family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
Springle... The House
Herman Blalock was another of my mother’s boyfriends. Herman was tall, dark, and not-so-handsome. Herman was married and mom was his side piece (mistress/girlfriend). Mom liked being the side piece. She was not enamored of being a wife. Mom always told me that being a wife and mother were the two most unappreciated jobs on the Earth. Her mantra was that every woman was a whore whether she was married or not. Her reasoning…? Women had to screw to get any and everything. When I asked her why she dated married men, she replied that she did not want the responsibility of being married and did not want to have to wash a man’s draws (underwear). She wanted the sex, gifts, money, and attention, but not the attachment. I guess the two marriages she had in the past had jaded her. Mom also grew up in a time when women did not have a voice, which made her feel that marriage was more of an expectation and requirement than the wedded bliss idea that is so bandied about from that era. She had no desire to be tied to one man, or so she said. Mom did not sing often, but when she did it was always The Side Piece Blues. Here are the main lyrics. He is not here on holidays. He does not want to be seen in public with me. I cannot call him. He does not spend enough time with me. Blah, blah, blah… One of the most hateful things about mom having boyfriends was that she always wanted, encouraged, and allowed her boyfriends to discipline Tony. The child counselor told her that he needed a positive, male role model. I guess you could call her married, alcoholic boyfriends that. At least they were male. I never let them get away with that shit though. I would wait until mom left the room, then I would tell Tony to leave. I told Herman he should go home and discipline his own children! I told him my brother already had his own no-good dad. He did not need a pretend one. Besides, Mr. Big Bad Herman was afraid of black cats and walking under ladders. If we were driving down the street and a black cat crossed in front of his car he would slam on brakes and drive backwards all the way around the block just to get where he was going so he could convince himself that a black cat had not crossed his path. He wouldn’t walk under ladders either. I guess that was bad luck too. He was such a positive, male, role model.
By Susan Wilkins4 years ago in Humans
Springle... The House
It is now early fall…late September-ish of 1972. Today is Saturday, and it is about 5:30 pm. A different group is at The House this evening. Although it has been a typical day (the usual morning mental abuse coupled with a Cinderella day), this evening is a bit more mellow. Most of the drinking group is here, but for some reason they are doing more talking than drinking. It has turned into a night of tall tales and “remember the time when” stories, a competition of who could tell the most exaggerated and outlandish versions of how something had happened. Lots of laughter, and boisterous outbursts ensued. They are actually quite lovely sounds. It lends an atmosphere of fun to the usually tense air.
By Susan Wilkins4 years ago in Humans
Why I Changed My Mind About Taking My Husband's Name
To take or not to take… "Do or do not. There is no try." -Yoda Actually, nowadays, a couple has options when they get married. They can do the hyphen thing. The husband can take the wife's name. They can change their last name completely by combining their favourite hobbies and becoming The Gardenknits.
By Katharine Chan4 years ago in Humans
Springle... The House
Sometime in August, 1972 we were still on summer vacation. Mom had been hanging out at the house with her current, main boyfriend, Curtis. Curtis was about ten to fifteen years younger than mom. Sometimes he brought his young son (around 4 years old), Curtis, Jr. with him. Curtis, Jr. called mom “the girl”, and he adored mom. If he had a hangnail and his dad tried to take care of it he would say “no! Let the girl do it!!” I am glad to say that Curtis, Jr. was not with his dad today. If he had been, that would have meant me keeping up with him while mom and Curtis drank and “napped” and drank. Thankfully, I could just be a kid for a while.
By Susan Wilkins4 years ago in Humans
Springle... The House
Clarence Clinton was my brother’s best friend. They had been friends since kindergarten. Clarence was being raised by his grandmother because his mother died of a drug overdose when he was an infant, and his father was a member of the famous musical group Parliament/Funkadelics and was on the road a lot. Clarence was a frequent visitor at our house and had become family. He was at our house today to help my brother barbeque for the 4th of July. He swore that his dad had taught him to build/start the perfect grill fire. My brother knew nothing about cooking or building a fire. I don’t think Stephen had an interest in doing anything that consisted of taking care of himself; including taking a bath or shower, doing his own laundry, or any sort of cleaning of his environment. He knew that if he didn’t do it I would have to take care of it. This also included cooking or preparing anything to eat for himself. Actually, by this time in our lives, he was content to eat nothing else but peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and drink milk. He would also eat anything I cooked. If mom cooked it, he was back to eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Sometimes he would eat the tv dinners that mom heated up in the oven. I think he liked the salty, greasy “fried” chicken and the weird dessert (anything sweet). Stephen was just at the barbeque as an unwilling participant, and because Clarence was there. I think Clarence was there because I was there. Most of Stephen’s friends had a crush on me. Ugh!
By Susan Wilkins4 years ago in Humans
Being Related is no Excuse for Accepting Toxic Behaviour
When my stepdad asked his sister why she and his nephews do not come to visit, she replied that it was because of their uncle. She explained that their uncle is always making negative comments every time he sees them, such as telling my stepdad's niece that she's fat instead of asking her how she is. To be honest, I fully support their decision. I strongly believe that if family members are always criticising you and only bringing you down, then you have every right to stay away from them. Do not worry about what you need to get them for Christmas or for their birthday just because they are family. Being related does not mean you should allow people to step all over you.
By Diani Alvarenga4 years ago in Humans
Freedom
Freedom is somewhat a loaded word. I say that because are we ever really truly free. Freedom can mean a lot of different things. It definitely does to me. The first thing I think of is where I live. I live in the U.S.A. I have a lot more freedom than some people around the world. You can go from poor to a millionaire with the right idea or work ethic and a little luck.
By Jeremy White4 years ago in Humans
A Lifetime To Connectedness
When I was a very young boy, I remember looking up at the stars, knowing that there was more connection to myself that was yet to be uncovered and discovered. There was a woman, some where out there, who physically brought me into this world! Now as grown man, I have completely come full circle, in that I have reconnected back to whence I originated. It has actually been a lifetime in the making, as an adoptee, but just this last year, I have finally come to know true connectedness. The following story, I hope, will capture the initial physical reconnection with my biological Mother. Our first meeting took place during the 4th of July weekend, in Carmel, IN. She was in the process of slowly relocating there from Minnesota, where she was born, raised and lived her life up to this point.
By David J Donnellon4 years ago in Humans
Three Stories About My Mother.
There are many stories I could tell you about my mother. This story, though, has had the most lasting effect upon my life. It is a story that is both amusing and thought-provoking, … but mostly amusing. This is a story of how my mother almost ruined any chance I would ever have of a meaningful relationship in my life.
By Doug Woods4 years ago in Humans
