By Geri Delfino, April 17, 2019 — I can remember one Christmas [when] I was 12 years old. Every kid on the block had a bike that they would ride around on. I wanted one so badly, but we were so poor. I woke up Christmas morning and saw no bike by the tree, only blouses and some candy, my parents could see the disappointment in my face. I couldn’t hide it. Maybe an hour, an hour and a half later my father had asked me to get his Luckies from the nightstand in my parent’s room.
And there it was, a beautiful Schwinn bike with handle streamers and a basket. I was so excited I started crying. To this day I have no idea how my parents afforded the bike. My family, immediate and extended, was so close because of how poor we were. My mother could have nothing and still give it to you. There were seven of us in our house growing up, my sister and I shared one twin bed while I lived at home. During the winters my little brothers Danny and Steve would come in at night and sneak into bed with us. All four in one tiny twin bed.
My brothers worshipped me. I was the oldest. I’m six years older than my sister and almost 12 years older than both of my little brothers. When I was 16, I used the rest of my paycheck to save up for gifts for them. I would go to John’s Bargain Store on 8th & 5th and buy a pack of little plastic Cowboys & Indians. They were maybe only a dollar or two but my brothers thought the world of them, they were so thrilled it would keep them occupied for hours.
Sometimes I could feel Danny’s heart, and I could tell somethings wrong. I kept telling my mother, but she argued with me and insisted nothing was wrong. She finally took him to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with a Rheumatic fever. He was in the hospital for 10 days and I visited him every single one of them. My mother was an anxious mess and suffered from panic disorders, so she never visited. When he finally came home, he made me a leather heart keychain that I kept for 25 years. I lost it during a move and I was heartbroken.