Jet To No Where

Help me find out if I am on a Jet To No where…or just on stand by.

Archive for the category “Dysfunctional Family”

Back in Pennsylvania…

I slumped to the ground in a lifeless pile. The ground was so cold, so muddy. My fingers and hands that were so desperately trying to hold me up were buried in soggy cold, thick, wet dirt. The rain had not stopped all day. It was the type of rain that just kept coming and coming….no end in sight and pouring down. Every time I opened the door to see if  the guys had arrived, the rain was loud and insistent. I could see my breath outside on the back porch. I was wearing a white v-neck t-shirt and a long skirt….no shoes. The kids were inside playing video games and Ted was pacing nervously back and forth on the porch as he tried to put his best it’s-going-to-be-okay face on. It wasn’t working.

We knew something had happened. Something tragic, but we didn’t want to believe anything we read on the Internet. I only checked it twice and saw two news reports. I read only a little and closed them out….the computer was off from then on. I had a horrible sinking feeling of dread. I knew he did something really stupid this time.

I finally heard two bikes coming closer to the house. The sound was so faint, but I heard them. I had been listening for hours for that sound. I wanted to know what happened….the real story…… The bikes grew louder and louder until they finally arrived. It was Tom and Sam. They were wearing their usual jeans with their old worn in leather jackets. Tom had a cigarette hanging from his lips. He always had a cigarette hanging from his lips.

I stood on the porch, cold and barefoot, waiting for someone to say something. Ted was standing on the front steps, waiting just out of ear shot. They walked up to Ted so slowly that it seemed as if an hour had passed. They shook Ted’s hand. I couldn’t hear exactly what they said. I only saw tears and heads shaking.

Sam looked Ted dead in the eye and said, “I’m sorry man….there was nothing anyone could do.”

Ted walked back and forth on the porch while I just watched him. I gestured for Tom and Sam to go in, whispering there was coffee or beer. I still didn’t know exactly what had happened. I was afraid to ask Ted. I didn’t know if he was angry, upset or just completely distraught with grief. I kept looking over to him and he finally looked back at me.

“He was in a bad way”, he simply stated. His eyes were so welled up with tears that never fell. His head was tilted to the side slightly with a look that I ached for him. There was so much pain in his soft voice and crooked glance.

“No one could help him any longer. It just happened…..it had to happen sooner or later.” Ted said with a tremble. “He took a bunch of pills and wrecked his bike.” He went through the open sliding glass doors into the kitchen. I wanted to go and help him, console him….but I knew he wanted to be alone for a while.

On my way down to the mud I couldn’t control myself. I was inconsolable. I cried so hard my chest hurt. The kind of cry you had as a kid when you couldn’t catch your breath. My face down, struggling to catch the breath I could see right in front of me in this wicked rain….my hands grasping the mud, squishing through my fingers. I sat there in the yard getting drenched on the freezing ground. No one would know I was crying unless they heard me….the rain was sliding down my face…mascara running down with it.

I didn’t even like him. He had done so many awful things in the past two years to everyone who had tried to help him get on his feet again. The whole family talked about him taking pills, but no one ever confronted him. Everyone was great at that….talking about what was wrong with someone, expressing so much concern, but never doing a God-damned thing about it and then saying they couldn’t have done anything anyway. No one actually cared enough to sat anything….even myself.  Plausible deniability.

There was a certain look on Ted’s face. You cannot describe it….you only know it if you see it.

Guilt.

Guilt of never confronting him about the rumors of pills, erratic behavior and lies. Ted would never be the same after today. I knew it would be a long time for him to open up and talk about it, but I would wait. He would need me soon enough and I didn’t want to push him. He needed to feel the loss….face the pain….it was his only brother, after all.

Leonard was dead.

The Icy Chards of Truth

Truth Floats Downstream

“Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.”~Winnie the Pooh

I went to his house. I hadn’t been there in four years. He
wasn’t expecting me. My sister came with me, but Ted refused to come in. He
stayed outside, in the cold, biting air with chards of glass floating down the
stream that flowed behind his home. Ted waded in the shivering coldness.

“It will feel even more cold inside of his home.”, Ted said.

She wouldn’t leave the kitchen. He never came when I rang the
doorbell. Peering through the fogged front, Alison had to open the heavy cherry
stained door. He still didn’t come.

I waited……and waited for which seemed like days, but only
seconds. He never wore shoes when he was at home. In a soft, cottony button
down shirt and khaki pants with dark blue socks…just as I had always
remembered, he strolled into the living room. 
He wasn’t excited to see me. He looked nervous, yet angry.

“What do you want now, Alex?”, he simply stated. 

“Why….. do I have to always want something to
visit?”, defensively I remarked. 

“You always have before…”…..And his words
seemed to trail off, but they weren’t his words. He would never say that to me.
He would have been so excited and melancholy if we had met in a parking lot,
but not at his home with her there. I could hear the dishes being thrown into
the dishwasher, but never enough to be broken. Everything was fine china, you
see. I could picture the dishes being broken in slow motion, like in the movie Titanic when the ship was sinking.

Only the best.

And I screamed over and over., “Why don’t you care if we
talk?”….”Why don’t you call your grandchildren? I have been lying
about you for years, saying you have been out of town, working, busy…anything
I could think of when Jakob asked. I have been trying to paint you and her in a
good light, but Jakob is not a little boy anymore. He’s smart and he knows.
What am I supposed to tell him?”

My screams turned to tears of anger and grief as I made my
way into the kitchen. He didn’t answer me and didn’t stop me from going.

“You callous, greedy bitch!”, I growled at her.
“You have no heart! Why am I protecting you? Why have I been lying for
you….YOU of all people? You were his grandmother for seven years and then….nothing! I told Jakob
the truth. I told him you were mad at me and I was sorry that he was caught in
the middle.” 

My tears stopped dead.

“I told him you were a cold, hard bitch who only thinks
of herself.” He knows what you are now. I have stopped trying to protect
him from the inevitable truth.”, I spewed toward her. She continued to
load the dishwasher ever so slowly….”He knows now…he knows….”, I softly trailed off as if in a Xanax induced daze.

My sister was dragging me away….”Stop Alex. They will
never change. It’s not worth it….it’s just not worth it….it just won’t matter”

“WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?!?”, I
screamed at her, so loud my voice scratched the inside of my throat.

“WOULD YOU STAY IF HE SUDDENLY LOST
EVERYTHING?”……”WOULD YOU STILL LOVE HIM IF HE WERE BROKE?”…..”ANSWER
ME!”…”ANSWER ME, YOU MANIPULATIVE CUNT!”, I spat at her….the
words falling on deaf ears….she never looked at me and never became angry.
She did as she always had.

She started to cry….the crocidile tears she had always shown for my father….  for my father to see yet again that I was the crazy one.

“You need to leave now, Alex.”, he said to me in a
monotone voice. “This is not the time.”

“When will be a good time for you,
dad?”….”Is there ever going to be a good time?”….I said to
him as I was leaving the cherry stained door for what I knew would be the last
time. 

My sister lead me out by my hand, yet holding me up. I said
everything I wanted to say. I didn’t want to, but I had to. If he would have
just been happy to see me. If he would have just, for once in his pathetic
marriage, stood up to her….but that day will never come.

We found Ted behind the house, lying in the cold water with
crystal clear ice surrounding him, sleeping. I was yelling, “What are you
doing?!?”….”You are going to freeze to death.” 

He stood up, dripping with icicles and asked, “How did everything go?” He was joyfully
optimistic. 

“As expected.” I robotically said….”As
expected.”

“Realization is one of the most difficult acheivements” ~ Erich Fromme

by Alex Senape Vader on Monday, November 8, 2010 at 1:42pm

Is sad that is took me so long to realize that my body does not function like everyone else. Th common cold puts me in bed for a week. Stress makes me vomit and the flu puts me in the hospital. If I make a promise, I keep it, but if it comes at a price of my health, I cannot. I look and feel (most of the time) normal, but I am not. I will need a heart transplant one day and until that day I am cannot pretend I a Superwoman, Super-wife, Supermom or Super-friend any longer. I don’t like this realization, but I have to accept it. I wish others could accept it and I understand that it is not that I do not want to do something that I promised, it is that I CANNOT do it.

I try my best to stay true to my word, but I am no good to anyone, especially my children, if I am too sick to do anything. I have to start putting myself first and I will not apologize for that. I wish the people who say they love me and are family here would understand all of this, but unless someone has had a life changing health issue, no one could possibly understand. No one will ever truly know what Ted has been through or what I have been through with our health.

It saddens me….it hurts me…I do not want to hurt anyone, but I cannot be what I thought I could any longer. I cannot do it all…I wish I could. It is entirely 100% true….if you don’t have your health, you have nothing. I do have Ted and my children who truly understand all of this…. because we have been through it all together.

I always thought that admitting ones weaknesses was admitting one was fragile or not strong.  It is not. It is human.

I now realize that I am weak to a certain extent. I cry as I write this, but it is because I feel sad for the promises I cannot keep….but it saddens me even more deeply that people called family cannot understand this. I needed only to explain this one person, and I hope she understands. I thought she did….and I hope she can understand.

 Now, I have to take care of myself….I have to do this for my family, my children most of all.  I have to remove myself from all things that have an impact on my health.

 Anyone who truly loves and cares for me will understand without a word.

 Others who cannot or will not understand…..then I know I made the right choice.

“To preserve health is a moral and religious duty, for health is the basis of all social virtues. We can no longer be useful when we are not well.” ~ Samuel Johnson quotes (English Poet, Critic and Writer. 1709-1784)

 “Before healing others, heal yourself” ~Indira Gandhi

The Grudge

  “To carry a grudge is like being stung to death by one bee.”

~~~William H. Walton
http://www.motivational-inspirational-corner.com/powerup2.html?id=674&startrow=2

Some of us carry around a pretty big chip on our shoulders. For one reason or perhaps any of a number of reasons we feel like we’ve been wronged or shortchanged in life. Instead of getting over the negative feelings we harbor and getting on with our lives, we hold a grudge; a great big nasty grudge. And this bitterness weighs heavily on everything we say, think and do.

 

When we hold a grudge, virtually everything we do is burdened with this huge, heavy, troublesome chip. Instead of feeling upbeat and optimistic, we tend to feel angry and upset. Rather than look for the good that surrounds us daily, we focus on the wrongs we have suffered. With our outlook and attitude laced with rancor and resentment, is it any wonder there’s not a hint of contentment and peace to be found?

 

“I’ve had a few arguments with people, but I never carry a grudge. You know why? While you’re carrying a grudge, they’re out dancing.”

 ~~~Buddy Hackett

 

Whenever we feel beaten, battered and badly treated, it’s easy to get bitter, to get down on life. Maybe we have been cheated, maybe even mistreated by others; sometimes by people we hardly know, sometimes by those we hold close. How we handle these moments, whether we control our emotions or allow them to control us, determine where we go and what we ultimately accomplish. We can remain bitter and allow our negative feelings to swirl all around us – or we can choose to get over them and get on down the road.

 

Staying mad and upset after you have been wronged never accomplishes anything but keep you mad and upset. There is just too much to love about life, too much to embrace about living to remain angry or distressed for very long. Besides, the only person who gets hurt when you hold a grudge is you. That’s right; you’re the one you’re hurting, the one you’re punishing when you hold these feelings of ill-will towards others.

 

 

“Resentment or grudges do no harm to the person against whom you hold these feelings but every day and every night of your life, they are eating at you.”

~~~Norman Vincent Peale

 We’ve all had bad things happen in our lives. Not some of us, but every single one of us have experienced some tough times. All of us have rode out some rough situations. We have encountered all sorts of trying moments and difficult circumstances that have tested our tenacity and resolve. And yes, we have been wronged on occasion.

 But come on now, do two wrongs ever make a right? Does staying all riled up get you any closer to realizing your dreams or achieving your goals? Does lugging around a chip for who knows how long make your life more pleasant or enjoyable?

 

 

“A chip on the shoulder is too heavy a piece of baggage to carry through life.”

~~~John Hancock

When it comes to holding grudges, please don’t. Holding tight to bad feelings only holds you back. You’ve got to let go of these negative feelings, casting them aside before they eat you alive.

 If you think someone has treated you poorly, shake it off.
If you believe somebody has done you wrong, forget about it.
If you feel someone has slighted or mistreated you, let it go.
If you sense someone has taken advantage of you, don’t let it get you down.

 There is nothing to be gained by holding on to bad feelings about others. Or what you believe others have done to you for that matter. Rather than waste one more minute living and reliving unpleasant moments, why not toss aside each and every grudge you hold and start anew?

 Hey, your life can be as good as you want it to be. However, if you refuse to turn loose of things that bring you down, it won’t be. So get with the program and quit carrying that chip around with you. Get rid of it.

 You will feel a whole lot lighter – and a whole lot better.

The Bottom Line: The heaviest thing in the world is that chip on your shoulder.

I wish I could take credit for these words of wisdom, sadly I cannot. They are attributed to the above link.

I never could understand why people feel the need to harp on the past….carry a grudge for something that has long since past. I guess the person holding the grudge has their reasons…some valid, some not, but what does it serve? I only write and repost this piece because there are people holding a grudge against me as I write. I have done all I can. I cannot apologize any more or try to have yet another discussion about the issue at hand. I used to be simply waiting…now I am just moving on. It hurts. I wish it were different, but I cannot change it anymore than I can go back in time an undo any wrong doing that I may have done.

I just wonder…that when faced with death or illness…what will they say to themselves? Was it worth it to them…all these wasted years? I was very unhappy for a very long time. Now I am so very happy with my life and I want the same for the people who I am at odds with…no matter what happens.

I hope it is all worth it for them. If my being erased from their lives is what they all truly want or need to be happy, then I want that for them.  Otherwise…It was all for nothing.

The Reality of It All….

It finally happened. I saw them both. We were all in the store. It was just a coincidence, happenstance….or are there no coincidences? I followed them around the store while my father longingly looked back as his unsympathetic wife walked faster and faster. It was as if he were trying to stop, but couldn’t. I could tell by the look on his face. It was ….”I’m sorry”….”I love you”…..”I have no choice.” She was cruel but her crocodile tears were starting. They always came….she was a professional. She could have won an Oscar so many times over the past 30 or so years…it was a true hidden talent….but I knew that’s all it was…a talent, acting…not real tears. Maybe this time she was genuinely scared. Scared of my wrath, as the anger was growing on my face. Scared of my letting the truth out, calling her out on her lies and manipulations. But I saw the slight grin surface a few times around each corner. She knew what she was doing and didn’t care. What made me sad…more than anything was that my father was going along with it all. Dodging me, pretending to ignore every time I yelled to him…asking him….”Please, please stop!…I need to talk to you! I have to talk to you!” I started to cry….the kind of cry that is almost inconsolable. Sobbing, my chest heaving with every breath and step I took.

It was as if I were in slow motion. I was trying to catch up so desperately, but there were people everywhere. The store was so busy and flooded with potential consumers that just seemed determined to block my every move. I finally caught up to them. I didn’t say a word at first. I just stared at my father for a minute that seemed like a lifetime. The type of stare that buckles your knees and says everything without uttering a word. I was puzzled, dumbfounded, hurt, shocked, visibly upset…but only slightly angry. My chest hurt so badly. I was squeezing as if I were in a vice. It seemed impossible to speak, but I finally could.

“Why are you doing this.”, I sobbed to him. “I just don’t understand. Just what am I supposed to say to Jakob”. I started to yell. “He is only eight years old…a little boy…he doesn’t know what he did “wrong”.” I was now spewing at him.

He had no defense. He knew he was wrong. He had hardly spoke to me in the last year and a half and had called Jake about ten times. His wife, who Jake had called Mom-Mom at one time, had not spoken to him in over two years. No phone calls, letters, holiday or birthday gifts that she picked out. He only received what my father picked out and signed her name to the card.

“Jake has done nothing!”, I screamed. “He is so innocent and good-hearted. He is kind and wants to know why “Mom-Mom” doesn’t care about him any more. He wants to know why everyone he has known for the past seven years has disappeared out of his life. He wants to know what he did “wrong.” I finally screamed at both of them.

She was “crying”…. A meek, simple sob that would absolutely be figured out by the majority of strangers and most family members. I knew it so well. My father was always reeled in., but he was different this time. He seemed to know that she was the reason, but he had no choice. He kept stumbling over every word. He couldn’t complete a sentence. He was crying now too. I have seen my father cry a few times, but not like this. He was truly sorry, empathic….with a look on his face that said everything. He was helpless. He was a pussy.

“We can’t trust you. We never could. You have always caused problems for your father and I will not see him hurt any longer. I am done with all of your bullshit for all of these years.”, she spit at me. Her eyes were dark with nothing behind them. I had heard this speech so many times before. It was ridiculous. I could not have possible been that bad for thirty years.

“What does that have to do with my son!” I screamed into her face. I was up close to her, intimidating and angry. I always knew deep down she was scared of me. Scared that eventually my father would finally listen to me. That he would would hear how she treated my sisters and I over the years. I was never afraid of her. I never backed down from a fight with her. I called her out on every evil, manipulative move she made. She had said to me so many times over the years….”I will deny everything I say to you, so don’t bother saying anything to anyone because they will never believe you.” She was right….they never did.

I was pleading with my dad…..”Daddy, please…why are you doing this to Jake?….I don’t want you to hate me, but it doesn’t matter if it means you’ll stop what you are doing to him. Jake is so sad some days. I don’t know what to say. I am sick of lying….telling him that you and her are so busy…that you work so much, even though you are supposed to be retired. I am tired of having my son think your wife is a good person when she absolutely is not!”

“I don’t understand.” I said as more and more tears were streamed down my face. All three of us were unaware of anyone else in the store. The people all seemed to go about their business in slow motion. They were all a blurry haze of everyday life passing me by. My father didn’t seem to care either. Normally he would avoid any public display of this sort. His wife kept looking around…as if anyone really could give a shit. They had lives to lead, bills to pay, grocery lists to fill. She was always putting up a front. No, no…nothing is wrong in my life…I have the perfect life…a huge home, a rich husband…and I was able to turn him against his three daughters…it was so easy.

What kind of man lets that happen? What kind of woman lets a man choose her over his children?….But we are talking about her. She hates kids. She hated us as kids. Now as adults, she saw no reason to find any possible imperfection or nuisance to make my father’s life so miserable that he was willing to ignore his daughters. At that very moment… I didn’t care what he was doing to me. I was protecting my son. I was standing up for my child who loved unconditionally and didn’t understand what he could have done that was so awful that his own grandfather hardly spoke to him…..that his so-called Mom-Mom hadn’t talked to him in over two years and hadn’t step foot into our home in over three years in Pennsylvania before we moved to Florida.

My father just kept sputtering…trying to catch the right words. There was an obvious look of  “I am so sorry for all I have put you through over these years. I wish I could change it all. I wish I had a relationship with you”. It was everything I ever wanted to hear, but it wasn’t why I was so angry….Jake…why would he torture a poor little boy that he used to take almost very weekend to fly in one of his planes. Jake loved it so much. He would tell everyone he could…”My Pap-Pap is a pilot. He has his own planes and lets me fly them all the time. I know how to fly a plane.” He was so proud…so sincere….it broke my heart.

It ended almost as quickly as it started. We were being pulled apart by her. My arm was out stretched….with so much pain on my face. He had the same look of pain. He kept asking me, “Do you need anything? Does Jake need anything? I’ll give you whatever you need! If you need any help. please let me know!”

I yelled… “No. …I don’t need or want that kind of help! I don’t need your money….I need for you to be a grandfather to my son! Don’t do to him what you did to me! He doesn’t deserve it! He did nothing wrong!”. Tears were flowing so much that I could see any longer. She was pulling him father away. I was screaming at him.

“Call Jakob!..Call your grandson! He doesn’t understand! He just a little boy you bastard!” It was my final good-bye as she whisked him far out of my reach. I was sobbing so heavily. I didn’t answer the people…strangers asking me if I were all right. My mind was boggled and nothing was resolved….as always.  I had a glimmer of hope that everything was going to go back like it used to be… but  it was gone as quickly as it came.

The sobs kept coming. I couldn’t control it…I was inconsolable. I hurt so badly for my child…..Jake loved him and her so very much…..I had never felt such pain and controllable grief…it was a loss greater than any death I had ever experienced….because it was a chosen loss…. by my father.

I woke up grasping my chest, tears streaming down my already soaked face. I was crying during the whole dream. I still could not control it. Jake was sleeping next to me. I hugged him so hard, but not enough to wake him. I love him so much…..everyone always tells people that you will never know such a love until you have children….I never believed it until I had Jake. I would die and kill for him. Everything was so fresh and real. I was there. My dad was there. She was there. It really happened….it couldn’t end like this? Why was it all a dream!!! Why was my son going to still question himself and what he did wrong to have this all happen to him.  I was still crying, but starting to become angry.

I got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face off and brushed my teeth. The clock said 1:46 AM. I cried the whole time.

It’s 2:58 AM now. I am done with the dream, but I am still sobbing uncontrollably. I had to wipe my eyes so many times just to see the screen. My chest doesn’t hurt any longer. I am starting to calm down. Jakob had a sleep over with his cousin, Skylar. She keeps waking up and moving around, but I think she is still sleeping. The computer is right next to where she is sleeping. I am going to check on her.

I just can’t believe it is over. It was so real. It still seems within my grasp….like maybe when I fall back asleep I could pick up where I left off…but that never happens in my dreams no matter how hard I try.

I guess no matter how much I say that I am OK, I am still not over all the hurt from my father. Maybe I will call a therapist in the morning.

Devil May Care….

I despise all of the social websites being used as a platform for airing out ones feelings when they don’t have the balls to confront the someone in person or by phone.

Since my last blog, my family drama has increased. It seems a certain someone did not like what I had to say and proceeded to post her attitude all over Facebook.  This act also allows one to drift completely off topic into issues that were not even an issue to begin with. So, if my family member wants to use the web as her platform instead of talking like an adult….I see no reason why she shouldn’t get what she wants. Who am I to deny her that right…..

Her reply in reference to my last post concerning a truly stupid issue:

“I dont owe you knowthing! I just qoited what my brother stated to me that early morning!  Oh and you call  the land lady right back afiter i called you  was mature !  Amy was standing right next to me! Its is all good we took care of it !I am over it! Oh and I am truly glade you had time to check on your niece though ! I am greatful my brother did ! He made time for her while no one other than my mother and eddie and teddie and justins family !Oh and from what I hurd for other sorces you brought  a little of it on your self with the house and not all that you say was true ! I dont care if you dont like were you lived !From what I see it seemds like you never wanted to be there in the first place! Let alone in florida ! From the whole time you lived there you not onece came over just to visit us only when you need something or if it was a birthday or hoilday! So yes I see its all about alex! I dont care ! I am me and we help you guys out when need and only greatfulness was my brother!”

Which was promptly followed up with this:

“Alex I truly hope your happy maybe you will stop bitching so much and finally be happy! That what was truly on my mind begreatful for what you have and not what you dont have!!!!!!!!!! Have a god day! I am done with this topic and drama! ;0) Please kiss the kids for me!”

Spelling and grammar not corrected…that’s exactly what I was supposed to decipher…..and that is a lot of exclamation points. Do you think she wanted to emphasize something?

Men would never dream of doing something like this. They hash it out quickly and it’s over. Women, on the other hand, have the wonderful tendency to drag their bones of contention on for days, weeks, months and use emails, letters, social networking sites and the web as tools for their annoyances. I am just as guilty, just not as angry.

My question is this: Why do we, as women, let tiny words on a web page get to us so badly? They are just typed words, right? Or is it that we don’t like everyone else we know on that social networking site to know our dirty laundry? Why does one simple sentence require a litany of words just spitting back at you to make a point? It all seems awfully desperate and angry, yet not enough to have a real conversation.

I, myself, could care less who knows what about me, as long as it’s the whole story and the complete truth. Others just like to throw out whatever they have just to try and hit a nerve. Whatever the reasoning one has for not sucking it up, acting like an adult and picking up the phone instead of hiding behind a computer…I’ll never know.

I haven’t had much inspiration lately for writing, but I have also been moving and under a lot of stress….or maybe I just needed a little aggravation?

I am right here, Angie, when you want to apologize for all of the lies and nasty things you have posted about me. You had the floor and now you need to act like an adult.

But, like you said, “I dont owe you knowthing!”.

Stranger Than Fiction

My family and I just moved. We moved from a private duplex that came with an assortment of all kinds of problems (SEE POST “If Momma Ain’t Happy….Ain’t Nobody Happy”) to an absolutely wonderful apartment complex. The place is HUGE! My oldest son, Jake, loves his new room and the fact that he has his own bathroom. There’s a pool, tennis courts, workout room (not that I will be using it or anything), car care center….everything I could ever want. And it’s cheaper than the old duplex.

If you read my previous blog mentioned above, you know why I couldn’t stand it there any longer. While I was moving, many people came up to me asking about the place, as there was a “For Rent” sign in front of it. I told them the truth. There were pros and cons.

No credit check….great for everyone hit hard by this economy. No background check…great for all you criminals out there….not so great for the law abiding part of society. Low deposit…pro. Cheap place that is large…pro. Landlord lives out of state….pro and con. First $200 of repairs is tenant’s responsibility….con. Late fees were astronomical…con. Landlord was understanding at times of financial hardship…pro.

I could list much, much more, but it’s none of these factors trump the neighbors. The people and their children that live in these duplexes are crazy….and I mean calling the police, guns being shot off, domestic violence, stealing my cable and the alcoholic that thought that my duplex was his one night and passed out on my front lawn crazy. You just can’t make this shit up.

So, my sister-in-law decided to “help” a friend of hers by recommending that she take the place, as she and her children have to leave her abusive husband. I tried to explain to my sister-in-law that this was no place for children. I had always told her all of the bullshit that happened at this place, but she just explained that she never really heard of anything bad happening over “here”. WTF? Did she not hear me? Was I speaking a foreign language? If she was such a wonderful friend, why not offer her to stay in her five bedroom three bath house? Sure, my sister-in-law is married with five kids, but who wouldn’t do that for a woman being abused and threatened by their husband?

A few nights ago I received a call from my sister-in-law (let’s call her Angie for now). She was very angry that her friend called to see our old place and the crazy bitch that lives in one of the duplexes (she shows the places for the landlord) said that the landlord didn’t want to rent to anyone that knew my husband and I because we never paid the rent on time and owed over two months rent. Yea. Not true…we were only breaking the lease.

I have never even met this woman who needed a place so badly. Ted, my husband, told Angie not to let her friend use us as a reference, as we were breaking the lease, for the obvious reasons. So, Angie said this to me on the phone: “Now Teddy fucked it up for my friend.” Oh no. She did not just say that. I said what I needed to say about her comment about my husband and that was it. Ted immediately called her and said the same. Done.

The friend got the place. She started moving in yesterday. If Angie was a true friend, she would have told her about all of the bullshit that goes on. But no….instead I see this on Facebook:

“…Is very happy that i could help a friend and her girls out of a life threating situation! They are blessed for the new home they have and they reminded me and all the others how greatful it is to have a roof over your head and away from danger ! I am so truly happy that those girls are safe and happy now! God bless to them and mt god help you in your future journeys! Love Lots”

AND….”Is loving life and we are truly happy and greatful for what we have! we are also very blessed and greatful for what we have and dont take it for granet for what we dont have ! If its not the greatest place to live -be greatful you have roof over your head! If you dont like the food on your table be greatful you have food!”

Great. I copied and pasted both of these paragraphs, so that is exactly her grammar and hers alone. It just really pissed me off. Maybe I am reading too much into it. Maybe I am using Facebook like MySpace…a childish game directed at individual people who want to say things to but just don’t have the balls to say it to their face.

Maybe it’s exactly what I think. Angie is a self-righteous hypocrite who doesn’t care what she says to anyone and her pride is much more important than any family member or friendship. I wrote back to her requesting an apology for her remark about Ted to me and him….I doubt I’ll get one.

My question is this…..Why do adults feel the need to act like children these days? Is it because they feel age creeping up upon them and want so desperately to be young again? Do they want to be “cool ” for their kids?

This may seem like a small family squabble, but it is the culmination of so many remarks by Angie that has reached it’s breaking point.

Or maybe I have reached my breaking point.

If Momma Ain’t Happy….Ain’t Nobody Happy!

My family and I have been living in a duplex for close to a year now. It wasn’t perfect when we first saw it, but it was big, had a good school nearby, was reasonably priced and easy to move in. No, it wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t prepared for what was to follow after moving in.

First of all, I was away when our move in date came, so my husband moved in and took pictures of all the previous damage left behind. The amount of dead roaches was innumerable. They were in kitchen draws, on floors, under the stove and refrigerator…anywhere you could think of. Of course, there was no walk through, so pictures had to suffice. He cleaned like crazy. Grease from floor to ceiling in the kitchen…it was disgusting. But, honestly, I had lived in worse places in college. But I have kids now, so we were determined to make this place as presentable as possible.

 I can handle roaches, broken faucets and peeling tiles. We sprayed and hired an exterminator. My husband can fix or build anything, so small repairs were not an issue. We installed a couple of new ceiling fans, repaired door jams that were broken upon move in. I painted a room or two. It was mostly tile, so a few throw rugs here and there were fine. The bedrooms carpets left a lot to be desired. Even though I was informed they were professionally cleaned, the stains were clearly visible and the smell was distinct….pet urine. We scrubbed them to no avail. The peel and stick tiles throughout the living room were peeling up and breaking apart. They were stained and black….a magic eraser couldn’t even get the shit off.

But, you get what you pay for.

All of the cosmetic problems aside….I had no idea what we were getting into with the neighbors. There are four duplexes for a total of eight units. All of them were rented when we moved in. Jake is eight and there were plenty of kids his age here to play with. Big mistake. These kids were rotten….and I mean future orange jumpsuit wearing rotten. Jake is the first one to tell me if some kid acting like an ass. After a few incidents of bulling, other kids smoking and swearing and the usual bullshit, I decided that these were not the calibre of children I was comfortable letting my son play with. One kid used to come over everyday….even school nights…and stay all day, eat dinner and my husband ended up walking him home at 9:00 PM. I never even met his parents and they never came looking for him. I felt bad for him. Until the day he shot Jake and another kid with a BB gun. Then I called the police.

There were multiple calls to the police. These kids were always left unsupervised. No parent was ever around to keep tabs, make sure they were safe, or make sure they were fed for that matter. I was the only parent outside yelling at all these kids when they were all acting like assholes. I quickly became know as “the bitch”. I told a fifth grader who had been bulling Jake that the day I moved in was the worst day of his life. He didn’t answer. All the kids that Jake used to play with now wanted to beat him up. But, here’s where they underestimated Jake. He has had close to six years of karate. The kids were fair at first. Jake would come in and tell me that so-and-so tried to hit him and he punched them in the face and gave them a roundhouse kick. I have always told Jake not to be a bully and stick up for smaller kids….don’t hit other kids, but defend yourself if you need to. Well, he did.

Soon, he had beat every kid in this wretched neighborhood, no matter what size they were. That’s when they decided to gang up on him. They couldn’t beat him one on one, so they resorted to fighting dirty. I watched out of the window everyday when he played with one of the two good kids in the neighborhood (they were not allowed to play with the Manson Children either). Jake was great…never afraid….I stepped in lots of times. I saw the fifth grader pouring gasoline into a soda can one day. I took a picture with my phone….I am all about getting the evidence. Ted, my husband, went to tell his mother, as no matter how bad a kid is, it is always because of an underlying problem in the home and really not completely their fault. The mother quickly called her son on his cell and he denied it, so she said…”he said he wasn’t doing it.” Ok. Ted just said that when he ends up in the hospital with second and third degree burns that he had warned her. Thankfully, he never did do anything stupid.

They wrote “Fuck your mother” on my sidewalk outside my door. They told every chance they could that I was mean and a bitch. Jake just told them to shut up unless they were in his face…then he punched them. It took months, but these rotten kids finally realized that I was not going to stop watching their actions and that Jake was not a kid to fuck with….so they finally stopped.

That’s when the new neighbors moved in. Two domestic calls to the police later…not even by me…and I told Ted I had enough. We are preparing to move as I type.

Here’s what makes me so angry: These kids have no one to look up to. The parents are not around. If they are, most are usually drunk or just inside the house not giving a shit what their kids are doing. I have always believed that everything begins in the home. So, it was inevitable that these kids are the way they are. If you do not teach your kids values and morals early…this is what you get. I see a future of saddness and prison for most of them. I don’t care what they think of me…or the parents for that matter, but throughout all of this nonesense, I did try to talk to some of them and tell them to be kind and to be friends with everyone. It was to no avail, but I felt obligated to do something that they were not getting from their parents.

Once, Ted went outside and played football with all of these kids. They were happy, friendly, nice….not the little pricks that picked on my son. They were getting what they craved so desparately….attention.

It is amazing what happens when parents just pay attention to their children.

Why am I surprised?

I have had many friends…more like acquaintances…come and go throughout the years. All due to life’s circumstances, be it a job change, moving, leaving college…whatever. But there are a lot of people, come to find out, that have family members come and go throughout their lives. And I am talking about the same ones every couple of years.

As I have written before, my family issues are no secret. I don’t get embarrassed by much, as long as it’s the truth. And one person’s version of the truth is not always the same as the other person’s…but that’s not what I am writing about.

I looked for a couple of friends from about ten years ago on Facebook a few days ago. I found them and sent a message, which was returned immediately. A chat started on line, then emails were exchanged and the next thing I knew….we were on the phone like no time had ever passed between us. Our parting ten years ago was not pretty, but that was ten years ago and I figure, who gives a shit anymore….so now we’re talking about getting together on the weekend. We never even mentioned why we didn’t speak for so long…it was just two people catching up.

Normal enough.

This morning I was writing my daily quotes on various websites and found myself on Facebook at the same time a family member was. This is an individual that I had talked to everyday, multiple times a day for over seven years. Now, we have spoken about four or so times in the last year and a half. No chat was initiated by either of us. I have tried in the past by email and phone to communicate, but it is obvious that some of my family are still not willing to meet me half way…or any way for that matter. So, I have done what I can. I am not going to beat a dead horse.

So, how is it that two people that were so close and related by blood for the rest of their lives just not speak? I didn’t kill anyone. I have apologized multiple times to many people…many of which didn’t even require or deserve an apology, as they were not involved in the matter. I made huge mistakes, but how long am I going to be held in contempt for them? How could someone just flat out ignore someone they claimed to have loved and still do?

Is pride such an important issue?

Sometimes we have to just let go of things and leave our pride to the wayside. In the grand scheme of things…..I wonder how it will go down?

Maybe this is an example of one of my family members waiting to get into the pearly gates:

God: “I know all that has happened between you and Alex. What is the reason for never forgiving or speaking to her?”

Family Member: “She has made so many mistakes. I just couldn’t be around her any longer. ”

God: “So, was it worth it?”

Family Member: “Yea, God, I am sooo glad I never spoke to her again. “Do I need a ticket or something to get in?”

Ummm….yea…it’s sounds really stupid when it’s laid out there like that doesn’t it? I guess this is what my father will be saying on his deathbed….

“Man, I am sooo glad I stopped talking to my daughter and grandchildren. It fills my heart with such joy that I took my wife’s advice and wrote her off. I have never felt better.”

That’s pride….one of the seven deadly sins.

http://www.deadlysins.com/sins/

Another Blog worth reading:

http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://wwwestlake.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/lg-7deadlysins1.jpg&imgrefurl=http://wwwestlake.wordpress.com/2009/02/13/seven-deadly-sins-me-and-my-shadow/&usg=__i2iqysCsfhlyefKmtFq8LvIr6rU=&h=382&w=560&sz=70&hl=en&start=17&sig2=_n9zwb1tc2q_3M8afbbRHw&um=1&tbnid=KY98YeZTmFYq6M:&tbnh=91&tbnw=133&prev=/images%3Fq%3D7%2Bdeadly%2Bsins%26hl%3Den%26rlz%3D1T4ADBF_enUS318US319%26sa%3DN%26um%3D1&ei=XGUdSqKNENGgmAeax8mBDQ

Potentially Explosive

I write everyday. On line, in journals, on napkins…anywhere I can. It has always come so easily, naturally…effortlessly. I have never been someone who was at a loss for words. I have always been the one with the quick comeback, funny joke….cute little quip. Right now…..I’ve got nothing.

I have so much to write about. My mind is full of so many things that need to get out that I am just overloaded. It’s not writer’s block…it’s  anti-writer’s block. I don’t know where to start. I don’t even want to start most days. It’s like I know my mind is going faster than my fingers can type or write. I know it will be a nightmare to try writing, so I don’t even start. My head literally hurts. I know it can be potentially explosive.

But, I have been sick for a couple of days, so I have had time to think, sleep, puke and relax.

I have written about my family in past blogs….about their choices and mine…how I now know where I stand (or fall for that matter).  After two weeks of unanswered phone calls, I finally got in touch with my grandmother on her cell phone at “the home”. She sounded so defeated, broken….just not the woman I knew before. I know she is going to 89, but ones life circumstances changes a person…and I don’t believe that she is happy…no matter what I am told.

Anyway, she said my father was having some tests for his heart….that he “wasn’t feeling well again”….her words. Last year he had the same issues and was tested for heart problems. He claimed to be fine, but I don’t think he would really tell me if he were not. So, I wrote him an email asking if he was OK. I can’t call him, as he is only allowed to speak freely when alone…without the presence of his wife. I am waiting to hear back from him.

This is what bothers me. No matter how my family feels about me, why am I not privy to any information on anyone’s health or well being? I sometimes think that some one will be dead and buried before I am informed, just because of the grudges that are being held. It has been over 18 months and no one has budged. I can’t imagine how this is still happening, as it took my mother’s death to bring my family back together at one point almost nine years ago. I can say all day long that I have to move on, let it go….they have seemingly got on with their lives, what is holding me back?

It hurts. It is a completely devestating feeling to have so many individuals in your life…and your child’s life….for almost a decade and then…..gone. It is like a death….there is mourning, anger, regret….all of the same feelings as a death. So, I guess I am to assume that when any one of the members of my family are to pass during this silent treatment, that I have no more emotion to feel?

Have I done it all already?

Everyone’s family is dysfunctional in one way or another. No one has the perfect set up. But when dysfunction turns into total alienation it is a completely different feeling.

I sent an email to the most important members of my family last Friday. I told them I loved and missed them.  I said I wanted to say it while I still could…while there was still time…before it was too late. I said I didn’t expect anything…I just wanted them to know.

I received no response from two of them, one sent an Obama joke and the other a TMZ video.

This brings dysfunction to a whole new level.

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