A couple of months after I left my mothers house I
started wondering what she was like for the 35 years I had almost no contact with her. After my father died she dumped me at my grandmothers and never looked back. She found a new boyfriend in less than a month, and was remarried by spring.
She had better things to do than to waste her time on some hippie kid who drank whiskey and played guitar with old n*****'s in south Dallas. Who did I think I was? I wasn't even old enough to be in a bar, much less hang out at one.
For the first 15 years of my life, she was every where, all the time. And not in a good way. Like living next to a radio tower and picking up the station on everything from the toaster to the fillings in your teeth.
Then she was gone.
I thought I had a read on what kind of a lunatic she is.
But who knows what she was like when none of us were around..
She never played it straight up in her life.
She would leave to "run up to the store for a newspaper," and come dragging back hours later.
She would park me in her car and drive off with some guy. And be gone all day long. Me stuck in some parking lot or heaved out at a grocery store. She didn't MAKE me stay there waiting for her. I knew that when she came back I couldn't cost her 5 seconds of getting down the road or there would be hell to pay.
I wish I could have plugged into their sickness as an adult.
Poor kid. I feel sorry for all his fruitless attempts at keeping the peace between two people who lived for drama.
I never questioned my parents authority. If it were not so, they would not tell me.
I knew how things were at my friend's house. But my friend's parents weren't gaming them.
Today, I would rule over those amateurs. I know them for the rubes they were.
I would be the one who drove my father to suicide, not her.
I would make goddamn sure he knew what a faithless slut she was. Each and every day. I would remind him of all her swinging dick boyfriends.
I would shame him into doing the right thing. Or kill him trying.
I can hear my big smart mouth now.
Me making sure he knew about the lame ass crackers giving her all their lame ass cracker game.
Ah think yew gotta purdy mouth'air sweet meat. Wanna suck my dick?
Big ole titties like em'air ones means big bucks in a wet t-shurt contest.
Sugar Booger, Mindifi polish the hood of my Mustang wif da cheeks a yo ass?
Fucker did what he did any way. I could have at least called him a douche bag on the way out.
I guess I would rather not know everything.
Normal people can't get there from here.