Needless to say, I never bought another fifth for less than $20 bucks! My mother was so busy with the murder trial, and working two jobs, she simply didn't have time to catch us acting like fools. Absolute proof that a person raised with alcohol has a risk of depending on alcohol. If my life had been just a little different, I may have graduated at the top of my class. I certainly had the ability.
The school didn't bother us too much. To much about not being there. The law class was studying the case as a school project for cryin' out loud! It was simply too much. My mother had to wait until the trial was over, then we sold everything we had except what for what would fit into a 32 foot Winnebago with an 8 foot trailer. We were Florida bound, One Way! Mom had eventually found out what my sister and I had been up to. To say the she was upset would be a Major understatement. She decided that the only way to put our lives back together was to leave Michigan.
It wasn't until about a year and a half after the murder that we were able to leave. The timing couldn't have been better though. It was the beginning of summer, so my sister and I were legitimately out of school, and this gave us time to travel and pick a place to live. We had three months to decide where to live.
At some point, my mom and my favorite Aunt had decided that my aunt and her three kids would travel with us. My sister and I were excited! This aunt was more like another mother and the other kids were more like brothers and sisters. We had spent our whole lives together every weekend and all summer long! It sure made moving a whole lot easier on us. My dad was still here, but he agreed that my sister and I needed to be where we could heal.
So there we were. The motor home was awesome for us kids! We pretended we were Rock N Roll stars on a concert tour. My mom and my sister and I left a few days before my aunt. She would meet us in Niles, Michigan, where she would trade in her car and then we would all be in the motor home.
My mom had a friend in Niles, so he came to the KOA where we were staying and showed us around Niles. I liked it there. We were on the border of South Bend, Indiana. I had never seen anything like it. Detroit can be a little overwhelming for a small town girl, but I can find my way home from Detroit, and I know where not to go!
When my aunt and the kids met up with us, it was "Goodbye Michigan, Hello Road!" We had everything we needed. 32" television with vcr player and tapes. House stereo hooked up in the back. We were happenin. We drove straight through Indiana and into Kentucky. Beautiful! With the extra people we had, mom decided that we were probably gonna need a tent. We went to this grocery store that had a little of everything. They had Glass Bottles of Soda! It had been a good 4 years since Michigan sold glass bottles. Man, there's something about a Coca-Cola in a glass bottle that is so different than plastic. That was also the first time I had ever seen a grocery store where you bagged your own groceries. It was exciting to me. (Nerd) We then went and got this huge tent for the extra people to sleep in. We found another KOA and mom and Aunt Leigh started to assemble the tent.
It had been on sale, and appeared to be missing some parts. They worked on that tent for more than three hours. Everyone laughed the entire time. The advertisement on the side of the box read "quick easy set tent". Eventually, they took it back to the store and got another, this one, they conquered. Then we all slept on lawn chairs under the stars. I don't think anyone even ended up using that tent until we were back in Michigan!
When we left Kentucky, we went to South Carolina. My cousin and her family were living there on a military base. We stayed with them for about a month. I liked it, but I swear it rained for about ten minutes EVERY DAY at the same time! I had my first bad fire ant incident there. We were in Beaufort, the only beach that we had found had black sand and red water. NOPE! I'm a Michigan girl even if I don't wanna be, I like being able to see what else is in the water I am swimming in. Not to mention, I dove in without thinking and came up spitting salt with eyes of fire! That incident cured me of that particular part of the ocean. One day, I decide to go to the base pool. I take my shoes off and set em by a lawn chair. I've got my yellow water proof headset, and I'm happenin. There are a few people down there, mostly military boys....
so I stay a few hours, get a few numbers and I am about to make my graceful exit. I jump out of the pool and dry off. Grab my shoes and as I am putting on my second shoe, it hits me! My leg is on fire and my foot is in even worse shape. I jump back into the pool and am fighting to get my shoes off in the water. No one warned me about the ants, and I had no idea that water would just piss em off even more! I learned an important lesson that day, fire ants can swim. Oh yeah, and don't put your shoes on without checking them if you are in the south!
Mom let us know that she was planning on heading back North, Florida was out of the question. There were no jobs in South Carolina where we were at at the time, but she had talked to a friend in Tennessee and we would go there and see what there was. I was good with that, I had always wanted to go to Tennessee. I think that is where I was supposed to be born.
When we got there, I knew I was right. We stayed in a little town called Bradyville. It was about half an hour from Murfreesboro. I loved it. It was time to start school and I had a choice of three high schools. I ended up enrolling at Cannon County High. I was amazed at some of the classes that were offered and some that were required. Agricultural classes make sense to me, I think they are something all schools should teach. I was also surprised to find out that I could actually be paddled by a teacher. That was grounds for a lawsuit in Michigan. I met more people and got more phone numbers and people were interested in me and what I could tell them about Michigan. Not at all the kind of reception I had expected. In Michigan, a new student is treated like a leper. If she's a pretty girl, she's a whore; heavy a pig; slow basically worthless; and poor, all of the above. Guys are basically classified by money and ability. People wonder why I want to go back to Tennessee so bad. Where I was, we got lost one day, and this lady noticed. Out of nowhere, she came up to my mom and offered her help, that is EXTREMELY RARE in Michigan.
Unfortunately, the job situation wasn't much better in Tennessee. My mom decided to hold a "family meeting" to see how everyone felt about staying or going back to Michigan. I did NOT want to come back here, but I was too young to stay alone. Unfortunately, my mom and sister had visited Houghton Lake, Michigan during Tip-Up Town one weekend. They told me how awesome it was, I told them if we were going back to Michigan, why not Southern Michigan! We were going further North???? I met a lot of cool people up there. But I also became a big time drunk once again. That was all there was to do up there. Probably had something to do with my ability to sniff out a party crowd everywhere I went. Oh, and the fact that there were more that 30 bars up there! It was still mostly undeveloped in a lot of places. So cool, back to partyin in the woods! My mom was pretty lenient by now. I was driving pretty much anywhere by the time I was 14. It was just the three of us, she had a boyfriend, but he didn't live with us. She was a bartender by night, and a cottage cleaner by day, someone had to drive to get groceries. My reward for doing errands was the use of the car. The best part, my mom drove a Camaro.... I even drove to school some days. I truly had it made. I worked in the back of a party store putting returned bottles away during the afternoon, and had a couple of babysitting jobs at night.
My mom's boyfriend owned a bar up there. We spent a lot of time in the bar. There was a band that played there every weekend. I liked the band, and I would play pool or shuffleboard while mom worked. Occasionally, I would stock coolers or something if she got really busy. The lifestyle I had led, I had friends with benefits always, but never a steady boyfriend. I had never even thought about it. One night, while listening to the band, a guy walked up and asked if I wanted to shoot a game of pool. My FAVORITE person to play is ANY man. I was 14 now, and allowed to date. We shot a few games and he asked me to dance. While we danced, he told me his dad was the lead singer of the band. He said he had just turned 21, but he had already asked my mom if he could take me out. We started seeing each other and after about six months, he moved into our house. He slept on the couch for the first few months. I bought a car for $50.00. It was a 5 speed Honda Accord. It had a license late on it from like 1984, we drove that car everywhere. It had no brakes, and a leak in the hydraulic clutch line, but it ran like crazy! I can't believe I never got caught driving that damn car. I had it for two years, about two months longer than I had the boyfriend...LOL. We went back and forth for a little while, but it was obvious we were not meant to be. We stopped seeing each other the spring that I turned 16, that summer I had my first house. By now I had a new group of friends. I had completely quit school and started at the Adult Ed program to get my GED. I didn't really need school. I made money the way I made money. I wasn't a thief, that was a phase. I was better employed than that. I liked Adult Ed. I had my own place, I paid my own bills, I didn't think I needed anybody telling me what to do. I met a girl that led to dating her brother that led to meeting a man that changed my life once again.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Starting Over
Living in such a small area made Wayne's murder about a million times harder than it was in the first place. It happened the week before I started highschool. There were so many rumors, that I just stopped going to school. When all of that happened is when I really got into drinkin'. I had drank beers here and there, but I didn't like the taste, and often got an attitude like my dad's. I started drinking bourbon. I liked Jack and Coke. And it seemed to like me just fine. I went through a period where all we ever drank was jungle juice! That was a blur.... I had my vodka phase, then the rum dumb thing happened. I won't drink rum today if I was paid to. I always went back to "Uncle Jack".
I was only 13, so I pretty much drank whatever I could get a hold of. Mad Dog 20/20. It was on the bottom shelf of a huge liquor stand, and no one could see me behind it. I'm short. I was taking eight or ten bottles a month and selling them to the other neighborhood kids. I sold a bottle for five dollars in 1989! I don't think it costs that today. We were smart too. We would sit on the proch roof outside of my bedroom window, which faced the street in front of our house. That way, we could see mom comin down the street and pull the "we're asleep" gag.
I used the money from my "discounted" alcohol to buy better alcohol. There was one night though, that I just couldn't come up with more than $6.00. A buddy of mine says, "hey, we can get a fifth of Old Crowe, it's bourbon." I'm like "cool! A fifth! I was just looking for enought to get a pint! We're gonna party tonight!"
So the guy goes and gets it and a bottle of Pepsi (not my favorite) and we head to the bonfire. We get about half way there and I take a shot of this bourbon.... Holy Hail Balls!!!! No wonder it's cheap.
I was only 13, so I pretty much drank whatever I could get a hold of. Mad Dog 20/20. It was on the bottom shelf of a huge liquor stand, and no one could see me behind it. I'm short. I was taking eight or ten bottles a month and selling them to the other neighborhood kids. I sold a bottle for five dollars in 1989! I don't think it costs that today. We were smart too. We would sit on the proch roof outside of my bedroom window, which faced the street in front of our house. That way, we could see mom comin down the street and pull the "we're asleep" gag.
I used the money from my "discounted" alcohol to buy better alcohol. There was one night though, that I just couldn't come up with more than $6.00. A buddy of mine says, "hey, we can get a fifth of Old Crowe, it's bourbon." I'm like "cool! A fifth! I was just looking for enought to get a pint! We're gonna party tonight!"
So the guy goes and gets it and a bottle of Pepsi (not my favorite) and we head to the bonfire. We get about half way there and I take a shot of this bourbon.... Holy Hail Balls!!!! No wonder it's cheap.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
The New Billie......
Wayne had a surprise for me and my sister when we first moved into the new house. He came home an handed us two ticket to a Motley Crue concert! We had no idea! My mom never would have let us go, but somehow Wayne convinced her! He was kind of a tough guy. Later mom said he paced the entire time we were gone. I have never forgotten that night! We had such a blast! Being so close in age, my little sister did a lot of the things I did right along beside me. That way, she couldn't snitch me out.
When Wayne was murdered, I felt like I had lost two dads. Something happened the last night I saw him, which is what made me believe that often times, people know when they are gonna die. I was getting ready to go out to the local dance club, then on to my Aunt's house to watch my cousins for the weekend. Wayne knew I smoked pot and cigarettes, and he knew I was a drinker. He told me to never trust anyone, if I wanted pot and something came up missing at the house, it was no big deal. I guess that was his way of protecting me. I know it sounds strange, but he was making sure that I didn't get some crazy laced shit that way. He knew I was gonna do it anyway, so why not.
As I was getting ready to go out, ( I could go out as long as I took my younger sister with me everywhere) he said "hey, check the weight of this package for me, I think it's over, it shouldn't be when it comes back." I laugh at that a lot these days. Then, he said, " We need to talk. You know you can be anything you want in life. All you have to do is believe. You need to take care of your sister and always respect your mother." I already knew that, he told me that all the time. He hated my father for the things he had done to my mother for so long, so this next part blew me out of the water. He said, "Putty, (my nickname...lol) I know your dad hurt your feelings, and you know how I feel about him, but you need to call him and make things right. You never know when your last day is here, and you don't want something to happen without fixing what's broken. He's your dad, I can be here for you and I can be your papa-son, but I can never replace your dad. Be safe tonight, and think about what I said". That was the last time I ever spoke to him.
My sister and I went out that night. The next night, we went to a party at my cousin's house. I was getting bored and wanted to hit the beach to see what was up. Back then we could still have tailgates at the beach, there was always something going on. My sister wanted to stay at the party. We went back an fourth a little and decided I would go to the beach and she would stay at the party. She was 11. I went down town, found a few friends, sure enough, big party in the woods. I went back to get my sister and she just wanted to go back to my Aunt's house, so we did.
The next day, my mom was supposed to pick us up in the morning. We were sitting on the couch when the phone rang. As my Aunt answered, something told both of us that Wayne was dead. We both knew before we were told. I can't explain it to this day, but we knew. While my Aunt was on the phone with my mom, my sister tells me she had lost her virginity the night before. Something was wrong in the way she said it though. To me, her age was no major deal, but something she said bothered me. She had been raped! I couldn't believe it!! My head was spinnig, my mother was just a mess, my sister made me promise not to tell mom. We were afraid it would push her over the edge.
There I was. I had no choice but to keep my sisters' secret for fear that my mother would kill herself. She got up every morning and poured two cups of coffee and just stared at the front door for weeks. She had nightmares and would just scream this unimaginable scream. She had found him just as the cops did on the side of the road beaten to death. Cause of death, his false teeth had lodged in his throat causing him to drown to death. If those teeth hadn't been in his throat, he would not have died. Autopsy showed no damage to anything but his face, if he had been on his stomach he would have lived. The man that killed him admitted in court to listening to him drown before he left him just 2 miles from his home, and was convicted of involuntary manslaughter.
My brother was in prison when all of this occurred. He was told over the phone, and not allowed out for the funeral. I don't believe he has ever had any kind of closure. The man that murdered Wayne got out of prison in 2009.
My sister started acting out a lot within a short time. She was much closer to Wayne, and with everything that happened to her, she was a mess. I mentioned before that she had been sick most of her life..... stress had a major effect on her. I did what I could, but within a week of Wayne's death, I remembered what he had said, and I called my dad. My sister still wouldn't speak to him, but at that time, I needed him more than ever before.
We talked on the phone a couple of times, then came the day I went to see him. It was February, a couple weeks after my birthday. We went for a walk so we could be alone and talk. My dad asked me if I wanted to grab an ice cream from the local ice cream shop. This was big, my dad didn't do public places after I was 10. He just had a major dislike for crowds. We walked in and he told the guy, "Give this girl anything she wants! Today is Father's Day!!!" The man behind the counter looked at him kinda funny and said, "Sir??" My dad smiled and said, "This is my father's day, I got my baby back today!"
When Wayne was murdered, I felt like I had lost two dads. Something happened the last night I saw him, which is what made me believe that often times, people know when they are gonna die. I was getting ready to go out to the local dance club, then on to my Aunt's house to watch my cousins for the weekend. Wayne knew I smoked pot and cigarettes, and he knew I was a drinker. He told me to never trust anyone, if I wanted pot and something came up missing at the house, it was no big deal. I guess that was his way of protecting me. I know it sounds strange, but he was making sure that I didn't get some crazy laced shit that way. He knew I was gonna do it anyway, so why not.
As I was getting ready to go out, ( I could go out as long as I took my younger sister with me everywhere) he said "hey, check the weight of this package for me, I think it's over, it shouldn't be when it comes back." I laugh at that a lot these days. Then, he said, " We need to talk. You know you can be anything you want in life. All you have to do is believe. You need to take care of your sister and always respect your mother." I already knew that, he told me that all the time. He hated my father for the things he had done to my mother for so long, so this next part blew me out of the water. He said, "Putty, (my nickname...lol) I know your dad hurt your feelings, and you know how I feel about him, but you need to call him and make things right. You never know when your last day is here, and you don't want something to happen without fixing what's broken. He's your dad, I can be here for you and I can be your papa-son, but I can never replace your dad. Be safe tonight, and think about what I said". That was the last time I ever spoke to him.
My sister and I went out that night. The next night, we went to a party at my cousin's house. I was getting bored and wanted to hit the beach to see what was up. Back then we could still have tailgates at the beach, there was always something going on. My sister wanted to stay at the party. We went back an fourth a little and decided I would go to the beach and she would stay at the party. She was 11. I went down town, found a few friends, sure enough, big party in the woods. I went back to get my sister and she just wanted to go back to my Aunt's house, so we did.
The next day, my mom was supposed to pick us up in the morning. We were sitting on the couch when the phone rang. As my Aunt answered, something told both of us that Wayne was dead. We both knew before we were told. I can't explain it to this day, but we knew. While my Aunt was on the phone with my mom, my sister tells me she had lost her virginity the night before. Something was wrong in the way she said it though. To me, her age was no major deal, but something she said bothered me. She had been raped! I couldn't believe it!! My head was spinnig, my mother was just a mess, my sister made me promise not to tell mom. We were afraid it would push her over the edge.
There I was. I had no choice but to keep my sisters' secret for fear that my mother would kill herself. She got up every morning and poured two cups of coffee and just stared at the front door for weeks. She had nightmares and would just scream this unimaginable scream. She had found him just as the cops did on the side of the road beaten to death. Cause of death, his false teeth had lodged in his throat causing him to drown to death. If those teeth hadn't been in his throat, he would not have died. Autopsy showed no damage to anything but his face, if he had been on his stomach he would have lived. The man that killed him admitted in court to listening to him drown before he left him just 2 miles from his home, and was convicted of involuntary manslaughter.
My brother was in prison when all of this occurred. He was told over the phone, and not allowed out for the funeral. I don't believe he has ever had any kind of closure. The man that murdered Wayne got out of prison in 2009.
My sister started acting out a lot within a short time. She was much closer to Wayne, and with everything that happened to her, she was a mess. I mentioned before that she had been sick most of her life..... stress had a major effect on her. I did what I could, but within a week of Wayne's death, I remembered what he had said, and I called my dad. My sister still wouldn't speak to him, but at that time, I needed him more than ever before.
We talked on the phone a couple of times, then came the day I went to see him. It was February, a couple weeks after my birthday. We went for a walk so we could be alone and talk. My dad asked me if I wanted to grab an ice cream from the local ice cream shop. This was big, my dad didn't do public places after I was 10. He just had a major dislike for crowds. We walked in and he told the guy, "Give this girl anything she wants! Today is Father's Day!!!" The man behind the counter looked at him kinda funny and said, "Sir??" My dad smiled and said, "This is my father's day, I got my baby back today!"
Becoming A Teenager
Once my parents' second divorce was finalized, life changed drastically. I was 12 years old. I was happy that they were divorced. It had become apparent that if they remained married, we would lose them both! One of my parents would have ended up dead if they had stayed together back then, and it was getting to the point that I wasn't sure which one it would be. Remember the movie "The Burning Bed" ? It was a movie from the early 80's, I believe, about a woman that was severely abused and the only way out was to kill her husband. She got him drunk, poured gasoline on and around his bed, lit a match and got into the car with her kids and drove away. She was found not guilty in court, and I just knew that was what was going to happen in my house.
My father had spent 15 years making sure my mother was too afraid to leave him. Then, one day, when he had been sober for about 6 months, mom didn't come home after work. The next day, she came in and told him it was just too little too late. He had cheated on her and beat her for so long, that she couldn't trust that it wouldn't happen again. I never saw my dad in that much pain in his life. He just packed his clothes in his truck, and he left. I was happy and sad. I loved my dad as much as I loved my mom. I had been taught that alcoholism is a disease, and it's "not his fault" or "he wasn't himself". My life was like one of those PBS After School specials they used to run in the 80's. I was gonna miss my dad, but at least I wouldn't lose him completely like I would if he killed my mom or she killed him.
I remember this school counselor insisted that I have appointments with him. I got in a fight with a chick, it had absolutely nothing to do with my parents divorce, and so they decided that I was depressed and needed to "talk". This is where I became a "misfit". You see, before the fight occurred, I had been an "egghead". I got along with everyone, but remained a loner, but if I had been put into a category, Nerd would have been the one. Social Status: Terminally Broke. Older siblings had been in the same school, so my last name might have well been "Delinquent". I was a straight A student, usually didn't have to open a book, just remembered everything I had heard and seen in class, and passed all of my classes. That didn't qualify a person to hang with the "cool crowd" in my area. I got picked on a lot by one group of kids. I had been beaten up about three times by this group, they would never come at me one at a time. I was walking home from school, and they were about 1/2 a block behind me. One of them ran up to where I was and hit me. I turned around and hit her back, and all of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice, "if you don't whip her ass now Billie, I'm gonna kick your ass when we get home, .... and if any of you other little bitches get involved, I'M gettin involved." It was my mom....LOL.... I was like Rocky, I kicked the shit outta that little bitch, and now I was cool. The best part was that everyone knew my mother had ORDERED me to beat that girls' ass.
My mom's new boyfriend, was actually my older brothers dad. They had ran back into each other, and I had never seen my mother so happy in any memory that I had. He was cool. He taught me a lot in a very small time. He was a 4th degree black belt, and he taught me and my sister how to defend ourselves. Mom spent a lot of time at his house. By this time, my brother was 18, and we had become "'friends". As long as he shared his beer, whiskey, wine, whatever he was drinking, we wouldn't tell mom he was having parties when she was gone. He agreed, as long as we stayed upstairs and didn't bother his friends. This was accomplished through an old heater vent in the floor above the dining room. The bottom of the vent had been long gone, so the top would just lift out and it was big enough for a small child to fit through. I would pound three times on the floor, and my brother would produce a couple beers.
One night, my dad called. He was drunk and angry. It had been about 8 months since he had moved. We saw him on the weekends, but this was a bad night. He told my mother to watch her back, "if I can't have you, no body can." Then he told her he didn't want to see those "bastard children" ever again. My mom told him that she would not tell us that and he would have to tell us himself. She handed me the phone, and he told me I was no longer his daughter and to enjoy my "new daddy". My heart broke in a million pieces, and I was PISSED! I was 12 and 1/2 years old, and my father had dumped me.
Wayne did everything he could to help me and my sister. He included us in everything that he could. We even tore a house down by hand. He was teaching us different martial arts techniques, we were allowed to take out our aggressions with sledge hammers and saws. We destroyed that house, and we enjoyed every minute of it. The house was one that he had bought for the property. It was a mess to start with. He wanted to build a Do Jo and teach kids how to defend themselves. The plans were awesome, but it never happened. My mom and Wayne were engaged to be married, we sold the house my mom and dad owned, and moved to a big farm house that they were going to buy together. About a 2 months after we moved into the house, Wayne was violently murdered. Life would never be the same again.
My father had spent 15 years making sure my mother was too afraid to leave him. Then, one day, when he had been sober for about 6 months, mom didn't come home after work. The next day, she came in and told him it was just too little too late. He had cheated on her and beat her for so long, that she couldn't trust that it wouldn't happen again. I never saw my dad in that much pain in his life. He just packed his clothes in his truck, and he left. I was happy and sad. I loved my dad as much as I loved my mom. I had been taught that alcoholism is a disease, and it's "not his fault" or "he wasn't himself". My life was like one of those PBS After School specials they used to run in the 80's. I was gonna miss my dad, but at least I wouldn't lose him completely like I would if he killed my mom or she killed him.
I remember this school counselor insisted that I have appointments with him. I got in a fight with a chick, it had absolutely nothing to do with my parents divorce, and so they decided that I was depressed and needed to "talk". This is where I became a "misfit". You see, before the fight occurred, I had been an "egghead". I got along with everyone, but remained a loner, but if I had been put into a category, Nerd would have been the one. Social Status: Terminally Broke. Older siblings had been in the same school, so my last name might have well been "Delinquent". I was a straight A student, usually didn't have to open a book, just remembered everything I had heard and seen in class, and passed all of my classes. That didn't qualify a person to hang with the "cool crowd" in my area. I got picked on a lot by one group of kids. I had been beaten up about three times by this group, they would never come at me one at a time. I was walking home from school, and they were about 1/2 a block behind me. One of them ran up to where I was and hit me. I turned around and hit her back, and all of a sudden, I hear a familiar voice, "if you don't whip her ass now Billie, I'm gonna kick your ass when we get home, .... and if any of you other little bitches get involved, I'M gettin involved." It was my mom....LOL.... I was like Rocky, I kicked the shit outta that little bitch, and now I was cool. The best part was that everyone knew my mother had ORDERED me to beat that girls' ass.
My mom's new boyfriend, was actually my older brothers dad. They had ran back into each other, and I had never seen my mother so happy in any memory that I had. He was cool. He taught me a lot in a very small time. He was a 4th degree black belt, and he taught me and my sister how to defend ourselves. Mom spent a lot of time at his house. By this time, my brother was 18, and we had become "'friends". As long as he shared his beer, whiskey, wine, whatever he was drinking, we wouldn't tell mom he was having parties when she was gone. He agreed, as long as we stayed upstairs and didn't bother his friends. This was accomplished through an old heater vent in the floor above the dining room. The bottom of the vent had been long gone, so the top would just lift out and it was big enough for a small child to fit through. I would pound three times on the floor, and my brother would produce a couple beers.
One night, my dad called. He was drunk and angry. It had been about 8 months since he had moved. We saw him on the weekends, but this was a bad night. He told my mother to watch her back, "if I can't have you, no body can." Then he told her he didn't want to see those "bastard children" ever again. My mom told him that she would not tell us that and he would have to tell us himself. She handed me the phone, and he told me I was no longer his daughter and to enjoy my "new daddy". My heart broke in a million pieces, and I was PISSED! I was 12 and 1/2 years old, and my father had dumped me.
Wayne did everything he could to help me and my sister. He included us in everything that he could. We even tore a house down by hand. He was teaching us different martial arts techniques, we were allowed to take out our aggressions with sledge hammers and saws. We destroyed that house, and we enjoyed every minute of it. The house was one that he had bought for the property. It was a mess to start with. He wanted to build a Do Jo and teach kids how to defend themselves. The plans were awesome, but it never happened. My mom and Wayne were engaged to be married, we sold the house my mom and dad owned, and moved to a big farm house that they were going to buy together. About a 2 months after we moved into the house, Wayne was violently murdered. Life would never be the same again.
Let's start at the beginning....
I was born in the middle of a snowstorm. I think that was a sign of what was to come. February 10, 1976. My mom and dad both say I was a very good baby. I was pretty too, I've seen pictures. I had four older sisters and two older brothers, but they were all from previous marriages. My dad had 3 daughters, a son, and an adopted daughter from his first marriage, my mom had a son. Needless to say, there are a lot of us. Both of my parents come from large families. My dad had 2 brothers and 6 sisters, all with the same parents. My mom had a total of 19 brothers and sister, including one that is 8 years younger than me.
When I was born, my mom and dad lived in a motel. They were the partying type, but that was ok, I slept through anything immediately home from the hospital. My mom said I was the easiest child to care for that she had ever seen. I ran my own bath at 18 months. I played in my sand pile for hours, almost never cried. Sounds good doesn't it... It's not all happiness, I was kind of spoiled.
My family is made up of 1/3 drunks, 1/3 Devoted Baptists, and 1/3 drunken drug addicts. And felons, generations of felons. That's not pride you are looking at, it's the simple truth. I guess I am trying to explain what MY "normal" is. I bet I could almost write a soap opera...hahaha... I am not bragging, but I was blessed with an ability to learn very quickly. I knew my ABC's and could count, write my name, name colors, draw clothed stick figures all before it was time for preschool. I wasn't allowed to attend, they said it wouldn't do me any good anyway.
My one full blooded sister was born in September of 1978. She is my best friend, and without her, I probably wouldn't be here to air my dirty laundry to the free world.
My dad told me that I was angry when mom came home with her. He said I was excited at the thought, but when mom was gone, I got mad, then when I saw her, I was really mad! First of all, back then, it was uncommon for the father to be in the hospital where I live. Second of all, they kept the mommy and the new baby for a few days. I was 2 1/2 at the time, he said I told him, "but daddy, can't we get a puppy instead." My sister was sick from birth. She cried constantly. My mom said I would gather up all of my toys and put them by her and say, "don't cry baby, you can have my toys." Doctors accused my mom of "babying" her too much. No one thought there was anything wrong, she was just a big baby. When she was older, maybe 4, they decided she had a spastic colon.
We had an interesting childhood. Our older siblings on my dad's side were kind of split in the way they felt about us. Our brother, one sister, and the adopted sister treated us well, the other two did not. The youngest was the worst. She's 4 years older than me, and as far as she was concerned, we stole her daddy. I found out why in 2009. My dad had been separated from their mom for ten years when I was conceived. However, their divorce was finalized in August of 1978, my sister was born the first week of September, and my parents were married September 30th. It makes sense to me now why they "blamed" us for dad leaving their mom.
My mom's son, Garth, wasn't as bad. He was in foster care because he was a little criminal. He only visited until he was about 14, but he is 6 years older than me, so you can imagine the things he could come up with for blackmail. I can't tell you how many times he got my allowance. He truly loved to bully me and my sister. Our other brother, Bill, is 8 years older than me. He was the protector. They could be quite a team together though.
My dad is a complex character. He was an alcoholic. He also came from a very violent background. He loved my mother too much. He abused her severely for many years. My sister and I were NEVER in any physical danger, but it did a number on us psychologically. Fortunately, it made us both stronger women for all we witnessed.
I'm not gonna go into great detail, I respect both of my parents, mistakes were made, as well as amends. My dad passed away June 30, 2009, he was 62. I see no need to drag his name through the dirt. I will say he was all country, Merle Haggard was his favorite, and just now, as I mention him "Are The Good Times Really Over for Good" starts playing.... He cut iron in a local scrap yard for about 30 years, for a long time, he was paid a penny a pound. I'm talking in the 90's! He would give anyone the shirt off of his back. He worked absolutely every day of his life that he was able and he believed that a man's word and a handshake should be enough to cut a deal. I miss him dearly. I am named after him. I'll tell the story in his words.... "there was this old mexican guy that used to come to the yard for iron from time to time. He always called me Billy Joe, that's not the same as William, but it's close".
He had an awesome sense of humor. He was always pullin pranks on us when we were kids. We'd go camping and fishing and stuff, but the older we got the less it happened. He drove a garbage truck for about ten years. My sister and I would fight over who got to go. I never stayed in the house with mom, if dad was under the truck or working in the garage (we junked metal) I was right beside him. I was more than happy to get him a beer or a wrench. Anything to hang with dad.
The older I got though, the worse the abuse toward my mother got. Dad didn't worry about who was around when he hit her. It could be at home, or in the middle of a party somewhere. He was very violent when he got to a certain point of intoxication. He never did drugs, he drank. He drank a lot. He didn't even drink liquor often, maybe a shot here or there, but always beer. Never less than a case.
My sister and I would make plans on how to diffuse the situation and get mom out of the house. When we went through this, the only way any one could be arrested was if the officer actually saw him hit her. Broken jaws, noses, black eyes, none of that was enough evidence to arrest him. They would make my mom pack us kids up and go somewhere else for the night. The next day, sometimes two days later, we would go back home and things would be ok for a few days.
They divorced when I was 8. Then they remarried before I turned 9. When I was 11 they divorced again, and although that divorce stuck, they "visited" each other on occasion over the years. My sister and told mom that if she married him again we were moving out. We had had enough. I will never forget the day my dad apologized for everything that we had been through as kids and asked me to please NEVER be with a man like him. I promised, and although I have had a couple close calls, I have stuck to my word.
(it's 4am, I'll write more soon...)
When I was born, my mom and dad lived in a motel. They were the partying type, but that was ok, I slept through anything immediately home from the hospital. My mom said I was the easiest child to care for that she had ever seen. I ran my own bath at 18 months. I played in my sand pile for hours, almost never cried. Sounds good doesn't it... It's not all happiness, I was kind of spoiled.
My family is made up of 1/3 drunks, 1/3 Devoted Baptists, and 1/3 drunken drug addicts. And felons, generations of felons. That's not pride you are looking at, it's the simple truth. I guess I am trying to explain what MY "normal" is. I bet I could almost write a soap opera...hahaha... I am not bragging, but I was blessed with an ability to learn very quickly. I knew my ABC's and could count, write my name, name colors, draw clothed stick figures all before it was time for preschool. I wasn't allowed to attend, they said it wouldn't do me any good anyway.
My one full blooded sister was born in September of 1978. She is my best friend, and without her, I probably wouldn't be here to air my dirty laundry to the free world.
My dad told me that I was angry when mom came home with her. He said I was excited at the thought, but when mom was gone, I got mad, then when I saw her, I was really mad! First of all, back then, it was uncommon for the father to be in the hospital where I live. Second of all, they kept the mommy and the new baby for a few days. I was 2 1/2 at the time, he said I told him, "but daddy, can't we get a puppy instead." My sister was sick from birth. She cried constantly. My mom said I would gather up all of my toys and put them by her and say, "don't cry baby, you can have my toys." Doctors accused my mom of "babying" her too much. No one thought there was anything wrong, she was just a big baby. When she was older, maybe 4, they decided she had a spastic colon.
We had an interesting childhood. Our older siblings on my dad's side were kind of split in the way they felt about us. Our brother, one sister, and the adopted sister treated us well, the other two did not. The youngest was the worst. She's 4 years older than me, and as far as she was concerned, we stole her daddy. I found out why in 2009. My dad had been separated from their mom for ten years when I was conceived. However, their divorce was finalized in August of 1978, my sister was born the first week of September, and my parents were married September 30th. It makes sense to me now why they "blamed" us for dad leaving their mom.
My mom's son, Garth, wasn't as bad. He was in foster care because he was a little criminal. He only visited until he was about 14, but he is 6 years older than me, so you can imagine the things he could come up with for blackmail. I can't tell you how many times he got my allowance. He truly loved to bully me and my sister. Our other brother, Bill, is 8 years older than me. He was the protector. They could be quite a team together though.
My dad is a complex character. He was an alcoholic. He also came from a very violent background. He loved my mother too much. He abused her severely for many years. My sister and I were NEVER in any physical danger, but it did a number on us psychologically. Fortunately, it made us both stronger women for all we witnessed.
I'm not gonna go into great detail, I respect both of my parents, mistakes were made, as well as amends. My dad passed away June 30, 2009, he was 62. I see no need to drag his name through the dirt. I will say he was all country, Merle Haggard was his favorite, and just now, as I mention him "Are The Good Times Really Over for Good" starts playing.... He cut iron in a local scrap yard for about 30 years, for a long time, he was paid a penny a pound. I'm talking in the 90's! He would give anyone the shirt off of his back. He worked absolutely every day of his life that he was able and he believed that a man's word and a handshake should be enough to cut a deal. I miss him dearly. I am named after him. I'll tell the story in his words.... "there was this old mexican guy that used to come to the yard for iron from time to time. He always called me Billy Joe, that's not the same as William, but it's close".
He had an awesome sense of humor. He was always pullin pranks on us when we were kids. We'd go camping and fishing and stuff, but the older we got the less it happened. He drove a garbage truck for about ten years. My sister and I would fight over who got to go. I never stayed in the house with mom, if dad was under the truck or working in the garage (we junked metal) I was right beside him. I was more than happy to get him a beer or a wrench. Anything to hang with dad.
The older I got though, the worse the abuse toward my mother got. Dad didn't worry about who was around when he hit her. It could be at home, or in the middle of a party somewhere. He was very violent when he got to a certain point of intoxication. He never did drugs, he drank. He drank a lot. He didn't even drink liquor often, maybe a shot here or there, but always beer. Never less than a case.
My sister and I would make plans on how to diffuse the situation and get mom out of the house. When we went through this, the only way any one could be arrested was if the officer actually saw him hit her. Broken jaws, noses, black eyes, none of that was enough evidence to arrest him. They would make my mom pack us kids up and go somewhere else for the night. The next day, sometimes two days later, we would go back home and things would be ok for a few days.
They divorced when I was 8. Then they remarried before I turned 9. When I was 11 they divorced again, and although that divorce stuck, they "visited" each other on occasion over the years. My sister and told mom that if she married him again we were moving out. We had had enough. I will never forget the day my dad apologized for everything that we had been through as kids and asked me to please NEVER be with a man like him. I promised, and although I have had a couple close calls, I have stuck to my word.
(it's 4am, I'll write more soon...)
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Who Is Billie...
This oughtta be good. It's almost Christmas, and i am beginning to think more. This never turns out well for me. Before i go further, I wanna set a few things straight. #1. I am not writing this for sympathy, pitty, or a bunch of poor Billie #2. This is my opinion on my blog, I will not apologize for what I say #3.I believe in honesty, therefore, I intend to be completely honest about myself. I am not afraid. #4. Some of this will be redundant if you read my blogs, please bare with me. #5 I welcome your comments. Both positive and negative. #6 This blog will most likely be a series of entries as I am a complex human being. Feel free to ask questions and make remarks anytime you wish. And finally, the why... I Have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I have several beginnings, but alwats get a block. Here, it's spontaneous, it's available to interested people, and it's all me. Who knows, maybe someone, somewhere will learn sometging useful to themselves. Sometimes I faulter, but I do still believe in peace for the greater good! That's all for tonight. Thank you for your time. More to come...
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