Backbone

By Jade Marcs

Backbone is the true story of one woman who is pliable, easygoing, and easily manipulated. Through strength and courage, she finds the self-reliance and the backbone to stand up for herself and fight through the surreal obstacles that are carved out for her. With the woman being helped by family and friends, her resilience will help her overcome the trials and tragedies that she has endured, to continue to move forward.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684985814

Book preview

BACKBONE

JADE MARCS

Copyright © 2022 Jade Marcs

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2022

The stories in this book reflect the author’s recollection of events. Some names, locations, and identifying characters have been changed to protect the privacy of those depicted. Dialogue has been re-created from memory. It’s a story of courage, strength, and resilience to get through difficult obstacles.

ISBN 978-1-68498-580-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68498-581-4 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my beloved children.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Systems Develop

Chapter 2: Varicella

Chapter 3: Reproduction

Chapter 4: Skeletons in the Closet

Chapter 5: Miscarriage

Chapter 6: Malignant Mass

Chapter 7: Lacrimation

Chapter 8: Cubital Tunnel Syndrome

Chapter 9: Virus

Chapter 10: Cardiac Arrest

CHAPTER 1

Systems Develop

Early in the morning on a brisk fall day, my mom, Matilda, told me it was time to get out of bed. At age five, it was my first day of kindergarten. I was so excited to put on my new dress and shoes. I was not very thrilled when it was time for my mom to brush my straight long brown hair. It was always in knots when I woke up in the morning and hurt when she brushed it. Cereal and milk were usually the breakfast choice. When it was time to go, we left our little white house in Providence, Rhode Island, and went down the street to the elementary school.

When we arrived at the school, there were kids and parents everywhere. Many kids were crying and screaming. One little girl was grasping tightly on to her mom’s leg so hard, she couldn’t move. Another boy was so scared, he peed his pants, and one angry little boy even bit the teacher. I was so scared to leave my mom, too, but I was brave. I kissed her, and said, See you later, Mommy. Inside the schoolroom, there were blocks, books, and a play store where you could pretend to shop for groceries and pay with fake money. It looked like it was really fun. We played with almost everything and we even had time to go outside and play for a while.

It was only a few hours before the bell rang and it was time to go home. We all formed a straight line in front of the door. I was so excited to see my mom. They opened the door and let us out in a small courtyard. I didn’t see my mom yet, but a skinny tall man I had never seen before came up to me and said my mom told him to pick me up and that I should go with him. I was so scared I ran to a teacher, just as I saw my mom pulling up. My mom and nana always told me and my nine-year-old sister, Sherry, to never talk to or go with strangers. My brother James was only an infant, so he wouldn’t understand yet.

I, unlike my siblings, really liked school. We lived with only my mom. My parents were divorced. My sister and I would periodically see our dad on an occasional Sunday until I was about eleven. He would take us to the penny candy store. Then I don’t remember seeing him much at all after that. It was hard for my mom to be a single mother of three, and there was a toy poodle named Petite.

Living in Providence then was quite safe. We would play hide-and-seek until the streetlights came on. It was perfectly okay to leave your windows open back then. We could play in the street and ride our bikes.

I shared a bedroom upstairs with my older sister. It was an attic with slanted ceilings. It was the length of the house, and it was very roomy. Downstairs, my younger brother was able to have his own room next to my mother’s room. We had a little fenced-in backyard with a swing set. Every Saturday, we would do our chores and help my mom clean the house. We had to do chores before we would be able to go outside and play. My sister and I shared washing the dishes, she had odd days and I had even days.

On Sunday mornings, my mom would drop us off at the nearby church. Then she would pick us up when it was over. We always used to ask her why she never came in with us, and she said it was because she was divorced. In the eyes of God in the Catholic Church, divorce was a sin.

When my sister, my brother, and I were young, on Christmas Eve, my mom would sleep on the couch so we wouldn’t be able to go near the tree to see what Santa brought for us. Our Santa did not wrap most gifts—since my mom was a single mom and had to do everything all by herself for three kids. My sister and I would wake up very early on Christmas morning to go downstairs and wake my brother up. I remember my sister and I would draw a diagram of the staircase. We would mark which stair creaked so we would avoid it, not to make noise. We were very quiet so we would not wake my mom. Once we made it down the stairs, we slowly and carefully would go into my brother’s room and wake him up. Then we would quietly look in the living room to see what was under the tree, trying not to wake my mom, who was sleeping on the couch. Of course, we never realized that she was up until one in the morning playing Santa.

When we were older, we all looked forward to our traditional Christmas Eve. We would all get together every year at my mom’s house. My mom would make Italian spaghetti aglio e olio, which is spaghetti with olive oil, fresh garlic, and topped off with tuna. My sister would make baked haddock. I would always make a huge salad with all the fixings. I also made my mom’s favorite chocolate cake with whipped-cream frosting. Everyone always came with bags and bags of presents. It was always a good time and great food.

My grandparents, my mother’s parents, were always over at our house. They only lived a couple of miles away. They were a big help to my mom. My grandfather was