Sitting here and taking pot shots at my mother is the easy way out. It's easy to make snide comments and poke fun. It's easy to point my finger at her and use her as the blanket scapegoat for all that was wrong with our family.
Make no mistake. I can't think of a woe that we were afflicted by, an episode or incident that couldn't be traced back to her cavalier actions.
But to merely point at her and call her crazy is to let her off the hook for behavior I still can't process. She was like dry rot that crept through out all that was, or all that could have ever been good.
Each time she ran us a ground, we came back as hard as we could. Until we gained a head of steam and I'll be goddamned if she didn't run us ashore again.
Each time she ran us down we came back. But each time we came back, things were not as good as they were. Even if there was a recovery from her financially draining us, there was the loss of innocence that could never be replaced.
No kid should have to watch his mother betray his father repeatedly. No kid should be dragged into the complicity of her affairs. No kid should have to be in fear of testifying in a murder trial and knowing his mother life hangs in the balance. No kid should be used as leverage between his parents and no kid should have to listen to his father die out in the yard.
And any one who did have to endure this should never have to have insult added to injury by the person responsible for it all looking him in the eye like he is the fucking crazy one while listening to this mad woman exclaiming,"what'd I do?"
Like all this shit happened in a vacuum and she was collateral damage like the rest of us.
And that is the most unforgivable part of it all. That she was the undoing of everything, but wants to sponge up good will that doesn't belong to her.
I am an adult now. I found my way to where I am now. And I will make it through to the end.
But every single thing about her I can think of nauseates me. I loath her with every fiber in my being. God can not get her off this planet quick enough. I will be sad when she is gone. But no more so than I am now. The sadness won't be from knowing there will never be reconciliation. I know that now. The sadness comes from what could have been if a million different things had gone a million different ways.
Like a torpedo, once she was launched someone was taking a hit. There was no calling her back.
It just happened to be me/us that took the hit.
It makes me crazy knowing I am painted a bastard and knowing she spews that ,"what'd I do" line of shit to any one that will listen
It's like a kid killing both his parents and begging for mercy because he is an orphan.