I was born in 1998. Believe it or not, quite a bit can happen in 17 years. Lots of learning, and growing. That's why things happen ya know...
Anyway, I remember when I was little that I wanted a little sister. The problem with wanting a little sister is that I was a growling, mean, protective little bulldog and my mom Theresa was this beautiful, charismatic, flirtatious, amazing woman. Uh oh. Okay those are her good traits, her good angle when the camera is facing her way. Her not so good angle... She makes bad decisions. We all do, so no judgement. The judgement only starts when you make the same bad decision once, then again, another, and oops one more time. Everything happens for a reason; to learn and grow and experience. Ugh okay so no judging. She's growing. She has not yet learned what she needs to so she needs to relive the lesson. Her family relives it with her.
Given all her good traits, she attracted men. Human nature. Okay, so she attracted 3 of my siblings sad first. Jake. Hard working, money makimg, strip club regular who really likes beer and hunting. That marriage lasted a few years and the only thing that mattered that came out of it was my 3 siblings. 2 older brothers and an older sister. Nate, Nikki, and Jim. They're my everything.
Next on the list came my dad Matt, by the way, any boyfriends my lovely mother has had that didn't result in children are just fluffers. When children are the result of a mate, that's when its important. So my dad. My mom got my older brother Mitchell and me out of him. He is the only blood related brother I have out of 6. What's blood though? My mother was once a nomad, a free spirited "independent" stubborn wild woman. My mom left my dad because he was a lost soul, a confused love-hungry lost soul and nobody understood that, even my mother so she left him. He was addicted to alcohol and drugs. He needed love so bad. That was his way of asking for it and nobody understood that language. So when I was 15 months old, I left my father's life by choice of mama and I didn't see him again until I was about 5.
I remember bits and pieces of our visit vividly. The rest is a blur. My brother was there of course, he is 3 years older than me. I remember stupid little things like laying on the floor with the door open and sunlight pouring in on me and the floor. And then I remember something that confuses me. My dad took my brother and I swimming, he brought along a friend. So Mitchell and I were having a ball splashing and playing. Of course I wasn't paying attention to what the adults were doing, I was in my 5 year old glory. A hot sunny day playing and wading in the cool water having the most enjoyable time with my brother. What I didn't know at the time was that my dad and his friend were also enjoying themselves, maybe a little too much. They were sipping on mixed drinks in the warm summer Sun lounging on the beach. My father liked alcohol too much, as already revealed. So at the same time that his friend was off making more drinks, my dad drifted off and was enjoying a sedated nap. While my dad was busy doing that, I got my little foot caught in a net that was imbedded in the murky water to keep little ones like me from drifting out too far into the lake. As luck found me, my foot was caught in a hole in the net just a little too deep for me to break the surface of the water. I remember having my eyes open, which I refuse to ever do in the water, and I was struggling with all my might to shimmy myself above water. I could see the sunlight shining, the water swooshing above me, but I could breathe no air. My 8 year old brother must've caught eye of me because after what seemed like eternity I felt my long-ish bleach blonde hair being tugged violently, and my foot slipped out of the net and I was being dragged into the Sandy beach in front of my father. That was the last time I ever saw my father.
