Origami Heart: Diary of an Anti-Social
Introduction: Hi, my name is Carol.
Nov. 22/23, 1964
Near the anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor, my father suffered his third and final heart attack. My mother — whom he derided as a faithless whore on many occasions since their divorce a decade prior — took care of him at Tripler, where he died from alleged neglect.
I wouldn’t know the truth until college, two years later. I didn’t have a father. Walter M. Banks Jr. turned out to be a fraud, the fall guy who adopted me months before I may or may not have come into this world on Nov. 22 or 23, 1964 as a bastard child of rape, or a one-night stand.
Everything about my life is a question mark, a source of shame, unfit for polite company.
But I worked very hard, give or take a few boy-crazy distractions and minor perversions, to avoid the same embattled path of either of my parents, on paper.
I graduated from Aiea High School in 1982. I attended Leeward Community College for an Associate’s in Liberal Arts then transferred to the University of Hawaii to complete my Bachelor’s Degree, majoring in journalism and minoring in English and Political Science. I worked as a journalist, doing what I love, writing, reporting, and layout design. (I still do, online.) I married Ed Weber on Dec. 1, 1990, a year after we met at Nadine’s Music Store. We planned on having our first child, James Scott, two years before he finally arrived on Jan. 21, 2002.
How far did I go in carving out a life for myself?
I’m the only one in the family to get a college degree and work in my field of expertise. I’m the only one in the family to avoid homelessness and having a child out of wedlock. I don’t drink and I don’t smoke. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a whore up for the highest bidder.
I’ve never shaken the sense that I’m a fraud, waiting for my number to come up.