I Am My Own Cousin.

Chapter 18: Judi Flew through the Cuckoo's Nest

While Dad was in the looney bin we broke into his house. When we learned of his whereabouts Mom decided it was a golden opportunity to get back some of our belongings. Like master thieves we mapped out a plan to break into his trailer. We would need to act fast because we had no idea how long he would be incarcerated.

We drove up to the back of his trailer after school ended; it was still broad daylight. Because she was skinny and semi tall, Judi climbed up on my shoulders and cracked open the living room window. "Hurry up before someone see's us." I grunted. She stepped all over me as she used her puny little arms to pull herself through. As soon as she was inside Mom snickered, "I guess I could have pulled the car up and let her just climb on the hood but It was funnier to watch her climb on you." "Damn it Mom." Judi swung open the backdoor.

I grabbed a couple of black garbage bags and stuffed them with clothes. Dad probably wouldn't notice anything was gone; his trailer was overrun with junk. Boxes, garbage bags, and storage containers lined every inch of space, full of our belongings that had been held hostage. We were in and out in under five minutes. I made sure to grab a few of Mom's scrap books from high school. One of them contained three gold medals from the Special Olympics, won a couple years before we were born. She wasn't physically disabled... she had earned her spot by being in special ed.

Mom was so committed to making it into the competition that she purposely flunked a couple of her tests to qualify. She was urged on by an unscrupulous and overly competitive track coach. When we were tiny kids she would show us the medals and reminisce about the victories. "No one was even close to beating my time in the 50 yard dash. I had the best time in the state." Not comprehending she was a ringer I had bragged to my first grade classmates about her athletic accomplishments. "My Mom is an Olympian, a SPECIAL Olympian! It's specialer than all the other Olympics."

As a teenager I no longer bragged or shared much about my family with classmates. It was awkward working them into casual teenage conversation topics like, "Dad was taken to the funny farm last night." "My Granny said she had a sex dream about Stone Phillips." or "I think my Mom may want to bump uglies with my Uncle."

Once Dad got out of the mental hospital we had to resume visitations with him. The courts didn't seem overly concerned that he had proven he was a danger to himself. When he picked us up for the first time after he got out we acted like things were normal- overly cautious about mentioning anything that would let on that we knew he had been committed. But the harder I tried to hide avoid the subject the more often it randomly spewed out my mouth in the form of word vomit. "Did you hear about the new accusation about Monica Lewinsky, crazy isn't it?" "My teacher let us watch an awesome Alfred Hitchcock film, it was called Psycho." "A girl in my class almost went into anaphylactic shock, because she has an extreme allergy to nuts."

When we finally got to Dad's trailer he gathered us all in the living and finally acknowledged the mentally ill elephant in the room. "You may have wondered why I didn't call you this Tuesday. I had a bad couple of days and hit rock bottom. You kids have a right to know what happened and ask me any questions you may have. I have been really sad for a long time and began having thoughts about hurting myself. You all know that I have a phobia of being run over by a train." (I didn't know he had any such phobia.) " When I began thinking about walking down to the train tracks near the trailer and laying and waiting to die, I knew I was sick. I called your Aunt and she took me to the hospital to get help."

"The doctors gave me medicine and helped me work through some problems. I realized that I haven't been fair in my assessment of your mother. She had every right to leave me and try to have a better life for you kids. I was really hurt and had let it well up until I couldn't control it anymore. I am really sorry for how I have behaved and for letting you kids see me so angry. I am going to write or talk to everyone I've had contact with the last few months and apologize to them for my behavior. I thought I should apologize to you kids first. Can you find it in your hearts to forgive me for the last few months?"