Being a better student starts with a to do list, A plan of action and the will to see it through. And, apparently some discipline too.
…which I need all of the above…
!!! On it !!!
I have spent the better part of month turning this house over and donating and throwing away anything that is just taking up space. I’m finally getting somewhere! Redecorated, Made the Laundry Room, Elliott’s new computer lair and sleeping quarters. It’s Awesome, with a 54 inch curved monitor, a 42 inch curved monitor vertical with a 50 inch television above the 54″ curved one to go with his 600 Watt computer. His Room is warm at all times. He has to crack his window to cool the electricity down. Oh, and he has a 32″ TV at the end of his bed.
I have already started writing my parents Eulogies. One is bad. And, one is good. They are still alive, but nearing their ends.
And, the bad one says, ‘cut him from the will because he has always been bad.’ – Reject baby. And, she thinks to herself, ‘I never liked him anyway.’ – Reject baby. ‘He speaks the truth and I will hear none of it.’ – Reject baby.
And the tiny and quiet baby, who was the best baby in world, who never was a problem and was a peaceful, good baby, and only wanted to be loved but was rejected before he could even speak, so he didn’t, looks at his mother figure and thinks, ‘why does she love the new baby and not me anymore. What about me?’ And, that was the way it was from there on out, for the rest of his life, to this present day.
The new baby was her favorite and she enjoyed spending all of the proud moments with him and his family for the rest of his life. I was always, and always will, be proud of my little brother.
And, the good baby became a nuisance for her to deal with for the rest of his life. So, it was just easier in the end, for her, not to.
And, the tiny, quiet, good natured baby brain shutdown for a while to another place to process life on his own, (beaten with the belt) with no one’s help to rely on, but only himself, (beaten with the belt) to guide him through and through. He was the only one there for himself, always. (beaten with the belt) He was always by himself.
The good baby heard, “Maybe we’re not getting through to him.” “Beat him with the belt.“
The good baby was told when he was young, that he fell off a dresser as a baby in diapers.
Today, the good baby asks God, “Was I born deaf? Or, did I go deaf? Why would I ever ask you that?” Did my head land on my left side? Did my brain have to rewire itself afterwards? Did my mom always think this?
The good baby was painted black by his own mother, and was then scolded and judged for the rest of his life for being that way telling my friends “to save her wayward son.” I was somebody else’s problem. She looked for someone else to save me. Anyone, but her.
In the mean time, she told anybody who would listen about how unfairly her parents treated her growing up. She could not talk enough to all, how all of her miseries resulted and/or stemmed from, her well announced trauma’s of how she was wronged by her parents.
, you to asked me long ago, early in our relationship, if my mom was physically abused by her parents. I said no. But, asked ‘why you would ask that?’ You said, ‘because, she complains about her parents soo much that, that must be why she talks excessively about it, to anybody and everybody.” I said, ‘no, she just had to help raise her siblings in a large family and blames that for all of her woes from there on out.”
, you said to me, “your parents dont love you. How can you not see that?” And I said “yes they do.” I kept saying ‘yes they do.’ ‘yes they do.’
, you said to me, “they told us we live too far. But, would drop off a token by our house each time they journeyed 1/2 way across state to see your baby brother she never stopped loving. They don’t miss a moment with his children.’ I always thought that was great for my brother and his children.
, you always reminded me that my other brother lived the exact same amount of miles from us and they spent almost every weekend together. And, the holidays too. The family that I know nothing about. I speak the truth.
, you said to me, ‘my parents were not accepting any new applicants for grandchildren when it came to ours.‘ I refused to believe it. Remember. I kept saying ‘it is not true.’ You said, ‘they dont want to spend time with our children. They only get a call from their grandparents on their birthdays. They dont call you. They don’t call them.’ To this day, they never spent time with them.
, you said to me, ‘your mother will talk to any one who will listen about how rotten your dad’s parents were to him.” you said, “she hates your dad’s parents with a passion.”
, the final straw, that made me realize you were right all along. Remember what they did to us? When they told us that they didn’t do the family traditional Christmas Eve dinner anymore. Remember, they said that to us? And, I called my big brother that night and they were at family traditional Christmas Eve dinner together, celebrating. Remember, how we felt when we realized that the traditional family Christmas Eve dinner was over, just for us. Remember, that’s when I finally realized that my parents didn’t even consider me and my wife, or my two young children as thier family. Remember, That’s when I cracked or split or fractured or went numb or just couldn’t hope to care anymore for my mom to finally love me. Remember. I do. I dont forget those kind of things. We moved away to be alone. We were already alone.
, when there was that period when my mother was extra, and she was running her unchecked mouth away to all. And multiple, more than a few, of family members mentioned to her that she had become offensive. Constructive criticism, of course. When she questioned my father if this could be true what they were telling her, for the first time, and only time in their relationship together, my father told her the truth and said, “maybe you should listen to what they are saying.”
Well….My mother did not speak to him for a week. he had to sleep on the couch. He ended up being the one to apologize, begging her back, buying her flowers and taking her out to eat. Nothing was resolved except that my father had no spine when it came to my mom, therefore my mother went unchecked her entire life. offending anyone, anytime, because her husband would tell her it was ok.
I only tell you this, because as a young boy, I noticed how my mom would manipulate my dad, and as a small child, I would point out her ways to her, challenging her behaviors, because my father would not. She alreadyresented me. What did I care if I called out her ego driven ways. I was black, not golden, in her eyes. I always will be.
My dad was the sweetest, kindest and honest person I have ever met. I am proud that my character, who I am, is a direct reflection of him. A kind hearted soul who never looks to harm or cross or manipulate anyone. I love my dad. His intentions have always been pure in life. This is why my mom thinks he is am angel. He does put up with her like a Saint.
I have a spiritual need for realness. My Dad, is real. My mom, is not. He would have loved me for who his good son is, if only my mom would have allowed him to get to know me. I love my Dad. He is always welcome to talk to me. And, I would be happy. Life is pretty lonely when your parents disregard you from the beginning. My mind adapted inward. I have always played coy.
But my dad’s kindness is also his weakness. And, my mother walked all over him his entire life, controlling ever aspect and angle. She did not let him retire until he was forced to, because of medical conditions of the brain at the Aage of 78 or 79. She was still saying how much he loved to go to work! I’d ask him that question, “she answered the sentence with the sentence I wrote before”, for him, until his brain malfunctioned and she had to accept him home for retirement.
As a small child, my mom was my study subject. I learned a lot of stuff of the mind from observing her patterns growing up. One thing I knew my entire life, I would not have my wife walk all over me. I am a man. A real man who owns himself 100%. I know myself and my capabilities and I love and thank God for that.
I Guess my mom was right in her assessment of little baby me. I am slow. Because, the above took the course of a decade for it to sink into my snail brain. Or was it 52 years? No difference.
My sweet dad is/was my mom’s pacifist. “Her saint” as she calls him. As a result of him never putting his foot down like a man, and not being able to voice his concerns about her behaviors for what unbelievable words spewed from her mouth in public to her friends and family,, created a woman, over the decades, who is absolutely controlling and any constructive criticism about her character or behavior is only looked at by her as an absolute attack on her. So be it.
But it was our belief in something greater early on in our relationship, remember Angela, that repelled the presence of my parents in our lives. Remember, our firm belief in God, and our conservative approach to life and this world, mentioning the harm that vaccines caused made us the boogie man of society. And clearly an embarrassment once again to my mom’s friends, whose opinions mattered most in her eyes. Because of this, when Elliott was my age in the picture below my parents were already pushing him away, just like they did me. Some story, different child. My blood.
When covid came around, me being of utmost concern for my parents health and longevity, suggested to my mother that they do some research on this new wonder vaccine before considering it. This was within weeks of the news announcing said cure, months before it was available. I simply stated, it’s not a new drug, there are developement studies available, and they state is that in the animal trials of said drug, the. majority of the animals that were administered it ultimately came down with brain damage. I left it at that. My mom stuck her nose up at me for ever suggesting such nonsense. Her opinion was the only one that ever mattered in her life.
So, my mom made sure that they were first of all the people injected with the secret sauce. They got their life saver shots, and the xtra 6 months later. because, after all, they were deemed most vulnerable being old and all. With in a year of the first jab, my dad, one day, out of the blue, seemingly overnight, woke up different the next day with severe brain damage, with a gate in his walk and a slur in his speech. I am pretty sure he could barely speak when it happened and now walked deformed.
But, in the years that followed this severe setback for him, he recognized what was happening to himself and set out to try to improve himself physically, through physical activities to learn to walk correctly again, and taking speech classes that I noticed a drastic improvement in, over the years.
I was, am and always will be proud of him for never giving up, never quitting. It is because of him that I dont give up and will never quite. That’s all I wanted to tell him the last time we didnt speak.
I need not remind everyone that my mom cursed God her entire life. She was vocal in her stance against Him since my dad decided that God did not exist after studying Theology in college. Their Loss.
Is/was my dad’s brain damage a curse? Maybe. Not from me. It certainly wasn’t a blessing from God. We all die one way or another, when it is our time. Ny mom was so arrogant in her position, that just being told to consider other research from other Doctors was a slap to her face. She has always known best. May God take my father in his sleep when it is his time. Peace be with him.
I know when I die my heart is aligned with God and my higher purpose. I will know that I lived the best that I could for myself, my children and my God, everyday of my life, in honor of my higher purpose. In honor of that which created me. Nothing but respect for the hierarchy of my elders above.
The last time I spoke to my mother, I asked to speak to my father, but was told I could not, because he needed to wait for his speech class that was going to be coming up soon. His speech class coming up was more important than speaking with his son who loves him and just wanted to hear his voice and give him words of encouragement because I am proud of him. Hopefully my mother gives him words of encouragement. My guess is that she just complains about how bad her life is as her husband slowly dies in front of her. It’s sad.
I love you daddy. Just like you, I will never give up until the very end, when I can draw air in no longer, and my breath is no longer mine.
I extended my hand with an olive branch and apologies to my mother to hopefully have some sort of relationship with her. I was rejected once again and for all. My mother will never call me again. She hasn’t called me in many, many, many years. She wouldn’t and she didn’t because I was the son that she just wanted to forget about. It has always been gross. And, hard on my heart.
I thank you, my sweet, beautiful, thoughtful wife, for reminding me, and showing me, that my parents never really seemed to love me all that much. Only, when it suited my mother. I was the after-thought from day one and always will be. Now I know. God has shown me. I extended my hand with an olive branch and apologies and was rejected once again and for all. My mother will never call me again. I love you Angela. You were the one person who truly loved me. I will see you in Heaven one day.
I only have love in my heart.
I know where I am going. I walk alone, no more. I have God to guide me. – after 52 years of being rejected by my mother – Reject Mama. She is not going to Heaven.
My brain and cognitive skills have finally developed to maturation. I can see clearly. I have 100% belief in myself. I have 100% belief in my thoughts and conscience. I am the master of my own domain. God is my center and my force in my heart. He is all I need. I will make him proud.
I get stronger everyday: physically, mentally and spiritually.
Who can defeat you, oh, King of the Heavens? No one. Not even death. Only those who are given life, understand truly what a gift you are in their presence and honor you daily.
Amen.
I will always improve myself. I will always believe in myself. I will always be a son of God.
I reach for nothing short of Heaven.
Angela, I wanted to tell you that I work out soo hard. I’m on a mission. I push myself to physical exhaustion everyday for my 30 minute workout.
I just sat down after finishing my Friday grand finale.of my weekly circuit and I collapse when I am done, in exhaustion, with nothing left to give.
I have gotten so fit and strong and athletic, that you would see me and say, “oh my…” and before you could finish your sentence…I would take your breath away.
Bye.
Leave a Reply