for some strange reason i have blocked out the most of my childhood memories. i told y'all the story of my father pointing a handgun at me, before i was two years old. still to this day i don't understand my feelings on that event. how did i know way back then the power that gun possessed? somehow, in my sub-conscious, that may have been the time that i chose to block my memories of childhood. it might of been the fact that i never was brought up as a real little boy, or the fact that i knew that i was a mistake to begin with.
my parents really had no need for me. daddy was 50 years old when i was born, and mom was 30. yep,........that's right,...........a 20 year difference in them to begin with. now,........what does a 50 year old man want with a brand new, screaming, shittin', crying baby, at his age? I'm nearly 50 now, and that's the last thing that i want to invade my life at the present time!!
besides that, they didn't know anything about raising a boy. daddy only had girls by a previous marriage, and so did mother. I'm sure to say the least that they wasn't ready to tackle this demon seed that popped up in their lives. they got divorced when i was about three years old. i always figured that i was somehow the reason for it, and i very well may have been, but i suspect that mom probably was the culprit in that event.
now,...........listen closely,...............i loved my mother, and have no hard feelings against her in the least. she did as fine of a job raising me as she had the ability to accomplish the task at hand. she was my first love, and i wish that she was still on this earth everyday. however,............I'm going to expose some truths of what life was like with my mom. they are not all pretty, but some of them were. remember,...........she did the best that she could at the time!!
even though my parents were divorced i still was able to peek through the window, and see a battle royal going on between them at several different times. both my parents were barely over five feet tall, and weighed about the same. in other words, if you are going to engage in battle those two were an even match.
let the battle begin...............one night i saw my daddy pull up, and get out of the car banishing my grandpa's shot gun. i guess it was safe to say that daddy had a thing for guns.
now mother always had a way to but the fear of God in me somehow. it was usually with her words. she used to call me Jimmy. she ran into the kitchen, and returned quickly with a cast iron skillet saying to me in a panicked voice, " hide Jimmy your fathers drunk and crazy!!" then she took out the door.
naturally daddy was out in the yard cussing every breath, and swinging gramp's shot gun around. when mom told me to hide i immediately ran to the window, because i knew something was going to happen, and i thought that i wanted to see it. yep, that's right,............i thought that i wanted to see it, but i was wrong!! it was a short battle. for maybe two minutes those two cussed each other for everything. them mom had figured that she had heard enough of daddy's cussing,................she crowned him in the head with the cast iron skillet, and daddy fell to the ground. mother picked the shot gun up, and was still hammering away with on the porch, as the cops drove up. fortunate for her it busted into several pieces while the police man was still walking toward her. if that had happened in today's time, and here in Jax.................the j.s.o. would have shot her dead on the spot!!
the only thing that happened was the officer threw daddy in the back seat of his patrol car, and he was still knocked out, and gather up the shot gun pieces, and he left.
now the scene that i had just witnessed was horrifying to me!! my mother, and father out in the yard screaming insanities at each other, them mom simply knocking him out. i didn't know that she just knocked him out. i thought that she probably killed him dead as a door nail!! daddy was laying on the ground dead, and this wild woman wailing a shot gun on the porch. now,...........do you think that this is a good sight to see when your probably four years old?
to beat all that i had just saw, mother came back in the house, and poured jet fuel on the fire already burning in my heart. she said," your daddy came to kill you!! do you understand?
the sad thing was that i didn't understand. i didn't understand any of it. i never heard daddy say anything about me. how could i? he was way to busy shouting about my mother!!
i guess that i really needed to be in therapy at a really young age, because life was so confusing, and i hadn't even turned five yet. I've saw the engage in battle several times before that, but I'll always remember that as the night that i saw my mother kill my dad!!
if the truth had been known back then, as i now know it. mother did kill daddy, but she done it when she divorced him. daddy went to his grave still loving mom at 70 years old. how do i know this? because those words came out of his lips in my presence one day, about two weeks before he died. i really need to tell you the story of my father's relationship with me, but that will be another time.
actually, this blog is bringing up some deeply hidden emotions in me, and i need to take a break for a while to clear my head and heart. see you back in a bit!!
well,..............a bit was another day. actually i don't want to talk anymore about mother right now. all I'm trying to do is give you a glimpse into this madness that i call my past. this is just the tip of a very deep iceberg. like i said, I've blocked out most of my childhood memories. there is no telling what horror that I've blocked out, and the good Lord only know the reasons why!!
if i was raised in that kind of trauma it a wonder that i didn't grow up, if i even waited that long, to be a serial killer. all in all i feel that i turned out as well as i could. although, I'm no stranger to a jail cell, I've been blessed to avoid the prison system. i guess my biggest problem has always been with addiction, and all the madness that comes along with it.
you know that I've never spoken much about my childhood. this blog started as a self-therapy for me, and it continues to work when i utilize my readers as my sounding board. thank y'all for listing to the madness of my life, or is it just another illusion of confusion?
.........................much love
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