Re: So tell me
When I was in grade school, My brother and I would walk to school together. it was about two blocks from my Nanaws house. Mom and dad had split up, so we were all three ( mom, my brother and I ) staying there. Mom worked with Nanaw at the sewing hall. They would leave right before we would and we would get home before they did. However back then ( 85 ish) it was not such a worry to let your children be home alone. We knew to lock doors, not talk to strangers ect, and we also would come do our homework then go play in the back yard. Military town of Lawton/ Ft Sill.
This made sneaking a stray in that much easier! This dog followed us home( led by out leftover school lunch!) and we already named him Benji. He looked just like the mutt from TV. We had two other dogs, who were both pups from a dachund we got in Germany when dad was stationed there.
Shortly after, say a few months? my dad who lived back in SC. decided he wanted us over for the summer. So he made plans with mom to come get us. During the weeks before, my mom would frequently get into it with my Nanaw, and I remember my moms heart breaking, as she was told that once we were out she had to leave as well, because she only had a home there with us. As sad as she was she never showed it to us, even when we left. My brother and I begged to bring the dogs, and dad complied, but we too the two pups from Penny, as Penny was his dog as well, and mom thought they were safe.
Dad lived with his new wife in a rental house on someones farm, so there was a pony, Johhny, as well as goats directly across from us. Rusty, the male pup had a habit of chasing the goats, and ended up getting bored in the side. We had to put him down. I will never forget the shot heard from the woods that evening, and dad taking my brother out to bury his dog.
Summer was coming to a close and one night after we were sent to bed, I could hear a conversation from my dad saying, he was not traveling to bring us back, that if mom wanted us and really loved us she would come pick us up. He also explained how he already enrolled us in the school system there, and that she need not worry about us. The next day my step mother had told us that clearly our mom didnt want us home because she told my dad she just couldn't do it. She had to have surgery on her hands from Carpal tunnel , and so she lost the job at the sewing hall, and was trying to make it as a bar tender. Three years passed of my brother and I being here in SC with my dad and his wife, who also had a child a little younger than us. We had to endure mind games of being told she could care less and never sent us cards or called us. All of which were lies of course. She did send cards and clothes. Every birthday and Christmas and Easter and even Thanksgiving cards would come and would have a dollar, or a five and a letter telling us how much she was so very proud of us and how much she loved us, and when she would call. These cards and letters hardly made it to us and the money never did.
So after three hard years, she finally had saved enough money, never told dad until the beginning of her trip ( its three days drive from OK to SC) but she did it. She came, and proudly stood in the doorway telling my dad and step mom that she was here for her kids. And we finally were able to go home.
In the time I was there with my stepmother, my self esteem was shattered, and I was never really allowed to go to other peoples houses. My dog ( Casey) whom I brought with me, was let off the chain and I was not allowed to look for her. I had fallen off my bike earlier, and broken my arm. Of which I was made to wait until the next day to have it checked out.
All of this, has made me a much stronger person. We had no internet, and was allowed TV for only a couple hours a day. Was locked outside so we would not be running in and out. It was also in this time that I would lose myself in artwork. Sitting and drawing for hours on end because the thought of being around such uncaring people was too much to handle when you are nine.
Now, It's not that dad didn't care for us, he just has a hard time showing it. He did love us, and he tried the best he knew how. In his mind, we were in a stable home, with a family who loved us and we had what we needed. However, his wife was not on board with that. Supper most nights consisted of a hot dog weenie over-boiled, and cold ketchup to the side, and boxed mac n cheese with overdone noodles and the powdered cheese haphazardly mixed into it. Dad worked hard, two jobs to support us. And he had no real idea of how we truly were being treated.
But yeah that's my childhood.
"I've macrostoma tastes on a veiltail budget. "
If i drew it it'd look like a monkey eating a horsradish on the moon or something