When Her Color Fades

Born to Raise Hell

1991 was a year full of big things. The Hubble telescope was launched, the U.S.S.R came to an end, Home Alone premiered in theaters, and I, Taylor Madelyn Jacobs, was born. On November 26th at 4:08 PM, I came into the world at 5 pounds 5 ounces to my parents,  Wayne and Denise Jacobs. I had jaundiced skin, thin red hair, and dark eyes. I was so small that people were afraid to hold me for the first few months of my life out of fear of "breaking" me. 

Months went by and I grew as any normal baby would. I passed all of a baby's biggest milestones on time like I was supposed to. I had my first big cheesy grin in January, crawled for the first time in June, my first tooth broke through my gums in August, and I walked on my own in late October of 1992. I was slowly becoming a mobile eating, sleeping, and shitting machine. I grew with each passing day and started to develop my own little personality. I loved to dance to country music, especially with my Memaw and Bigmomma. Alan Jackson was my absolute favorite country singer, and still is to this day. Mashed potatoes were my favorite food and that has never changed. I can still put away an ungodly amount of potatoes in my stomach. Purses were never safe in my presence because I always rummaged through them looking for candy and sticks of gum. Nail files were also never safe in my presence. Every time I would find one I would file my nails for a bit, realized I hated the feeling more than anything, and then I would snap it in half and throw it down. I had dolls for days, my favorite cartoon was Blue's Clues, and the theme from the TV show "Cops'' was my favorite song.

I had a fairly average life as a small child. It wasn't super crazy, but not totally perfect either. When I was small I spent a lot, if not most, of my time with my grandparents and great grandma. My memories of it are a bit fuzzy, but I don't really remember being with my parents a lot. My dad was a construction worker and worked long hours every day. My mom usually worked in the office at his job sites. Sometimes when she wasn't able to be the office lady at his construction sites she had a job elsewhere, but not often. All her jobs never lasted long either. My dad was always the main breadwinner. Work was probably a huge factor for why I didn't see them much, but I was told otherwise later in life. I had been told conflicting things about why I was born as well as why I didn't see my parents very often and wasn't sure what to believe. On one hand I was told that I was born on purpose in order to save my parents relationship because it was on the verge of failing. They did happen to get married right around the time my mom became pregnant with me. I was at the wedding, but you couldn't see me. That always looked a bit sketch to me. On the other hand, I was told I was a total accident that my parents weren't prepared for and didn't want at the time.I had no idea what was true and what wasn't. I had debated on asking my parents about it before, but didn't know if I would get any answers from them. It's easy to lie, especially about something like that. I was also afraid it would anger them, so I never bothered with it. I don't believe someone telling their parents that they heard things like that would go very well.

According to a number of different people, my parents' relationship was really rocky when I was small. They argued a lot and fights even got physical at times. I had been told that my dad had a bit of a drinking problem, and anytime you saw him outside of work he was most likely drunk or working on getting that way. I remembered him drinking quite a bit when I was younger, so I know for sure that's true. I remember him getting really drunk  one time and pissed off our pet cat and let it sit there and shred his arm til it was drenched in blood. My mom had to come in and stop him. I remember her yelling at him and calling him names, and then he got up and stormed off outside. I always saw pictures and home videos of him with beer in his hand or nearby as well. He also had an anger problem and a very short fuse. He's never been one to put up with bullshit and does not handle stress well. I was told stories about how he would get drunk and break things during fits of anger, put his fist through furniture, knock holes in walls, and lash out at anyone who tried to calm him. I was even told a horrifying story about how he had chopped a cat completely in half with an axe one time for climbing up on their new car and getting it dirty. He was tired of seeing dirty little paw prints all over his new vehicle, so he took care of the issue in a fit of rage. The chaos in our home would get so bad that my grandma Jo would get called to come pick me up and take me to her house on many occasions. Hazy memories of being picked up in the middle of night by my grandparents are all I have from that period of time as far as personal experience goes. I remembered being sleepy, cold, and bundled up in my grandma's jacket as I was brought through the doorway of their home in the middle of the night one night. That's probably the earliest memory I have in my life. Even if it's all true, I'm ok with it for the most part. I had a wonderful relationship with my grandma and great grandmother and wouldn't trade that for anything. I do often feel that maybe if things weren't so bad between my mom and dad as a child that I would have a better and healthier relationship with them than I currently do. Jealousy sets in at times whenever I see friends or relatives that have loving and affectionate relationships with their parents, but I try to brush it off as best I can. LikeI said, I love that I was raised by my two favorite people and I couldn't have picked better people to do it.