It's a shame that I am writing about a topic that I should know the most about and yet I am having trouble figuring out where to start or how to describe it. I'm going to keep names out as my intention is not to call people out. This is probably more therapy for myself since real therapy is too expensive. I think this is the first time I have actually wrote this out. Perhaps its because of my mom's recent attempts to go on a talk show to air our dirty laundry to the world. I wasn't able to go but it would have been nice to have a three day vacation in New York.
I know the stories from people in my family and my mother denies them all. She refuses to take responsibility for any of her actions. I grew up with her telling me how she was the black sheep of the family who was constantly victimized. She refused to be involved in family events and the villain of her stories depends on who was alive at the time. While my grandmother was alive she was always the one to blame. My grandfather was to blame after she died. Someone always corrupted me and set me against my her because I guess I could never have figured it out on my own. Now that both of her parents are done she has denied my relation to her.
The fact is that none of my earliest memories include my mother. I remember in the second grade I had a terrible time learning to read and it was my grandmother who spent the long nights trying to help me learn. The few times I do recall are things that were traumatic to me as a child.
I do recall some of the time I spent in Tulsa with her during my first grade year. I know it wasn't the full year because part of the year was spent in school at my grandparents. I remember the wonderful stories my sister told me after spending one summer with our mother and her new husband. On my sisters return, I decided to go to Tulsa for a while. I don't recall if I was actually given a choice but I do recall how quickly those stories my sister told seemed to be lies. The house she described staying in was not the house were in. In fact, we had moved into a second story apartment in front of some low income day care. I remember a large shopping center being across the street.
About this time was when Michael Jackson's Thriller album came out. It was one of my first records purchased. Initially, I remember being enrolled in a good school. It was bright and fun. That doesn't last as I was soon enrolled in a private school where a foreign language and computers were required for first grade students. The place required a dress code and was cold. It was probably one of the worst environments for a child to be in because I only remembered being scared there. The walls were bare red bricks for the most part. The daycare had more in common with the bare metal buildings at the fair grounds. It was like a large hanger with what seemed like army surplus cots in rows. You laid down until someone come got you when you're parents arrived. The food service was like a soup kitchen.
This soon became worse as things got bad between my mother and her husband. I recall my sister being there and my mother telling us to hide. We ran for mom's bed room and crawled under the head board of the water bed crying in fear. This soon gave way to memories of my grandfather coming to our rescue. This was after step-dad had vandalized the apartment even destroying most of her clothes. I recalling being in the truck watching my grandfather who was an old man at the time but still an opposing individual. He slapped the keys from the hand of a soon to be ex dad.
I remember the trip back to the only home I knew as a child which was that of my maternal grandparents. The only reason I remember the trip was because a blue, round pillow that I had used nearly every night to cry into was packed lightly and blew out of the truck bed while traveling down the highway. This pillow had been the only source of comfort while in Tulsa and it was now gone. I lived with my grandparents after no more than six months and it was uneventful.
My only other memory of her afterwards was actually caught in pictures. I was living with my grandparents and "Laser Tag" had just come out and I got a set for my birthday. I immediately put on the equipment over my pajamas and called my mom to tell her the good news. She accused me of only calling when I wanted money and during her barrage I broke out crying. It was about this time someone came around the door snapping a picture of me noticing afterwards the streams of tears. I'm not sure if this picture still exists.
I have almost no memories of my real father from early childhood. At nearly 11, I was told that I would have to stay with my mom during the summer because the judge wouldn't like it if I was living at my grandparents. I remember being instructed to tell the judge that "I wanted to live with my mom" because grandma wasn't a valid answer. I remember waiting outside the court room with my grandmother in case the judge wanted to talk with me. Thankfully, that moment never came. It did give me the first clear memory of my biological dad as he was being hauled out of the court in hand cuffs. Prior to this, my only memories of him was during a birthday where he was sitting on a couch as I unwrapped a toy semi-truck and visiting him in a white house that had some fruiting tree outside the window. (I still have that semi-truck which I gave to my son)
Oddly again, my sister spent the previous summer with my mom and I was told the stories from my sister about the wonderful house my mom kept; complete with pictures of her pet bird comically being put outside during the summer to air out. Looking back, I think that this was done on purpose to remove any objection I would have to being there. My mother's previous comments and actions shows she didn't care much for my sister. This is probably because I was the first born male in a family of girls which gave me a special standing with my grandfather. This seemed to be confirmed as I was apparently used as a bargaining chip. Her new home was a trailer and I remember begging my grandparents to come get me during the first storm because of how the trailer swayed in the wind.
The first year at this trailer started the summer before my 5th grade year and wasn't so bad as I often came back to my grandparents for weekends. I spent most of my time outside with a few local kids or down at the ponds fishing. I never ate the fish. Usually I would start with a piece of lunch meat. I would use the fish I caught as bait so I could go all day. (Turtles made the best bait.) This did not last long, as my mom was soon going to bars what seemed every night with her cousin. I was left in the care of the cousin's delinquent older kid who was heavy into skateboarding and smoking. Naturally, I used him as a role model and soon had long hair, smoking, and a skateboard.
I remember he had built a make shift ramp to practice tricks. We would spend late nights during the summer laying out on this ramp smoking cigarettes. Even though I had severe asthma as a child, the cigarettes seemed to help more than hurt. I never really learned to skate well despite having skinned knees many times.
I was by no means a popular kid. I had very few friends. There are only two that I recall. I only mention these two because they are the only ones I really had contact with outside of school. The first lived down the street from my grandparents and we played all the time. When I moved in with my mom, that friendship was lost. The second was a kid I had known since kindergarten and at school we were inseparable. We occasionally played outside of school.
My 5th grade year was probably one of the more difficult years I can remember. I was having trouble adapting with the problems at home and by then I was being bullied by other kids. I remember two kids specifically who gave me the most trouble. One of these kids was extremely fat for his age and the other seemed to be extremely homophobic although at the urinals he was constantly trying to catch a peak of your junk. The fat one constantly hit and pushed me around. The other was mainly verbal until it climaxed into him slamming my head into the walls at school. I never fought back because I was always told I would get in more trouble at home. I had forgotten about most of this until I enrolled my kids at the same school.
I took a lot of this out on my school friend and started to gain a lot of weight. About half way through the school year, I had burned the bridge with my last friend as I had become the bully. Unknown to me at the time, the friend's parents divorced at about the same time and moved away. I was alone and devastated even though I had been a complete jerk.
I started my 6th grade year at a new school in a new town with no friends. We had moved to an apartment complex behind my new school. The school was merely a walk across a large field from the apartment. I spent a lot of time in this field setting off model rockets. I think we only spent a few winter months there.
At this time, my mom was with someone new who used to have dreams of being a professional football player. I suspect he had a lot to do with me being required to play for the school team. Perhaps in an attempt to get new friends and to lose weight. Most of the team had come up together from pee-wee with the coach. I was banished to second string which never got to play, regardless of their skill, unless the first string had been injured. In fact, I only recall being able to play during a game once. My mother never attended my practices and rarely any games. Her boyfriend was there nearly every time I wore the uniform. I was never fully accepted by the other kids which seem only to drive me further into isolation. The benefit was I dropped a lot of weight but still thick.
I believe it was at this time I had met my new best friend in a computer programming class. I think I joined the class because I recalled my confusing experience with computers in Tulsa and was curious to learn more. I didn't really become strong friends with him until later.
We soon moved into the apartment complex ran by the boyfriends parents at the beginning on my 7th grade year. It was a large complex and I did play on occasion with kids that lived there. One was a small thing that always wore shorts no matter what the weather was like. The other was probably your typical nerd who spent more time making model airplanes than playing with friends.
I probably spent most of my time riding my bike around the complex and the neighboring houses. I can even remember some of the horrible bike wrecks I had. One specifically, was down a hill and I clipped a man hole cover with the front tire. I went sliding on my stomach as the bike did a somersault over my head landing a few inches from my nose. With a few new scraps I dusted myself off and I was back on the road.
As a pretend family, we visited almost every state park in Oklahoma. I remember the time at Red Rock canyon and stopping along the road since the adults were tired to continue driving. We had a pop-up camper and it rained all night. I only remember because I spent the night soaked in rain water since the camper was second hand and in poor repair.
I vaguely remember digging for salt crystals in the salt lake and robbers cave. I clearly remember going to Turner falls. I spent most of the time riding down the river on a raft. By the time we came home, I was so terribly sunburned that I had blisters on my back and shoulders. I remember the miserable week afterwards because I was unable to move and kept myself bathed in lotion constantly. Looking back, I probably belonged in a burn unit.
Toward the end of my 7th year, we moved into a house that was closer to my new best friend. It was fairly small but it was nice. The old acquaintances from the apartments disappeared as I only saw them at school. It seems odd that friendship as kids seem dependent on if you could see them outside of school. I had a few other friends but I didn't spend a lot of time with them. I do remember spending a large amount of time with an old TRS-80 entering lines of code. I don't recall many of those programs working.
It was also at this time one of my friends was able to get cigarettes. When I spent time with him it was usually to smoke at the local park. This continued on through the 8th grade year although the former football guy was out of the picture. My mother said she had been bored with him and happen to be at the time she found her marriage wasn't valid because the divorce with her ex was never finalized. This started the major decline of my childhood. The time at this house had been one of the easiest times in my life. Sprinkled with liberal visitation at my grandparents during the summer and weekends. My grandparent's house was always home to me. In addition, they had gotten a new Tandy TL2 that I played on all the time. I spent the majority of my time playing civilization on the computer.
He was replaced by a drug addict who first introduced me to the YMCA's gym. It wasn't long until the drug guy went on another bender and was gone. Soon afterwards, my mom met a new guy and we moved outside of town to his house in the country.
This is really where the dark ages began. . .
