoying herself at last. This was a first-time experience for her and she wanted to sit there and soak it all in forever.

As she sat at the table closest to the dance floor she ordered herself one of those nicely decorated drinks with the fancy napkins. She listened to the music, watching the couples dance together. She was really enjoying this. She could feel the rhythm of the music and it touched her very soul, oblivious to anything or anyone around her.

After a very short while a young man approached her. He had dark curly brown hair with big brown eyes. He was not particularly tall but he had a very muscular build.

Excuse me, miss, I’d like introduce myself. My name is Bill. What’s yours? he asked.

Hello, I’m Annie she replied.

Well, Annie, it’s nice to meet you. I was sitting across the room over there and he pointed to another table on the other side of the dance floor. I noticed you sitting here all alone and I uh, was wondering if maybe you would like to dance with me?

He was charming and handsome, but there was something about him as she first gazed upon his face. Unfortunately for Bill he reminded Annie of her boss at work . . . . the one that she really couldn’t stand. Ugh, she thought, Charlie Morra!

No, thank you. I am fine sitting here just watching. Thanks just the same she said with a weak smile.

Bill