Growing up I felt that invincibility of youth. Even my parents couldn't squelch that. But you can bet your ass that the feeling was not inspired by either of them.
There was never any pep talk about how we could all grow up to be president. We were never given that pitch that anyone could do anything that a person put their mind to. There was never anything real but us all pitching in to over come the latest Barbarian stunt. The self assured continuity that I see in normal people is the thing that my mother deprived us of. If there was any good times, they were transitory and not to be trusted. She felt it was her duty to knock the stuffing's out of any forward progress we made. All she left me with is a compelling need to always keep moving lest something catch me from behind.
The years we spent as a "family" were all punctuated by her random acts of insanity. If my sister and I ended the year attending the same school we started, that was as good as it got.
I can't blame it all on her.
My father allowed her to act any way she wanted with little or no repercussions. To him, the answer to her having an affair was to move across town. As if that would snap her legs shut like a trap.
Even after his death, and with the family scattered to the winds, she made a point of slagging anything we went out and made happen on our own.
You guys know what I mean. That's what brings you here. The little digs slid between two slices of feel good blatherskype. The pecking that sounds encouraging until you run it through your head later and realize her words were a total dismissal of anything important to you. Being an adult on the receiving end of bullshit so outlandish that you can't believe the words actually came from her mouth. And even though you heard them with your own ears, you couldn't make yourself believe she meant them the way she so obviously did.
When you add to the dilemma that her legal issues and my fathers death sucked up any money that might have been set aside as a spring board to send me or my sister to any sort of college. Or to buy a car. Or to put clothes on our back for fucks sake.
If not for my grandparents, my sister and I would have ran around naked, with out food, and I am not so sure we would have made it through grade school.
And we weren't poor. Not like that. My mother had her wants and needs and my father saw to it they were met. No matter who she had been blowing in the back seat of a car earlier that day. And no matter how thoroughly it compromised his children's welfare.
Fuck a bunch of kids needs. And fuck a bunch of what may help their future. Why would they think twice about jettisoning us like old piss from the International Space Station.
Just blow us out into space and see you fucking later.
All we ever got from them was a hard time. Why change?
I think when he looked at me and my sister, we were reminders of how she cuckolded him and it was much easier to dump his two kids than to own the fact his wife is the biggest slut in the county.
My father and mother moved out of my grand mother's house after her murder trial. They just drove away and left me and my sister at my grand mothers. I was too stupid to understand I was being blown off and ended up tagging along later. My sister couldn't get shed of them quick enough. I got the same deal after my father snuffed it. By then I was old enough to see what was what and stay away from the loon..
By god there better be life after death because I am going to stick both their heads in the heavenly paint shaker if I can catch up with them.
I was having such a nice night listening to R.E.M. and now I am on a rant.
Oh well. Rants are where you find them.