Tag: lies

Witnessing Infidelity…..Like Woe..

It was the summer of 1993, and my parents were back together, mom moved into the apartment. The first thing was to get on me about the stickers I placed on her face in every single picture in the apartment, then unleashed on my dad for allowing it.

Within seconds my dad lashed back for the first time and put her in her place and gladly pointed at the door. Jackie’s bark ended abruptly and the day moved onwards to some family function, I don’t remember exactly what it was for, but it was my dad’s side of the family.
Everyone acted like everything was normal like Rose never walked out on my dad. Aunts, uncle, grandmother, cousins, and friends smiled and hugged her like absolutely nothing happened. I was confused about what was going on with everyone and wondering if they were okay. I witnessed being “fake” in a way that would leave a lasting impression on how I would look at these people for the rest of my life.
After a few weeks of my mother being back, I noticed how she was more involved in everything around the house. It was noticeably uncomfortable, and I was correct in my assumption. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my brother, mother, and dad and they bring up for discussion about maybe moving another person in the apartment, and if that were the case, they would be putting a twin bed in our room.

My brother and I had bunk beds, but to move another person in this two bedroom, two baths was ridiculous. What can two kids say to their parents? To answer that question, it’s nothing, not a damn word would make a difference, so we nodded in agreeance.

Two days later this familiar face walks through the front door, it’s Rachel from that guy Dave’s house. She walks in with my mom laughing and giggling like little school girls. I recall Rachel looking right at me with a smile, all I could do was shake my head in disapproval. I looked back at my dad, “really, are you serious.” All he could do was just smile and laugh under his breath.

Throughout my entire childhood and onward, I can recall spending every other weekend at my grandmother’s house. That great woman was Sharon Gray, but all the grandkids called her Moonie. I will tell more about her, and the impact she had/has on my life till this very day, but for now, I will keep in sequence and on topic.

Whereabout was I… Oh yea, so this one weekend during summer break a few friends, and I went on a bike ride. It was to the very same shopping center I mentioned back in the first post, the Ames shopping center.

One of the entrances to the shopping center was on the back side of the stores and wrapped around but along the back was a parking area that wasn’t used to much. The only time parking was used there was during the Hannamore sport fields were being used during any season.
I am going to take a guess on around what time it was when I actually was in that parking lot, but I know it was after 6pm because I knew my parents work schedule.

Furthermore, I knew because of who I have seen in that parking lot and to make sure I rode up a little closer. Then a little closer, slowly drifting up to the car and to mention back then my parents owned a GEO Metro. For those that don’t remember or even know what it looks like, well just imagine a bathtub flipped upside down with wheels (if I can find a picture of that model, I will pass it). So I finally got to the driver’s side window and stopped. It was one of those things you happen to see that leaves an lasting impression and scared for life.

It was my dad, lying back with one hand behind his head and the other on top of Rachel’s head. It was a solid minute or two before he opened his eyes to see me just standing there, in complete shock but at the same time I was like, ” hell yea dad.” Trust when I say that chick was sucking his **** like she owed it money. Let me just say this one thing about it, I understood why he was doing this, and I wasn’t mad or harnessed any ill feelings towards him. When he noticed me standing there, the look in his eyes definitely matched mine but with a calmness and I can only imagine he didn’t want to startle her and then what, she bites his **** off.
That would have been funny but that wasn’t the case, the matter at hand was how my dad was going to respond to this. As he was putting down the window and she was wiping the spit off her lips, I was like “dad I understand, and you don’t have to worry about a thing from me.” Of course he didn’t think that was the case, but I told him not to freak out and to just let her get back to work on that and that I would see him at home tomorrow.
His and my calmness was shocking for Rachel and to my satisfaction,  I rode off into the sunset… Sike, I had to ride back east so into the darkness… That is just as corny, but I like it…
I was like WOOOOOHHHH.. Stay tuned people, the events are going to get pretty intense, but for me to tell the rest, I have to take the next post and explain who’s who.
Thank you so much for the few readers so far, please share and comment on my posts. I know this much, my story is going to touch someone as they will relate and they will know they were and are not alone.

And It Continues……

Meeting the first guy my mom left my dad for. Then experiencing the first time my mother spoke badly about my dad to me.

While I was helping my dad unpack our belongings at the apartment, I remember taking out each photo and placing a sticker over my mother’s face. Each and every picture got a, and my dad asked me what I was doing. My reply was short and direct, “dad, I hate her, and I am glad she is gone.” All my dad could do was shake his head, he knew what she had already done regarding another man and that I was a smart kid.

After a couple of months with going back and forth, I had my first “light bulb moment” as some would say. My mother wasn’t really that giggly type, so when she was acting like a little school girl with laughter, I asked her if she was happy without a dad. She proceeded to ask me how I felt about them not being together, and without a pulse, I said I was not pleased about it. She then asked me how I felt about having a stepdad.

Right there at that very moment I knew how I had been feeling was correct, she left my dad for another man. I told her that I would be happy if she would just tell me why. Jackie said to me that she met this man at her job (when she was a cashier at some department store call Luskins) and that he made her feel beautiful and that all my dad ever did was trash talk her and mistreats her.

Now at that point in my life, my parents did an excellent job keeping whatever issues they had behind closed doors. The only fight I ever saw them have in my life was from my mom starting it as soon as he walked in from work. Either way, I wanted to meet this guy who is apparently worth leaving dad for and only seeing her children part-time.

That weekend my mother picked me up and said today was the day I would meet this guy, and if I recall correctly his name was Dave.

We pulled up at this house in Glen Bernie, Maryland, it was about 35-45 minutes from where my mom lived. I remember going into the house and being amazed at what I was saw. This guy had aquariums full of fish, turtles, lizards (iguanas, bearded dragons, etc.), an assortment of sneaks, in his walls.

Literally, when you walked into any room, the aquariums were on tables pressed against the cutout. This guy Dave had a place strictly for breeding mice and crickets for feeding. Then I met Dave himself, and this guy was an arrogant asshole who lived there with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend. All I remember of those two is the girlfriend, and that is because she was a hottie.

This visit ended up being a few hours due to my mom and Dave getting into this huge fight over her bringing me there. I recall him saying to Jackie is that she had to choose him or the kids.
Well, yet again she surprised me with how she did stand up for my brother and me.

Things are about to spice up, stay tuned…

Click, Click, Click

A story that will having you realizing, maybe your life wasn’t so bad, or was it? When a person is left with the decision to either give up or empower himself to make a difference within.

A story that will have you realizing, maybe your life wasn’t so bad or was it? When a person is left with the decision to either give up or empower himself to make a difference within.

When does someone call it quits? When does someone say they just can’t take it no more? Then on the other hand, when does someone say they will just make the best of the situation? How about that was the hand I was dealt in life so just deal with it? Of course, there are countless ways to ask these questions depending on the scenario and of course the individual.

Each of those questions has an easy, yet not so easy answer and it is entirely up to the individual faced with these questions to answer them. Not only do they have the choice to answer them any way they want, but when do they face the situations or circumstances that had them ask these questions in the first place? To empower oneself not to look down on these circumstances and individuals, whereas being empowered to look at those very things in the face and be humbled?

I am going to share different parts of my life with those who took the time to read this and hopefully someone gets something out of it. Let me start with an overview of myself and my conquest for answers. My name is Christopher, I am from Maryland, I have a younger brother, and our parents are divorced after 20+ years of marriage. It’s almost the end of 2018, so I think it is safe to say this all sounds normal so far, correct? The funny thing is the normality of this family was far from it during the conception of it.

Before I continue I must inform the readers that I searched for years and asked countless questions to people that were family, not family, old friends of relatives that knew them before I was conceived. All this searching to better understand these people that raised me and called me their son, their child and to say they loved me. To only find out things no child should ever know about their mother, father or whoever raised them.

My doubts about my identity started at the age of five due to my mother’s youngest nephew Rob. Rob took it upon himself to start telling me about some other guy being my father and that Patrick was just a guy that my mom convinced he was the father. That moment was followed up by a five-year-old asking his mother if the guy he called dad was really his dad or not. With her just to tell me Rob was out of his fucking mind and not to believe a word that came out his mouth. Jackie’s reaction triggered a memory that raised even my doubt. I recalled a year prior to this, my mother with the assistance of her mother Rose, actually kidnapped me from Patrick while he was holding my little brother outside of an Ames store (similar to K-Mart but back in the early ’90s). I recall them speeding away and us going on a long drive to her mother’s trailer. That in itself became a nightmare leading to the both of them telling me to go outside to play with the other kids on the block, and during a game of hide and seek I was locked in a shed following laughter of the kids. That very moment created my fear of dark tight spaces and the doubt of love coming from my mother.

To Be Continued:

Post 1, 11/28/2018

“You do have a story inside you; it lies articulate and waiting to be written behind your silence and your suffering.”     Anne Rice

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