In My Real Mother, storyteller Tina N. Katamay, explores the causalities of war, mental illness, substance abuse, their effect on her family and how abandonment, disappointments, failures, and the human condition nearly destroyed them all.
In this creative nonfiction Tina weaves together the true and fabricated stories, told to her by her ârealâ mother, the woman who gave birth to two children and then abandoned them in pursuit of her own dreams.
Longing to understand who she was? What was her upbringing like? What were her deepest desires, biggest secrets, failures, and triumphs, and what had happened to the woman Tina loved so completely that she could not abandon her to accept the love of the âotherâ mother, the one who raised them?
In book one of a three-book series, first Tina wants you to meet and her ârealâ mother, Linda Holloway, to share with you the experienced that lead to her leaving. To hear her sadly tragic, but also remarkably heroic stories, as told both during her life and channeled to Tina after her death.
My Real Mother is a beautiful story of REAL LIFE without happy endings.
In My Real Mother, storyteller Tina N. Katamay, explores the causalities of war, mental illness, substance abuse, their effect on her family and how abandonment, disappointments, failures, and the human condition nearly destroyed them all.
In this creative nonfiction Tina weaves together the true and fabricated stories, told to her by her ârealâ mother, the woman who gave birth to two children and then abandoned them in pursuit of her own dreams.
Longing to understand who she was? What was her upbringing like? What were her deepest desires, biggest secrets, failures, and triumphs, and what had happened to the woman Tina loved so completely that she could not abandon her to accept the love of the âotherâ mother, the one who raised them?
In book one of a three-book series, first Tina wants you to meet and her ârealâ mother, Linda Holloway, to share with you the experienced that lead to her leaving. To hear her sadly tragic, but also remarkably heroic stories, as told both during her life and channeled to Tina after her death.
My Real Mother is a beautiful story of REAL LIFE without happy endings.
It was a Wednesday night in 1957, at the First Baptist Church on Main Street, in the small town of Fresno, California. Linda Hall was sitting in the last row, having no idea what the message had been about because she daydreamed through most of it.
It was only the sound of the churchâs pianist playing âHow Great Thou Artâ that drew her attention back to the present. Instinctively, she rose to sing the closing hymn with all the other parishioners, then she bowed her head as the Pastor led the closing prayer. When his prayer concluded, Pastor Ron asked, âOkay, with every head bowed and with every eye closed, I want a show of hands. Who here has accepted Jesus Christ as their personal savior?â
Since sheâd accepted Jesus into her heart at Bible camp last summer, her hand shot up proudly. Curious to see who else had raised their hand, keeping her head bowed, Linda opened her eyes and looked to her left.
The blood rushing to her head drowned out the rest of Pastor Ronâs altar call because there sat the most handsome boy sheâd ever seen. His hand was up, his head bowed slightly, both of his eyes were wide open, and he was staring straight at her. Mortified heâd caught her peeking, Linda quickly closed her eyes and prayed silently, Dear God, please forgive me.
After the meeting, Linda was at the refreshment table when the same young man walked up to her. Putting out his hand, he said, âHi, my nameâs Donald Holloway. Whatâs your name, beautiful?â he asked.
He smiled and Lindaâs heart raced, her face flushed, and her knees wobbled a bit.
Accepting his hand, she answered, âMy nameâs Linda Hall.â
âWell, Linda Hall,â Donald said, âI think we should go for a soda on Sunday.â
It was more of a statement than a question and, not knowing what else to say, Linda responded, âI donât think my daddy would allow it. Besides, we go to church on Sundays,â she added.
âThen Iâll ask your daddy if I can take you for a soda after church on Sunday,â he said.
âWell, Donald Holloway,â Linda said, âIâll tell you what. If I decide I wanna go for a soda with you, Iâll ask my daddy and let you know.â
Later, lying in bed, Linda blushed deeply, remembering Donald calling her beautiful. No one had ever called her beautiful before. In fact, being on the tomboyish side, none of the boys at church or anywhere else for that matter had given Linda so much as a second look. And, while she may have sounded disinterested, the thought of going for a soda with Donald excited her in a terrifying kind of way.
Unaware this night was going to be the one that changed Lindaâs life forever, she drifted off to sleep, smiling.
***
The next day Linda was upstairs in her bedroom, lying on her bed doing homework, when she heard a knock on the front door. Too lazy to get up and walk to the door, her brother William yelled from the couch, âYeah, whatâd you want?â
Hearing the familiar voice say, âIâm here to ask Mr. Hall if I can take Linda out for a soda after church this Sunday,â Linda sat up in shock. âHey, Daddy,â William yelled again, âThereâs a boy at the door asking if he can take Linda for a soda on Sunday!â
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Linda heard her daddy get up from the table and walk to the front door. She held her breath, hoping to hear what they said but she couldnât hear a thing because her daddy had closed the door behind him.
***
In the Hall house, dinner was always eaten in silence, However, that night her daddy broke his own rule, saying, âLinda, a boy came a callinâ here today askinâ if he could take you for a soda on Sunday.â
Sitting between her parents, Linda looked first at her momma, then her daddy, but said nothing.
âHow do you know this boy?â her daddy asked.
âI met him at church last night,â Linda answered. âDo you wanna go for a soda with him?â he asked.
âI donât know. I ainât given it much thought,â Linda answered. Which was a lie, because she thought of nothing else all day.
âLinda, what do you know about this boy?â her momma asked.
âI know his name is Donald, but thatâs all I know.â
Looking at her daddy, her momma said, âI donât think she should go.â Somewhat relieved, Linda said, âI never said I wanted to go.â âWell, I think she should go,â her daddy said. âHe seems like a nice enough young man, and she is the next in line to marry off.â Indignant, and forgetting the original subject all together, Linda asked, âWhat do you mean Iâm the next one to be married off?â Getting up from the table, her daddy said,
âIâve said my piece, Iâm goinâ to the bar,â and walked away.
Following her daddy out of the room, her momma said, âLinda,
Williamâs having dinner at the Russellâs tonight. Iâm gonna need you to sit with Arnie.â
Under her breath, Linda said, âDonât I always?â
After her parents left, Linda washed the dinner dishes, pouting. Ever since her older sister got married, Linda had to watch her much younger brother on the nights her momma and daddy went to the bar, which seemed to be more often these days.
It was laughable because having to watch Arnie was why she started going to church on Wednesday nights. What started out as a weekly reprieve now felt like a curse.
It was confusing, because if Linda had money to bet, she wouldâve put it all on her daddy saying she couldnât go on a date with Donald, while her momma argued she may as well go because sheâd have to date eventually if she was going to find a husband. Could it be her daddy really wanted her gone? Married off, as he put it?
And what about her momma? Why wouldnât she want me to go on a date? She always said it was a womanâs duty to marry. Wasnât this the next obvious step to fulfilling her duty?
Linda sighed heavily, wondering what in the world she was going to do about Donald as the anger welled up inside her, realizing her momma just wanted a babysitter so she could go to the bar with her daddy.
***
When Linda walked out of church the following Sunday, Donald was standing across the street, next to his car, waiting for her. Since the subject of going for a soda with Donald hadnât come up again, Linda looked around for her parents for some direction.
She saw her daddy first. He was standing on the far side of the church in a group of men passing around what looked like a whiskey bottle.
Waving her arms frantically until she got his attention, Linda looked back at Donald, then at her daddy and shrugged her shoulders.
With a quirky smile, her daddy shrugged his shoulders leaving the decision to her.
Linda had to admit the idea seemed exciting, but as she walked toward Donald, her legs felt heavy. Her head screamed STOP. Her legs didnât listen.
Like a cow to slaughter, she thought. Dear God, Linda, what made you think of something like that? With no time to ponder the question, she approached the car just as Donald opened the driverâs door, and mechanically Linda climbed in, sliding across to the passenger side.
Riding in a car alone with a boy who wasnât her brother with no momma and no daddy anywhere in sight, suddenly Linda felt so grown up.
After parking the car, Donald got out, ran around to the other side, and opened the door for her. Looking up at Donald, Linda smiled nervously and said, âThank you.â
Inside, Donald ordered two root beers and a basket of fries. In a nearby booth they sat across from each other in silence.
Finding her voice first, Linda asked, âHowâd you find out where I live?â
Throwing his head back laughing, Donald asked, âDoes it matter?â âIt does to me,â she answered, upset he was laughing at her.
âI hope you wonât be mad at me. I followed you home after church,â
Donald said.
Sounding angrier than she felt, Linda said. âYou shouldâve let me
ask my daddy.â
âIf you asked, he wouldâve said no, for sure,â Donald said.
âI never said I wanted to have a soda with you, and I distinctly remember saying if I decided I did, Iâd ask my daddy myself. Did you forget about that?â Linda asked.
Donaldâs eyes changed, hardening a bit. It was just for a second, but it was long enough for Linda to notice, and it made her feel uncomfortable.
âWell, weâre here now, and thatâs what matters,â Donald said.
She remembered the moment she opened her eyes during prayer and saw the way he was looking at her. There was just something that made her feel uncomfortable. Try as she might though, Linda couldnât put her finger on what.
Hoping to change the subject, Linda said, âThank you for the soda.â
Appearing fully recovered, Donald smiled, saying, âYouâre welcome,â then asked, âWould you like to go for a ride in my car?â which nearly caused Linda to choke on her soda. Her daddy never said she could go riding around in a car, but then again, her daddy had left it up to her. So, giving the question one secondâs thought, she answered, âSure, why not?â Linda answered. âCan I listen to the country radio station?â
Back in the car, excited, she asked again, âCan I listen to the radio?â Without waiting for an answer, she flipped it on, turned the dial to the station her daddy listened to at home, and proceeded to sing her heart out as Donald drove out of town toward the lake.
A few minutes later, Donald pulled over, turned off the ignition and said, âWow, you have a beautiful voice. Where did you learn to sing like that?â
âNo one taught me,â Linda said. âI just always loved to sing. So, whenever I get the chance, I sing.â
Linda was tempted to tell Donald the secret she had told no one, not even Mabelâthat she had always dreamed of singing on the big stage one day. Singing, all dolled up in a pretty dress, just like those lady singers she saw on her daddyâs TV. Afraid heâd laugh at her again, she didnât tell him.
As a child, Linda loved to wander off and find a secluded spot where, with a stick in hand, sheâd sing any song that came to mind. School songs, church songs, songs she heard on the country station. It didnât matter; she sang them all. Even if she didnât know all the words, sheâd make some up. She remembered hiding behind a barn or a building, singing her heart out. With her eyes closed, she pretended she was singing on a stage in front of lots of people. With each note she sang, Linda flew higher and higher.
Moved by the passion of the lyrics, her body would sway to the emotion her voice conveyed, singing from the depths of her soul.
Abruptly, Donald asked, âHave you ever been kissed?â
Surprised, Linda nodded her head yes, admitting she had been kissed before. Okay, maybe it was a quick peck on the mouth by a first cousin, but it was a kiss.
Then, before she knew what was happening, Donaldâs mouth was on hers, forcing her lips apart as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Pulling away, she shouted, âDEAR GOD, NO! I ainât ever been kissed like that before!â
Donald threw his head back, laughing at her again. Linda couldnât see the humor in any of it, still she laughed nervously with him. She truly hadnât meant to yell, but his kiss both frightened and fascinated her all at the same time.
Opening the glove compartment, Donald pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering her one. Still reeling from the kiss, Linda looked at the cigarette and said, âNo, thank you.â
âWhat, you havenât ever smoked, either?â Donald asked, with the emphasis on the word either.
Linda shook her head as she watched Donald light two cigarettes at once. Handing her one, he asked, âWant to try it?â
Not wishing to hear Donald laugh at her again, Linda took the cigarette. Holding it nervously between her first two fingers, raising it to her lips, she took a drag, inhaled deeply, and immediately began coughing.
Again, Donald laughed, making Linda madder.
âIf youâre such an expert, why donât you show me how itâs done.â Linda snapped.
âTechnically, youâre supposed to do it exactly like you did. Here, watch me,â Donald said.
Linda watched as Donald showed her how to smoke a cigarette. She tried again, inhaling slowly, then exhaling a huge plume of smoke, thankful this time she didnât choke.
For the next hour, Linda listened as Donald talked, mostly about himself. Knowing it was getting late, Linda said, âI better be getting home. Daddyâll be worried.â
âOkay,â Donald said, kissing her sweetly on the cheek. âWe better get you home then. We wouldnât want to upset your daddy.â
When Donald pulled up to the curb, Linda jumped out of the car and ran to the front porch. Turning back, she waved goodbye, forget- ting she was ever mad.
Opening the front door as quietly as she could, praying her momma wouldnât hear her, Linda headed straight for the stairs.
Following her, her momma yelled, âLinda, wait a minute. How was the soda?â
âIt was fine, Momma,â Linda answered, yelling back over her shoulder. Racing to her bedroom, Linda grabbed the doorknob and tried to close the door quickly, but her momma was quicker.
Pushing back on the door, her momma asked, âWhere did yaâll go?â
âOh my gosh, Momma,â Linda said, âwe went to the Frosties. Why?â
âIâm just curious, thatâs all,â her momma answered.
âOkay, like I said, we went to Frosties. We drank root beer and talked, thatâs all.â
âWhat do you mean, âthatâs allâ?â her momma asked.
âIt means thereâs nothing else to tell,â Linda answered, closing the door.
Alone in her room, she sat on the edge of her bed, remembering the feel of Donaldâs lips against hers, her body tingling from head to toe with an odd sense of longing.
***
By the time Donald and Linda had been dating for six months, she was proficient at both kissing and smoking.
She and Donald were together before and after school, at the Friday night football games, and even Sundays at church.
They were together so much Linda couldnât remember her life before Donald. And maybe because he complimented momma on her cooking, something daddy never did, Donald had even grown on her momma. Sometimes, her parents allowed Donald to stay after dinner while they went to the bar. Donald and Linda would sit in the living room watching TV with Arnie unless her brother William was home. If William was home, they would pawn Arnie off on him and sit in front of the house in Donaldâs car, kissing until they steamed up the windows.
Skipping school was something else Linda hadnât done before either, but when Donald said he had something important to tell her that couldnât wait, curious, she agreed to skip class with him. They drove to the lake, found a very secluded place and because the day was warm, they stripped down to their underwear and jumped into the water to cool off. Linda swam as hard as she could, trying to put distance between them. Donald out-swam her easily.
Swimming back to shore laughing at their antics, Linda was about to get out of the water when Donald grabbed her arm and pulled her back in. Spinning her around, he kissed her long and hard. Unable to breathe, Linda pulled away. Climbing out of the water, she picked up her dress and quickly put it on.
Walking over to the car, she sat down in the front seat rubbing her bruised arms, wishing Donald would get on with telling her his important news.
Donald followed a few minutes later, and as Linda watched Donald pull on his pants, she noted his eyes were fixed intently on her. His stare annoyed her.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â Linda asked.
Not taking his eyes off her, Donald said, âThereâs something I need to tell you.â
Brushing her hair out with her fingers. Linda said, âIâm listeninâ.â
When Donald still didnât speak, Linda said, âFor heavenâs sake, Donald, what is it? Your makinâ me nervous.â
Then, shocked, she stopped brushing in mid-stroke when Donald said, âIâve quit school.â
âWhat? Why would you do that?â she asked.
âBecause Iâm going into the Army,â he answered. âYou know the United States is going to get into the war in Vietnam eventually and I want to be ready.â
Sternly, Linda said, âJust because thereâs a war goinâ on doesnât mean you gotta quit school and join up now. Youâll probably get drafted after you graduate, anyway.â
Grabbing her again by the arms, this time more gently, Donald said, âLinda, this is something Iâve got to do. Please try to understand.â
Linda sat silently absorbing the news, not knowing how she felt about it or even how his decision to quit school and join the Army affected her.
âAre you ever coming back to Fresno?â she asked.
âOf course,â he said, âboot campâs only for six weeks, then Iâll be back.â
She was staring out the window, trying to sort out her feelings, when Donald produced a little diamond ring.
âLinda, will you marry me?â Donald asked.
âFor cryinâ out loud, Donald,â Linda said, âIâm only fifteen years old. I ainât old enough to be marryinâ no one.â
Laughing, Donald said, âPeople get married young all the time, Linda.â
Thatâs true, Linda said.
Her sister was only seventeen when she got married. And even her momma and daddy got married young. Still, she thought, just because people do, donât mean I gotta.
Holding the ring up, Donald asked, âLinda, will you marry me?â âDonald, you know my daddy ainât gonna allow it,â she said.
âYou thought he wouldnât let us date either.â Donald said. âI will
ask him,â
It wasnât that Linda didnât enjoy being with Donald; she did. Most
of the time.
With sad eyes, Donald asked, âYou love me, donât you?â
She certainly loved riding around in his car and kissing, she really liked that! The thought of him going away made her feel sad, but was that love? Did she love Donald? Linda wasnât sure.
Then Donald asked again, this time louder, âLinda, do you love me?â
Linda knew she needed time to consider her feelings, but not wanting to hurt Donaldâs feelings, she whispered, âI donât know Donald, maybe I do.â
Grabbing the blanket Donald kept on the back seat, Linda got out of the car and walked over to a nearby tree and spread it out. She sat down and lit a cigarette.
A few minutes later, Donald sat down next to her and gently pulled her over to him, kissing her face, her neck, her ears, and her mouth.
âPlease stop, Donald.â Linda said, trying to get up. His kisses were heady, and she felt like she was drowning. âDonald, stop. Youâre driving me crazy, I need to think,â she said, pushing him away.
Donald didnât stop. He became forceful, pushing her down, forcing his way on top of her. Then, placing his knee between hers, she felt him push as if trying to spread her legs apart. Scared, Linda pushed back hard.
âDonald!â Linda yelled, âI said stop!â
She watched uncomfortably as Donaldâs eyes went from hard to near tears in a flash.
âOh, Linda,â Donald said, âIâm so sorry, please forgive me. I got carried away when you said you love me. I didnât mean to hurt to you.â When she did not respond, Donald begged, âLinda, please donât be mad at me. I love you and I want to marry you.â
âI didnât say I love you. I said maybe I do,â Linda whispered.
Gently kissing her cheek, Donald buried his face in her neck. Feeling the warmth of his breath upon her skin, Lindaâs head spun.
âThatâs good enough for me,â Donald whispered. âPlease say youâll marry me.â
So, with his kisses exciting her young tender body and his words wooing her tender heart, Linda whispered, âOkay, if my daddy says yes, I will marry you.â
When they pulled up in front of her parentsâ house, Donald jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger side. Opening the door, he pushed the little diamond ring into her hand and whispered in her ear, âDonât tell anyone about our plans yet.â
Thankful no one was home, Linda ran up the stairs, threw herself on her bed, and cried. She felt so confused. Was it love she felt when Donald kissed her?
Finally, all cried out, she lay staring at the ceiling, remembering the feel of Donaldâs body on top of hers. She could still feel the warmth of his hands where heâd touched her bare skin. The memory caused a warm sensation that started at her feet, running up her legs, over her knees and exploding between her thighs, causing a pulsating sensation Linda knew nothing of.
All of her life, her momma told her one day sheâd get married and have babies because thatâs what women do. What her momma hadnât done was take the time to explain how you went from getting married to having babies. Somehow, Linda felt sure it had something to do with the pulsating sensation she felt down there.
***
One week later, Linda was sitting on the front porch swing waiting for Donald when her daddy walked outside and sat down next to her.
âSo, what are you and Donald up to tonight?â he asked.
Not sure if it was true, Linda answered, âGoing to a movie.â When Donald pulled up, Linda jumped up intending to run out to
meet him, but her daddy grabbed her by the arm saying, âSit yourself down, missy. You wait for your young man to come and get you.â
Just then, her momma walked out onto the porch and Linda jumped up again, this time to give momma her place on the porch swing, next to her daddy.
Running down the front steps, Linda yelled, âWe better get goinâ. We donât wanna to be late for the movie.â
As Donald got closer, Linda could see his face was pale, and he didnât look so good. She felt her own dinner rise from her stomach into her throat because the look on Donaldâs face said it all.
He never looked at her, just her parents. First, he looked at her momma, âGood evening, maâam,â Donald said. Then he turned to her daddy and, without taking a pause, Donald said, âMr. Hall, Iâd like your permission to marry Linda.â
Linda held her breath, silently praying her daddyâd say no.
Clearing his throat, her daddy looked at her momma and said, âYou two are awfully young to marry. Yaâll havenât even finished your school-Â ing yet. How about you tell us your plans, son?â
âThatâs all true sir,â Donald said. âHowever, Iâve joined the Army. I leave for boot camp in a week, and with your permission, Iâd like for us to get married before I leave.â
Lindaâs head snapped up in surprise and she blurted out, âWait, whatâs the rush? I wanna finish school,â Linda said, but nobody was listening to her.
Without even looking Lindaâs way, Donald continued, saying, âAnd of course, Linda can finish the school year and Iâll come for her when I get stationed somewhere permanent.â
âDonald, we ainât talked about any of this. We need to talk,â Linda begged, tugging on his arm. Donald stood ramrod stiff, looking at her daddy, waiting for his answer.
âDaddy, me and Donald need to talk,â Linda said, pulling on Donaldâs shirt sleeve. Donald shook her off, not taking his eyes off her daddy. What she heard next was the biggest shock of all. Without even asking if she wanted to marry Donald, her daddy said, âCongratulations son, I hope yaâll get stationed somewhere close by.â then getting up, he walked into the house, closing the door behind him.
âDonald, Linda said, I think Iâll pass on goinâ out tonight. I donât feel so good,â then she turned and followed her daddy into the house. In her room, standing in front of her dresser staring at herself in the mirror, she wondered what in the world just happened? In the past twenty minutes, sheâd gone from a schoolgirl about to go on a date to being engaged to a boy she barely knew.
Sheâd been so sure her daddyâd say no. And why hadnât her momma
spoken up? It was just a few months ago her momma was against her and Donald even dating.
Nothing made any sense. For Godâs sake, she was only 15 years old. Was she the only one who realized they were just kids? Or maybe it had been her daddyâs intention all along, to marry her off like he said.
Jumping off her bed angrily, Linda threw open her bedroom door, intending to confront her parents, when she heard them yelling downstairs.
Their fighting was another thing occurring more and more lately. Tiptoeing down the stairs, Linda sat at the bottom, listening.
And although she didnât find out why her daddy gave his permis- sion for them to get married, she did find out her daddy had lost his job weeks ago. Linda quit listening when her momma asked where her daddy had been spending his days and her daddy didnât answer. She didnât care to know the answer to that question.
***
Linda was barely awake the next morning when her momma walked in and sat down on the edge of her the bed, saying, âSo, as of last night youâre officially a woman.â
Linda burst out laughing, âSeriously, Momma? Iâm fifteen years old and I ainât no more a woman today than I was yesterday.â
Putting up her hand to silence Linda, her momma said, âYou are almost sixteen years old and youâre engaged now. Which means youâre about to be Donaldâs wife and soon youâll be havinâ his babies.â
âMomma, please listen,â Linda pleaded. âI donât wanna be no oneâs wife.â
âNo Linda, you to listen to me,â her momma scolded. âYou need to marry Donald and get the hell out of here. Your Daddy told me last night he lost his job, again. If he doesnât find work soon, weâll be back to living in the damned car.â
Raising her voice, Linda said, âI donât understand why thatâs a problem. Daddyâs lost his job lots of times and weâve moved more times than I can count, but we ainât never had to get rid of a kid before.â
âLinda, weâve always struggled, you know that. The truth is both Howard and Mabel left home knowinâ it was the best thing for the family.â
âHoward left because he didnât like daddyâs drinkinâ, Momma. And Mabel left when she got married,â Linda argued.
Linda knew things had always been hard for her parents. There never was enough money, but she didnât see how her getting married was going to help much.
âI am sorry you feel like weâre gettinâ rid of you. Please try to understand. Your daddy feels Donald can take better care of you than he can, and he thinks this is the best thing for you.â
âWhat do you think, Momma?â Linda asked.
âI think Donald goinâ into the Army is a good thing. There will be a steady income. Youâll always have a home and there will be money to buy nice things. Donât you want nice things?â her momma asked.
Linda hadnât ever given it much thought, but answered, âI guess so.â Wiping the tears from her eyes, she asked, âStill, I wanna know if you think marryinâ Donald is the best thing for me, Momma?â
With tears in her eyes, her Momma answered, âI ainât gonna sugar coat things, Linda, marriage ainât always easy but, yes, I think your marryinâ Donald is for the best,â
Getting married and having babies wasnât what Linda wanted. She just wanted to sing.
Wondering if maybe there was still a way she could sing on the big
stage and be a wife too, for the next half hour, Linda listened as her momma told her, in some detail, what she could expect on her wedding night.
When her momma finished speaking, she asked, âDo you have any questions?â
With the tears now streaming down her face, Linda asked, âIs it gonna hurt?â
âYes, but only for a minute,â her momma answered.
When her momma left the room, Linda laid on her bed, thinking about everything sheâd said. Linda still wasnât sure marrying Donald was the best thing for her, however she could read between the lines and understood her marrying Donald was the best thing for her family. And she was very curious about what her momma called, âthe coming together of a husband and a wife.â
My critiques are shortlisted to three: The cover design could be better, the editing could be ever-so-slightly tighter, and some of the sex scenes were gratuitous and unnecessary. However, overall, this book was a page-turner. Seeing so much life packed into less than 200 pages is amazing; kudos to the author, "Well done, Tina Katamay!"
As readers, we often judge the lives of others critically and sometimes harshly. Still, this author's writing style has produced a nonfiction work of art with storytelling that reads like a novel and is profound. It creates the full image of a person, beautifully flawed, from the origin of their beginnings to that of their children. The passing of judgment then cannot be brought forth based on isolated incidents but from the perspective of knowing their background; don't judge based on the page of a person's story you found them living; there's so much more under the surface you have no idea about.
Tina Katamay's empathy for her mother is tender, endearing, and awe-inspiring. "My Real Mother" is a triumph. I am incredibly glad it will expand to include two more books to complete the story. However, that being said, "My Real Mother" can stand on its own.
To learn more about Tina and her siblings through the pages of books, to learn more about how patterns of disquiet (and more) were broken, and how she became who she is today will, no doubt, be remarkable. We can be victims of circumstance or find a way through it to rise above.
While there may not be happy endings, there is real life, and in the middle of the mess, pockets of love and heartbreak can still be found mended with gold. The scars are somehow brilliant to behold because of what we can endure to reach the other side where there is the peace we have all been searching for.
As a reader, I am thankful Tina Katamay was released to write this book by her mother. Death may steal some of the answers we seek but cannot take away the stories told. I pray Tina is able to discern truth from fiction for her own sake and that of her siblings and to be confident in the conclusions drawn.
Guided from Heaven to start at the beginning, "My Real Mother" is a treasure within the creative nonfiction space and a must-read. Layered and deep, there are a multitude of perspectives to explore that I wish life would provide enough time for the author to delve into. The various angels and persons mentioned - through the lens of friends, a father, a grandmother, a family seeking protection from a serviceman, those who lived in sanitoriums, etc. Each person is a person first, and their titles are secondary, with each story deserving of a book; when our stories are shared, we wisely begin to understand that there is something to be learned from everyone.
Tina Katamay has found her path as an author, and I look forward to reading everything she unpacks. Thank you, Tina, for bravely sharing your story and for starting at the beginning.