Her Unspoken Love

By Laura Alexandrescu and Jen Alexandrescu

Laura was born in the 1950s in Romania, a harsh communist country. Her father didn’t want her, and her mother didn’t comfort her. Laura was uprooted over and over and taken from one country to another, all at the whim of her heartless mother. Laura left behind her cherished grandmother, her first love, her dear friends, and everything that was familiar. As soon as she started to get settled in a new place, her mother dragged her away, and she was once again, a stranger in a foreign land. Laura came to despise her mother, and as soon as she was able, she put as much space between the two of them as she could. Was it too late when Laura realized that love can’t always be put into words?

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Apr 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781489728470

Laura Alexandrescu

Laura Alexandrescu lives in Chicago, IL and is a retired grandmother. She is also a refugee and immigrant. As a child, she withstood oppression, poverty, and abuse. Nonetheless, Laura describes her life as simple and wonderful. Laura worked hard but never had big dreams. Her only dream was to become a wife and a mother and to have her own little family. She lived unpretentiously and found beauty in the ordinary. Laura got by with her playful and silly disposition. Today, Laura hopes that with each passing day, she can laugh a little louder and bring a little more joy to those around her.

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Her Unspoken Love

Laura Alexandrescu

and Jen Alexandrescu

Copyright © 2020 Laura Alexandrescuand Jen Alexandrescu.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by

any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author

except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing

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Bloomington, IN 47403

www.liferichpublishing.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Edited by Shannon Medic Young

This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the best of the author’s

memory. While all the stories in this book are true, some places, names, and identifying

details have been changed to protect the privacy of certain parties. For dramatic and

narrative purposes, occasional embellishments, elements of fiction, and minor alterations

have been made. The author in no way represents any company, corporation, or brand,

mentioned herein. The reader should not consider this book anything other than a work

of literature. The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed belong solely to the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2846-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-2845-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-489-72847-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020905177

LifeRich Publishing rev. date:  11/11/2022

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1     Laura

Chapter 2     Sweet Childhood

Chapter 3     School Starts

Chapter 4     Growing Up

Chapter 5     Growing Up Too Fast

Chapter 6     Musketeers

Chapter 7     Boys

Chapter 8     Just Friends

Chapter 9     The Immigrant

Chapter 10   Home Sweet Home

Chapter 11   The Refugee

Chapter 12   Land of the Free

Chapter 13   Land of Opportunity

Chapter 14   Him

Chapter 15   Changes

Chapter 16   The Roller Coaster

Chapter 17   My Boyfriend’s Back

Chapter 18   I Do

Chapter 19   Mr. and Mrs.

Chapter 20   Pitter-Patter

Chapter 21   The Tragedy

Chapter 22   Love Never Ends

Epilogue

Afterword

To my mother, for her many sacrifices

A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world.

It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down

remorselessly all that stands in its path.

-Agatha Christie

Acknowledgments

I want to begin by thanking my loved ones for encouraging me to write my memoir, something I have fantasized about for years. What’s more, my near and dear ones displayed the utmost patience when I refused to let anyone have a peek at the book until it was finished. I decided to self-publish my book and was afraid that any feedback whatsoever, might deter me from going through with it.

I want to express my gratitude to my daughter, Jennifer. First, for having the courage to be honest with me. I can still remember that anxiety-ridden voice on the phone, trying to tell me ever so gently, that the final draft of my book could use some minor editing.

Jennifer, you offered to glance through the book to correct any mistakes I may have missed. But you didn’t just correct my grammar and punctuation, you took pages and pages of snippets and stories from my past and eloquently wove them together to paint a passionate portrait of my life. You interlaced each chapter with your humor and sharp wit. You infused pure, raw emotion. You breathed life into my story.

I also want to thank Jennifer’s dear friend, Shannon Medic Young. As a writer herself, her editorial help and insight were invaluable.

1

Laura

Laura was born in 1952 in Romania, a communist country in Eastern Europe. It was nearly autumn the day Laura came into the world. It was unusually hot and the heat from the sun made its way through the paper-thin walls of the dilapidated hospital. Laura’s mother, Miora, did not notice the sweltering temperature in the room or the paint peeling off the walls. She paid no attention to the bloodstained garments that belonged to the preceding patient that had been thrown haphazardly into the corner of the room. Laura was in her arms and nothing else mattered. She stared in wonder at her little girl’s big green eyes and dark, almost black hair. Frankly, Miora was so accustomed to deplorable conditions and deprivation that she wouldn’t have noticed the poor condition of the hospital even if she was there just to check it out.

Miora only recently had been introduced to Laura’s father. When they met, Miora was desperate to escape her parents’ grip and the suffering she endured as far back as she could remember. It was a desperately toxic environment. Miora was sinking fast and gasping for air. She had to put her oppressive childhood behind her and put distance between herself and the cruel individual she repugnantly addressed as her father.

That being said, Miora did not hesitate to marry the man she met only a brief time ago. Miora wasn’t concerned with receiving the love, stability, and support she never had; she was merely trying to save herself from drowning. Although inconsequential in her haste, he seemed considerate and dependable. He promised to always protect her and take care of her, and she believed him…he was 21 years older than her after all.

It wasn’t long before things started changing. When Miora announced her pregnancy, her husband coldly responded that she better be having a boy. Miora’s excitement drained from her body she wondered if she made the wrong decision, to leave her father by marrying this man. She tried to wave it off, but throughout the pregnancy, he continued to make flippant comments about how worthless daughters are.

Miora was uneasy while she waited for her husband to arrive at the hospital because of his prior remarks. Nonetheless, she was convinced that when he held his daughter, his heart will melt. He will transform into the father Laura needs and deserves. Unfortunately for Miora, things rarely turned out as she hoped.

When Laura’s father walked into that hospital room and was introduced to his daughter, Miora saw rage rushing over his face, working its way through his entire body. He clenched his jaw so tightly that his face became distorted. His eyes narrowed until they were obscured by his furrowed brows. His lips curled inwards, and his breath was rapid. When his face became flushed and his nostrils flared, Miora half-expected him to start breathing fire. Instead, he uttered profanities and stormed off.

There was one bright spot amidst the drama. Laura had another visitor at the hospital, and unlike her father, this visitor was beyond elated to meet her. When Miora’s mother met Laura for the first time, tears of joy cascaded down her face.

Laura’s grandmother eagerly welcomed her first grandchild into the world and into her heart. Grandma was just in awe and told every nurse, or more precisely, every passerby, how much she adored her sweet granddaughter. Grandma was so consumed with affection and love, that the nurse had to tell her three times that visiting hours were over. Grandma finally came out of her ‘baby-trance’ and acknowledged the nurse. Of course, Laura did not know it at the time, but a strong bond was already forming between her and Grandma…a bond that will last for the rest of their lives.

Miora’s mom was as captivating in appearance as she was in character. She and her husband were performers. They were singers, dancers, magicians, and comedians. They traveled from town-to-town entertaining everyone that attended their shows. They made a meager living but loved bringing laughter, amazement, and inspiration to people.

It had only been three or four years since Grandma stopped traveling to stay behind while her eldest child, Tony, fought an extensive two-year battle with tuberculosis. Grandma and Grandpa’s beloved son, who was just 21 years old, lost his fight a short time before Laura was born. It was devastating for Grandma and Grandpa, and they were still reeling from their loss. Although Laura could never replace Tony, when God sent that little bundle of joy less than one year after his death, it alleviated a bit of Grandma and Grandpa’s grief.

Miora and Laura rested at the hospital for two days. When it was time to bring Laura home, Miora’s husband was nowhere to be found. With her baby in her arms, Miora walked at least a mile to the nearest street trolley. The trolley shook violently beneath her feet for 30 minutes while she held onto the wall with one hand and onto her baby with the other. After finally making it home, she found her husband passed out drunk on the floor.

The next several months were incredibly difficult for Miora. Not only was the man she married an awful father…he quickly became an equally lousy husband. Consideration turned into disregard and protection turned into control. His hobby of attending horse races was now a profound gambling addiction. To finance his compulsion to place bets, he used his entire paycheck. He traveled to various cities, near and far, only to come home empty-handed almost every time.

Miora constantly begged him to save his money to buy groceries and milk for the baby. He refused and began selling items from the house to help pay for necessities. He sold clothes, small appliances, and anything else he could get a buck for. Everything was taken discreetly, until one day, he boldly decided that he could get a lot more money selling furniture. Miora came home exhausted from work one night, and before turning on the lights, she flopped onto her favorite chair...or the floor, to be more precise, since her chair had been pawned earlier that day.

As the house got emptier and emptier, Miora eventually hit her breaking point. She knew she had to leave her husband before she and her daughter were out on the streets. Miora divorced her husband in 1953, just shy of Laura’s first birthday. Having no choice, Miora reluctantly moved in with her parents. Miora not only brought Laura…she also brought a little ‘bun in the oven.’

Miora’s parents lived in a narrow, grey building that was constructed in the 1900s. It was a two-story building with a basement and an attic. Four families were crammed inside. One compact bathroom was shared by all tenants and was nestled on the first floor. There was a single apartment on the first floor, accommodating a family of six. The apartment on the second floor belonged to siblings and a number of their friends. An improvised apartment, occupied by an elderly lady, consumed most of the basement area. Grandma and Grandpa slept in a makeshift bedroom at one end of the attic. Their kitchen was in a teeny nook in the basement.

Only a short time after moving in, Miora had her second child, a beautiful girl named Corina. Corina’s features imitated Laura’s, except for her curly blonde hair and big blue eyes. Miora was thankful that she left her husband when she did. She could not imagine what would have happened when her husband found out he had yet another girl.

Miora’s time at her parents’ house was short-lived. It hadn’t quite been a year when they realized that there simply wasn’t enough room for all of them, especially when Corina began crawling. It was now 1954, and they had two babies getting into everything that wasn’t anchored to the floor or attached to the wall. Miora’s parents offered to keep Laura, for now, and offered to make temporary arrangements for Corina. They have good friends who had been trying for a baby for years and would be happy to care for Corina until Miora got back on her feet.

Miora knew her children needed stability. After many arguments and tears, Miora agreed to let her parents’ friends take temporary guardianship of Corina. She knew she had no other choice, and it was the best thing she could do for her baby. She also knew that when she was back on her feet, she was going to do everything she could to get her back. Miora made plans to stay with a friend. She left with a heavy heart but took comfort knowing that Laura and Corina would be loved and well taken care of.

Miora sent money to help support her daughters financially, despite the paltry amount she made. It took her nearly a year to find a small room that she could afford to rent, near her parents. The room was basically a large closet, and it was bare. The single-window room only had space for a small bed, wardrobe, table, and chair. On each floor of the building was a communal bathroom. In 1955, this was common in Romania. There was also a pocket-sized kitchenette outside Miora’s room. Miora could care less about the size. She was supporting herself, without any help, for the first time in her life. Besides, Miora was small in stature herself, standing barely five feet tall.

Children were frowned upon in the building and therefore, nonexistent. Laura continued to live with her grandparents and Corina continued to live with friends of the family. Regardless of how many hours Miora worked and how exhausted she was, she continued to look in on Corina and Laura and spend as much time with them as possible. That is, until 1956 when Corina was three years old. Her temporary guardians moved to a different city and took Corina with them. The city was far…too far for Miora to visit. She worked every day and did not have enough time to get there and back between shifts. It was as if Corina disappeared, and Miora was left with a heavy heart.

As things only became more difficult for Miora, she only became more determined to get Corina back. Miora was as tough as she was little, which is something Laura will admire more and more as she gets older. It took many months for Miora to save enough money for a consultation with an attorney. When they met, the attorney broke Miora’s heart. The attorney told Miora that she had no chance of getting her daughter back. She was unmarried, unskilled, and uneducated. And she already had one daughter that she could not take care of. Miora sobbed uncontrollably as she left but was not going to give up.

2

Sweet Childhood

Miora was incredibly grateful that Laura, who was now four years old, was still nearby and she cherished their time together. Miora found a way to sneak Laura into her building. They spent most of their time in the tiny room that Miora called home. Laura’s mom cooked all the time and loved doing it. She especially enjoyed cooking for her daughter. Miora could not afford expensive food, so she bought potatoes to make french fries and served them with a fresh, simple salad. Laura thought it was one of the yummiest meals. The salad dressing was homemade with corn oil, fresh lemon juice, and a pinch of salt and sugar. When Miora could afford it, she added dill, plucked from the Earth a mere few hours ago. It complimented the flavor very well and Laura loved its’ earthy, slightly sweet scent.

One of them sat on the chair, which never seemed level, and the other sat on the bed, which always seemed lumpy. They chatted and ate their delicious, thrifty meal. Miora asked Laura questions about her life with Grandma and Grandpa.

Miora told Laura that one day in the future, she wanted to get married again and bring Laura home, so they could be together. Miora added that they might go far, far away from there, maybe even to the other side of the world. This prompted Laura to reply in gibberish. She told her mom that it was the language they will use in the faraway land. She was such a silly girl. At that age, Laura had no idea of the ramifications she would face if they were to move far away. She could not grasp the notion that she would leave everyone and everything she loved behind. Laura just listened to her mom talk about the future, imagined a bright and shiny new world, and continued her rambling.

After dinner, Laura went outside to play. There weren’t any other kids in the building, so she used her wild imagination and made up all kinds of games. She spent a lot of time on the rooftop of the building, which stood an intimidating five stories high. The rooftop was flat and graveled and had a thick wooden rail around it. The tenants’ laundry hung across several sagging clotheslines. Those sheets were props in Laura’s games. She pretended to be a soldier, hiding behind a white wall so the enemy could not see her. She was also a ballerina, gracefully dancing around in circles and through the white clouds.

Laura tiptoed over to the railing and look down at the people passing by, while she held on tight. Everybody and everything looked miniature from way up there, even the cars and the streetcars. It was astonishing. She felt gigantic. The people looked like ants, coming and going in what seemed like a rush. She wondered where they were going in such a hurry.

A remarkable monastery with a powerful and radiant steeple stood nearby. She watched it glitter majestically in the distance. When the sun popped out, it was so shiny that Laura had to squint her eyes. She called it ‘the magic tower.’

Laura stayed overnight, squished next to her mom in bed. Her mom told her wonderful stories while she looked out of the crooked window at the faraway moon and imagined it was a large, bright orange in the dark sky. Laura loved oranges. She made up silly stories about flying to the moon and was soon, fast asleep. Miora snuck Laura into her building as often as she could.

Laura liked staying the night at her mom’s place for one more reason. She could avoid the terror of sleeping in the attic at her grandparents’ place. The attic was long and narrow and perched at the top of a long set of crooked stairs. There was only one entryway to the attic. There was