When we met we shared our pain. I didn’t know that it would exasperate slowly
and by the power of intention come home to roost.
So your father was a millionaire that was cast out of his
family and you got to view it from afar, if at all.
Then he met your mother…and then you guys came along.
A distant relative in a black hat flew in from an old money
state with papers from an attorney.
Provisions had to be made for your sister and brother – because they
came first and he had been shunned. But
you had HIM…should’ve taken the signatures….millions gone w a drop of ink.
Your mother was a meek farm girl from the south, but, damn…she
looked good. She clung to him as the
acrid smell of tobacco drying in that oppressive southern heat was too much to
deal with once she hit the big city.
Fathering the first time around was rough, the second time around
proved impossible. Then you went to a
caring family so she could focus on her husband, because that’s what good Bible
belt girls do. They were abusive in quiet ways that family…ways that no one
could really discuss.
His shit got together for a stretch and a new house in
suburbia would change everything. In one
car ride to the country any stability you had was gone. Pretty roses planted around a split fence…that
was all that stayed pretty. The southern
blushing belle faded and bottle after bottle got emptied. He had a little repair shop…Tomorrows service
Today….sometime next week….or when this bender was over.
Car after car smashed but those were the good old days, you
could crash your car, slap your wife, humiliate the kids and the cops told you
to sleep it off.
But time rolls into time – children grow up and only then
learn what could’ve been done, what should’ve been done. Mom was to blame, why didn’t she step
in? Why did she let him sign those
provisions away? That could’ve been YOU
in law school…touring Europe…marrying old money…leaving provisions to the Mid-West
University your whole family graduated from.
You resented your mother – she should’ve been strong and should’ve
looked out for her children.
So you met a woman that did and you married her, but that
destructive gene expressed itself.
And now you resent her for stepping in, stepping up,
speaking out for your own flesh and blood.
After all…the kids have YOU, don’t they?
Not really. You have a new family,
new house, new life…
Recall….
You married a girl.
You divorced a warrior.
She will satisfy those longings. She will step in and do what should be done
and if you look deep enough, peel back enough, you’ll realize the universe has
granted you your greatest wish.
