Beautiful Family

I woke up to the familiar voice of my dad, I quickly grabbed my phone to check the time. It was currently two in the morning, I blinked away the lingering sleep left in my eyes, threw the covers off and began walking down the stairs. As I neared the bottom step I overheard my father speaking with my Aunt.

"Yeah....we're getting a divorce." My Dad said before I appeared around the corner.

He and my Aunt glanced up at me, I saw the concern in their eyes. I just wanted to know where my mom was, she was gone for a month. Shouldn't she be here with my dad?

"Where's mom?" I asked.

My dad shook his head. I looked to my Aunt to find her eyes filled with sympathy and concern.

"She's not here, she stayed behind." My Dad spoke, breaking the aching silence.

"Why?" I spoke, looking to my dad for an answer.

He hesitated before giving me my answer. You know how that saying goes, 'Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to'? Yeah well, a part of me wishes I hadn't asked that question.

"Because we're getting divorced."

I felt my stomach drop to my knees, so many questions flew threw my head. 'Why? Why are they getting divorced? Sure they'd been fighting but they would've worked it out right? They'd been together for my whole life, they were perfect so why?' As if my dad had read my mind, he walked to my side, placing his arm around my shoulder to comfort me.

My dad was never a man of emotions, but I knew what he was saying, I knew he meant that he was sorry, that he wishes he could take my pain away. My father had told me to go back to bed, because we were going to see her the next day. I of course listened, but I couldn't get a sliver of sleep that night. I don't remember much of that night, it's like my mind was wiped clean. The next thing I knew I was getting into the car with my sister and my father.

I sat in the passenger seat and the drive was going to be around one to two hours. On our way to the destination, my dad had filled in some details.

"Your mother....she's not the same anymore. You won't be able to recognize her..." My Dad spoke to us cautiously.

I looked over to my sister before turning back to my father. He grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly. I squeezed back before looking up at him.

I'll never forget the image I saw. My father, a man who never cried, never showed any sign of sadness, was crying. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. My dad never cried. Never. I wanted to comfort him, but how? I just sat there, holding his hand as he went on to explain.

"Your mother has gotten into...drugs. She's currently with...another man."

I was shocked. My mom would’ve never dabbled with that sort of stuff. Sure she drank her wine on a daily basis but she didn't even smoke pot. He then explained the drugs, she was on crack, and heroine. I didn't believe him. I couldn't. How could my mom do this? She wouldn't, right?

The rest of the drive was a blur, until we saw her at our old childhood house. She was wearing her usual black pleather jacket, but this woman did not look like the woman who raised me for the past 15 years. She did not look like my mom, she looked entirely different. Her cheeks were sunken in, her bones were very prominent. Her skin sagged a lot, her hair was greasy. Hugging her felt like a frail woman in my arms. Like one tiny squeeze and I could break her. She had nothing except skin covering her bones.

My mother was never a 'small' woman. She was always on the thicker side which didn't matter but now, she had nothing. No fat, no muscle. She looked like she aged 50 years. I wanted to cry the moment I saw her. But I held it in, because I had hope that maybe, just maybe there was still a small piece of my mom left. How naive. My dad drove us to Walmart to pick up some snacks. But on the way there....I'll never forget.

We fought and screamed. All of us. I hated it. I hate remembering it. But I can't stop. It hurts every time I remember. Because that was the moment that broke any hope. This woman was not my mom. She was not the woman who raised me, who was silly and kind. Loving and caring. Strong but emotional. It was as if she were possessed.

That night....we were supposed to eat dinner together in her camper, but instead she left us. My sister and I. She was gone for hours. Our older brother came to visit us, he hugged us as we cried in his shoulder. We cried and cried while he held us. He left when our mother finally came back. She had seemed a bit off, and she started crying. Apologizing then telling us to just leave.

My sister is extremely sassy, so she sassed our mom of course. She's the younger one, I envy how strong she can be. Because I broke. I was shattered and crying as my mother was yelling at us. The half eaten cold lasagna laid on the table. I wanted to phone my dad to come get us. I wanted to leave so badly. But I stayed and I wish I hadn’t.

We both stayed. I had still hoped that maybe things would go back to normal after she saw us. But I was naive, nothing went back to normal, we had to get used to the empty promises our mom told us. Birthdays were celebrated without her....she used to go all out on birthdays. Bake our cakes, make up fun games and even have Halloween birthday parties with Halloween themed food. But now...now we barely even have birthday parties.

We were living with my Aunt now, I barely went outside of my room and I ate my feelings away while watching my favourite tv shows. I got large, I hated myself because I blamed myself for our mothers absence. 'Was I not a good enough son? Did I not listen good enough? Did I fail my family? Why? Why did you leave us?' I asked myself every night. Every night I spent alone, crying with my blades to keep me company.

I started smoking pot with my cousin to take me away from the pain. But it never lasted. I began cutting more, to numb the sadness. That never lasted either. I soon began to envy my friends who had their mothers pack their lunches, who had small little fights with their mom.

I used to be like that. I was a mamas boy after all. I told everything to my mom. Every secret. The first kiss I had, the first time I dated a guy, first time I dated a girl, first time I had sex... the first time I had my heart broken... the first time I smoked pot. The first time I got drunk. She was there. For everything. She was. She was the first to accept me as being transgender. But now. Now she's gone. The only thing on her mind is the drugs.

Where are you now mom? Why did you do this? We had family trips, we had the perfect family. So why did you leave?

I wrote that two years ago, she’s still a drug addict, maybe she’ll get better but I tried to be there for her. I gave her places to live, money, drove her where she wanted. She’s told me many times how’s she clean, I always gave her the benefit of the doubt. I just want to let whoever reads this know that there is only so much you can do for someone. No matter how much you love them, no matter who they are, sometimes you need to cut ties, maybe not permanently. Mentally I’m doing better, I still hope that someday I will have my mom back again.