Sunday, March 27, 2011

My parents

I had three parents. My mother who was Dona, bio father Billy, and step father Anthony(Tony).

My parents divorced when I was 2. I can't remember a time when my bio parents were together, thank goodness. They were fire and ice, with more fire mixed in.

Billy was 36 when was born. I think I was a surprise. I take that back, I know I was. As far as I know I was his first daughter. He was wild, a bit of a hippie, and though I am CERTAIN my parents had a passionate relationship, they brought out the worst in each other. My mother was put into foster care at age 13, and her last foster home was to a lady named Mrs. Deaton. She had rental property. My mother collected the rent, and Billy was one of the tenants. My mother was 18 when she married my father and he was 33. I think he must of loved my mother; she was beautiful and wild. Perhaps he thought he could tame her and maybe settle down himself. They were married in blue jeans. She says she thought he was joking when he asked, so she said yes. He played guitar, electric and acoustic. He was very handsome and nothing but trouble. I've been told women liked him quite a bit. He could sing too. He was born in twist Arkansas, the one son with 6 sisters. I have his nose and nothing else. I saw him sporadically until I was age 8 and not again until age 17. I think he would have been a nice man if he could have ever been tamed, but he wasn't the type to settle down. He had a good heart, but men like him seem to always find the darker things in life. He died about a year ago.

Dona was a beautiful enigma to me. My mother was raised by my grandmother and maternal grandmother, my grandma's adoptive mother. It wasn't a good upbringing, though her grandmother adored her. Unfortunately her mother did not. As difficult as my childhood was, my mother's was.....much worse. She wasn't wanted or taken care of very well. I'm leaving much out on purpose. It's not really my story to tell. At the age of 13 she entered state's custody. She bounced from youth homes to foster homes, much of them filled with not nice things. I always donate to teen challenge in memory of her. I'm not sure what was worse her home life or the foster homes. She only spoke bits and pieces though tears. My mother fell fast and hard in love with a man named Chase at 18 years old. He was more trouble than my father actually. She went to New York on the back of a Harley with him one time. Unfortunately, he was in trouble with the law. I'll leave the details of that stuff out. Suffice it to say lifetime has nothing on my mother's story. He left town promising to come back for her. She said she would wait. Then my father asked her to marry him. She did, and I honestly believe she did love him, just not as much as a wife should love her husband. I know that when she married him she never thought Chase would come back. Isn't life strange? Certainly it's filled with sharp curves. Chase came back for her.....on their wedding night. Ain't life just grand. She stayed married to my father though for 5 years. My mother had 3 children and I know that she loved as much as she was capable, some of her children more than others. She just wasn't the type of person who should have raised children or been married for that matter. My mother was wild, like an eagle. She was easy on the eyes, never wore a bra, liked to play pool, could drink a Russian under the table and still be sober(heaven help you when she got drunk though), and I can only remember her smiling a few time in my life. She loved Richard Pryor, Barry White, and would eat anything if it had mayo on it. No one could tell stories like my mother. She would have you mesmerized for hours. When it rained she always let us go outside and play in it and would wait at the door for us with towels. She never opened the curtains or the blinds and she hated sunlight. She came alive when the sun went down. She liked to eat blt's and dipped everything in butter. I know she loved me. She always told me to remember when she was at her worst that she loved me. I'm not sure there was ever a time my mother wasn't in emotional pain. She had a temper that would make you cower in corner screaming for mercy. However, as bad as she was, there was no one better in her finer moments. She was generous to a fault, always gave money or food the homeless, and when you least expected it, she would surprise you and do something so kind or cool. She died when I was 17, one month before Miri was born. I took to bed for days, and my husband held me the whole time. Whenever I think of the ups and downs of marriage and the complete asshole my husband can be, I remember him holding me 8 months pregnant while I cried. I kept screaming it hurt, and he would just rub my back and say, "I know baby". I don't miss my mother. I wish I could say I do. I'm just relieved she isn't hurting anymore. She was baptized when she was a teen, so I hope she is in a better place.

Tony was my step father, though if any man should have been called a father it was him. I.adored.him. I think my parents started off as friends long before it became anything more. I called him Tony until my mother died. She thought it was disrespectful for me to call him dad. She was wrong. I always regretted that. I wish my dad could have married a better woman. Unfortunately, he was madly in love with my mother. There was nothing in the world he would not do for her. She did not appreciate him at all. My dad was born with a physical disability. He had two fingers on each hand, and his arms were half of the normal length. It never stopped him though. He was in upper management for the postal service. He was there for every school function though he worked a ton of hours and traveled. I could talk to him about anything. He loved Elvis, did the grocery shopping, and drank diet cokes like they were water. Though I was not his bio daughter he never treated me any different. My dad loved me, and it was the greatest blessing of my life being raised by him. I only wish I could have been a better daughter. I never heard him say he loved me until I was an adult. My dad didn't like the mushy stuff. He always said show me you love me don't tell me. He never raised his voice, and he treated children like adults. Every July 2nd(the day before my bday) he took me to play miniature golf just me and him. It was the highlight of my year. Not one second of any day passed that I don't miss my dad. He died a few years ago after a long illness. He was the best grandpa my kids could have ever have had. He was understanding, always had time for them, and spoiled them just like he did me when I was a child. If I was awake at 2 a.m. and bored I could call my dad. He rarely slept and always had time for me. I miss that more than anyone could ever know. I miss my dad with ever fiber of my being. The world lost one hell of a good man when they lost him. I'm a lot like my father. I don't sleep well, never need an alarm clock to wake up, and I adore peach ice cream. Oskar's middle name is Joseph. That was my dad's middle name.

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