Family

When I was five years old, my father called from Japan, and told my mother, then mother of three living in a shack of a trailor that every time summer hit the ants would take over like they were Hitler in Germany, and told her that he didn't love her anymore and he wanted a divorce.

Long story short, she filed and they split ways, but not before my mother could shack up with another sailor, my soon to be stepfather, but only because my mother would have been brining into this world an illegitimate child. She was seven months pregnant when they married. He had two children already from a previous marriage to a woman that smoked pot and possibly crack when she was pregnant with my new step brother and step sister. You could tell too. Any time you spoke to them it was like speaking in slow motion whereby sometimes they would just look at you with a blank stare.

So, when I was I don't know twelve I found out that the disgusting pig had raped my brother of his innocence, beginning day one of our new life with the monster. He and his children also defiled me and my sister and we would never be the same. Did she run for her life with her children? No, we stayed, and my mother knew. My brother was kicked out of our house when he was sixteen.

My brother - he had an elevated IQ, and never knew his real father. It destroyed him. My step father destroyed him. My brother was in and out of jail searching for love. He stole his boyfriends vehicles and his relatives checks and landed himself in the Pen for two and half years. At the age of 30, he supposedly died of a heart attack in prison. We layed him to rest in April of 2006. I still think, "I wish I could call Jerry." It's strange thinking of him in past tense. He was my big brother, and a goober! He was so intelligent, but not smart enough to stay out of trouble. He had so much talent, but at an early age his innocence had been taken from him. That's what happens when women that don't care to do right by their children end up pregnant every time they inhale. Don't get me wrong, my mother is my mother, and I still love her, she's all I know.

So I am married, my sister who is possibly my "real" sister is attending school right now trying to get a degree in Early Childhood Education. We're really proud of her, she's putting herself through school. The other two siblings. Well, there father is my step father, and well, they are only ten months apart in age. They are tweny and twenty-one right now. Guess where they live? One lives with my mother in the "double-wide" trailor she moved up into when I was fourteen that has holes all over the place in the ceiling, the floor and in which one of the bathrooms is falling through the floor, maintaining no job, no high school diploma, no GED, no anything except living off of my mother. The other is living with her boyfriend, who is the brother of her ex-boyfriend who got her pregnant at 14 whereby she ended up giving birth to her stillborn son. She is working without a GED, without a highschool diploma changing lightbulbs for $1 / piece all over Houston. She got pregnant with twins recently and lost that pregnancy too.

And, then there is only me left. I graduated Texas Christian University in 2002, with a Bachelor Degree in Psychology. I have worked in over 20 different types of positions, from McDonald's to an Oil Company, from a Home Health Aide to a man with MS, to a Behavior Therapist with Autistic children, from an Event Coordinator to a physician education assistant, from a secretary for a Security Exchange Attorney to a Family Therapist for a social worker, from a Personal Trainer to a Tai Chi Instructor, from an Entreprenaur selling my own homemade power bars, to an assistant in a gym, I have done it all. There's more, but not to exhaust the reader I will stop here. Why so many jobs, why so many tries? I guess to find fulfillment. I never thought I wanted children.

And, then there was Penn. He changed my outlook. He changed my life. When I see children now a certain sense of love comes over me, and I just cannot explain it. I want to watch my child grow up, and to be able to be the best mother out there. I found my calling, and then just in a blink he was taken.

Some people think that I probably need counseling, but you know, it's those that have never lost a child that think this, it's those that do not know what it's like to have some one so precious, so innocent stolen...I say to those people do not pass judgement on those you know nothing about. Yes, I have anger, yes, I am dwelling, but each day that passes gets a little less painful not in a measurable way, but in a fraction of a fraction of the smallest possible measurement...time, and time, and time will repair, but this is the biggest scar that one can ever imagine, and you will probably be able to see it on me for the rest of my life. Besides with all of the money the doctors stole from us, there's nothing left for plastic surgery.