Wednesday, December 28, 2011

How did this happen?




 My mother's nonsense was given. I never knew of a time when the threat of her wrecking things wasn't omnipresent.  It was her her ruining the lives of the adults around us that spilled over on me and my sister. She didn't turn her sights on me until I was an adult.
There was no period of my childhood immune to her whims.
 In 1965, my father ran his hand through a table saw. He was off work for a few months and he decided to drive through the southwest and up the west coast.
As we made our way through LA,  my father took us to Disneyland.
My mother saw the price of admission and all but threw herself on the ground writhing in anger. Now I know it was all contrived.
That money would be better spent on her. She was not the kind of mother that would pay good money to spend time in the midst of snotty children.
And summer in Los Angeles?  The heat would cause her to perspire.
I was 6 years old. Her histrionics no longer made it to my radar.
I didn't trust either of them.
We walked back to the car and I never gave it a second thought.
With the percentage of sociopath's at large it's a wonder more people are not shoving bodies in the trunks of cars.





Sunday, December 25, 2011

I feel sane about how crazy she is


There are two kinds of people in this world I  hate. Thieves and liars.  My mother  covers them both. Her and her boyfriend robbing a guy satisfies the first category. Not being able to believe a word  out of her mouth takes care of the  second. 
Every single word from her  is a lie. 
I   knew she was capable of bending the truth to suit her needs. But I have never seen anyone so far removed from reality.
After I went no contact, my sister told me about my mothers versions of events  that are beyond shameless.  
About the night my father died. 
She told my sister that she ran into the yard and held his hand. Begged him to hold on, and that help is on the way. 
She never got up from the dresser  where she was applying makeup. 
No one would have blamed her.
She had the presence of mind to warn my grandmother to not  look out the window.  There was no way to0 know what lay in wait outside. He could take a shot  at the open window thinking it was my mother.
That's the only rational thing I have heard her say or do.  There was nothing damning in her actions. Aside from her badgering him all the way to his grave.

She's why he did it.  She revised history to suit her needs.
 After her stroke, I brought her home from the nursing facility. We spoke of catching up on the years we barely saw one another.  I looked forward to hearing the adult perspective of all that. Things from  when I was too young to understand. 
She was  good about answering everything I asked.  She filled in pieces of the puzzle he left behind.
 Or so I thought. 
Any insight I gained about him went up in smoke after hearing that from my sister.
 It was the complete hollowing out of her. 
There is nothing there. 
She was making it all up as she went along.   













Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Nothing up my sleeve







I attended a dozen different schools by the time I was in fifth grade. My father traveled for work, and we traveled with him. Living out of a suit case became second nature and we were like a band of gypsy's. I nurtured fantasies of my mother being left behind and eaten by wolves. I would have settled for us shoving her out of our moving car.
After our arrival in Kansas City we rented a room in a motel. I carried the bags in, and she had me close the trunk of her car.
Too bad she had set her keys inside the trunk. The only set they brought.

Who doesn't bring a spare set of keys?
Who sets them inside the trunk?
Who sends their 8 year old out to close the trunk?

Dealing with crazy people is fatiguing. You ease around them. Always the diplomatic.
 Requesting something had to be planned in advance.
Never a question without first knowing the answer.  Yes or no questions were always NO!
Open ended questions were not much  better.
Eventually I gave up. I got what I needed on my own, or I did without.
My mother drove me to school that first day in Kansas City. I hopped on the curb and she drove away. It was scary to walk in alone. But not as scary as having her come with me.
I was embarrassed to be seen with her. There was always something to set her off so I didn't mind going it alone.
The people in the school office were very kind. I had our phone number memorized.  I had all the right papers with me so I winged it.
People say her actions made me independent.
She instilled in me that the world was a never ending mine field.
And my duty is to disarm them all.



  






Thursday, December 8, 2011

Get off of my cloud




It's hard to blame my mother for everything. It's hard not to.
She split the atom that split the ones after.
If you could see her and know her affect, you would know why I do.
She started this train wreck long before I was born.
Her presence is a miasma that hangs in the air and suffocates.
Her eyes are flat black and lifeless.
They scan for something good to extinguish.
She enters a room, and the room becomes darker.
I always expected to look below her house coat and see no feet jutting out.
Just  her hovering like an apparition.
The  looks that she used to manipulate men are gone.
What is left is flesh bruised by years of taking blood thinners
I will ever understand her zeal for screwing people over.
She is motivated by things that are only known to her.
I wouldn't want to know them if she wanted to tell.
I 've heard more than I ever want to.
As far as there ever being even an attempt at a healthy dynamic between her and those of us that are left.
It's too late.
Maybe in another life.
Not this one.