Here is a picture of me right before the divorce of my parents. (More proof that my eyebrows have always been FABULOUS!!)Up until this point, my life had been okay. Two parents, one brother, one sister and a grandmother who loved me more than anyone on the planet. I was schooled in a rural school with approximately 20 other kids. We had all started kindergarten together and had been to each others houses and numerous trips. Life was great. So, I led myself to believe. My father drank like a fish. My mother was discontent with her life and her marriage of inconvenience. My siblings and I had each other.......and we needed nothing else. No one forced us to love each othere, we were all we had. My parents divorced in 1976. Quite the scandal in 1976. We were a strong catholic family in an even stronger catholic town. My mother was "blackballed", as they say, and we had to start from scratch. This was the turning point in my life. My life as a sibling had ended. My life as a child had come to an end. I was now relegated to the role of homemaker/father figure/supporter/and outcast in a new town. We moved from our little town of Bloomsdale to the "big" city of Ste. Genevieve. UGG!! I hated it. All sense of normalcy was gone. All sense of support and love had just been shattered. Yet, my biggest concern was my mother and siblings happiness. I can remember it like it just happened yesterday. I truly believe adults, that are victims of divorce, mark the day of their parents split as one of the single most life altering moments in their life. It effected me profoundly. I had always been secure and popular with myself and my friends. All of this had been taken from me in about a months time. Switching schools in the middle of the year. Not knowing anyone at all. AND living in a big city. I had always been a country boy. (Yes, gathering eggs, weeding gardens, running through the woods, and not wearing shoes all summer long!) We struggled daily. Shit, we struggled nightly. Mom was working around the clock to support us and I was doing my best, as a child adult, to make her life at home happy. Pretty big orders for a ten year old boy. It made me the man I am today. Literally! 
In the picture to the right I am about 12 years old. I feel as if I am 30. I have always felt old. Look at those kids! To this day I have a hard time believing they are my brothers and sisters, not my children. Rhonda, Chris, and Dennis were my life. My sole purpose for being on the planet. I sacrificed whatever and whenever I could to make these siblings happy. My mother finally acknowledged my lack of a childhood on my 30th birthday! (That is a whole different blog to come!) In this picture we are staying with my Mom's best friend, Marilyn's, because our house had been flooded by the mighty Mississippi, yet again, and we were there for 3 months! PURE HELL! On top of my brothers and sisters, I was also now responsible for Marilyn's to young boys! PURE HELL! Thank god that we didn't stay there long!
From Marilyn's house we went to a 2 bedroom single wide trailer. ( Yes, insert trailer trash joke here! I've heard em all!) PURE HELL! I have and continue to try and block every memory of the three summers in that cracker box without air conditioning. No TV. Cockroaches. And the arrival of Mom's new man. All 6 of us living in this goddamn trailer! Pitiful does not even start to describe it! This is the time in my life that I started working. 12 years old and I began bussing tables for .75 cents an hour to help with the bills. How did we survive? I still had the responsibility of my brothers and sisters, but now, Mom's man thinks he can call the shots! HA! I have never forgiven Mom or her man for this time in my life. So many bad decisions on her part. The decisions affecting everyone of us. Life moved on this way for 6 more years. Then Mom bought the home she died in. We moved there my senior year of high school.
As you can see in the picture to the left. I was very unhappy. (See, my eyebrows even look good when I am fat!) Unhealthy. My weight in this picture is right around 300 lbs. I had become the funny fat family member who took care of everything and cooked and ate everything in site. Looking at this picture now, NO wonder all my family is thin. I never let them eat anything but my scraps! AGAIN, PATHETIC! This picture was a literal turning point for me. I had to regain control of my future. I decided I was joing the air force. A self conscious slap in the face to my mother and my family. I had turned down a full ride scholarship to Memphis State so I could stay and take care of my family. And guess what! My mother gets pregnant with another child! That was it! I was so gone! What an IDIOT! I had seen the reality of my mistake and decided to follow in my FATHERS footsteps and join the military! What a summer that was! Fights, arguments, tears, followed by more fights and tears with my mother. I won though! I just had to lose the weight.
When everyone finally noticed the weight loss they knew I 
was serious about getting out of the one horse town of Ste. Genevieve. In the picture on the right, (NOTICE the eyebrows! Still fabulous!) I am in the pool with my baby sister. She is approximately 9 months old. I am still 20 lbs too heavy to get in the military. My Mom said I looked like a cancer victim. I had lost approximately 100 pounds in a little less than a year. My life seemed as if it was finally on track. So I thought.
I joined the Air Force, traveled the states, and decided to marry my high school sweetheart. This is where the story ends today. The next blog will be about high school and my marriage.
Till then,
peace out.
No comments:
Post a Comment