Time Has Taught

The Split

July 7th, 2023

The apartment had become too small for their growing family. My Dad and stepmom decided to move into a house. They found a house in Rhode Island which wasn’t far. It was around this time that we started to visit again. I can’t remember all the details and exact timeline but I know we ended up coming back around.

My brother(M) and I were very close. We did everything together. Our birthdays were even only 2 years and 2 days apart. He was the one to make me laugh when I cried in my crib. The one to protect me and even our older brother. We were so close and the best of friends.

I will never forget the day that the decision was made. The day that the decision came where my brother was going to live with our Dad. Not both of us. Just him. I think there was a reason of needing more assistance with his school and my Dad said he would take him and my mother never fought it. She really couldn’t have fought it anyway but she didn’t even try.

My mom and I were in matching overalls and we were driving to meet my Dad and stepmom. There was a bag packed as normal but only for my brother. We pulled in the parking lot and the front bumpers of each car facing each other. I remember watching as my brother went off into my Dad’s car and I stayed behind. I remember running to my Mom because it hurt to see my best friend now go with this family that I had come to dislike.

I was always excited to go on those weekend visitations after that because I looked forward to seeing my brother.
The Bridge

July 7th, 2023

Our little brother was born in August. I remember being excited to come and meet him. He was the one who would now join both families by blood. I had so much interaction with my baby sister that I assumed it would be the same with him. Unfortunately, this relationship ended up a little different.

The younger years of coming to visit were full of restrictions and protections of this new baby boy(J). As J grew, it became more and more clear that he was definitely a cherished one of the bunch. We felt as though we would easily get in trouble for things he did or even be restricted on what we were able to call him. You see, he had a nickname that everyone else was allowed to call him but we were not.

I began to build up a lot of anger towards this little boy and feeling more and more unloved and pushed aside as they built their family. None of my anger was because of him specifically but rather how we were treated in comparison to him and the others.

As time went on, he was a fun little guy who I actually enjoyed escaping to the basement with in order to launch cars at each other to crash. He had TONS of matchbox cars and we would lay there on the basement floor crashing them, racing them and sorting them.

He was the bridge between the kids that connected us together. I came very fond of my little brother as we grew and I still am very happy that he came into our lives that day. He didn’t do anything to cause the harsh feelings that I had back then. It was the actions of others and the perception that caused me to feel like we were less loved amongst the children.
Visiting Invasion

July 7th, 2023

I had to read back to where I left off in my story. So my stepmother and stepsisters moved in with my Dad. This began a long road off connection but also some brokenness.

We still had our weekend visitations with my Dad but now it included a whole family. Since we did not live there full time; my brother and I often felt as though we were the outsiders invading their world. We had diminished to be less important or at least that’s how it felt.

It wasn’t long before there was talk of marriage and then the announcement of a baby. We were young and didn’t really understand what all of it meant but what we did know is that we were losing time with our Dad. The weekend visits became more about us being sent in the backyard to play with our new siblings rather than time with Dad.

While the we felt as though we were being shoved off to the backyard; we did start to build some connection with these new siblings. The youngest stepsister was the one that interacted with us the most. She was so nice and inclusive…for the most part. Kids will be kids and we had our moments that we did not get along but she did become our bud until we got older.

I know my experience…and what I felt having a stepmother who openly disliked our mother; whom we cherished at the time. Unfortunately, we also had our mother speaking lies to us. She very much influenced our thoughts and opinions on this new marriage as a bad experience. There were countless moments that she convinced us that we were not important to Dad anymore. He had a new family and new children that he spent time with.

We began to believe the lies but they were accompanied by actions from our stepmother and Dad that led the lies to feel like truth. We felt like an inconvenience as time went on. It came a time where we thought it over and declared to our Dad that we didn’t want to come anymore. Caring more about how we felt; he allowed us that time but what none of us realized is the hurt that was caused through him not fighting for us. We felt forgotten and I can’t speak for my brother but I know anger built up inside towards these young girls who now had MY Dad.

It is a lot for young children to process and no one talked us through it in a healthy way. Back in that time; kids were not to know the “adult” situations even if it directly affected us. I agree to an extent. I think it was good that we didn’t know everything but my wish is that someone would have sat down and really asked us what we were thinking through all of it. How was it affecting us? Instead, we moved forward knowing that we loved our mom and that the two sides did not like each other or get along.

I am not trying to place blame on any one person. We were all at fault or at least all the adults could have done better if they had known better. That’s just it. That was how parenting happened back then.
Dirty Healing

June 15th, 2023

I began this blog with the intention of always being honest about my personal experiences and how they affect me. Being honest with these experiences means that I have had to go back and remember all the details that my brain wanted me to forget.

Anger. Why is it that anger is seemingly addicting? I enjoy sharing my experiences but I wouldn’t be considered honest if I said that it is not making me relive everything. The hurts of the past are creeping up as my story continues to unfold and it seems easier to live in that anger and be mad at the people who have caused all of those hurts.

Forgiveness. Forgiveness is a word or a concept that people throw around especially if they don’t understand the hurt and pain of another. While some are trying to guide you in what to do; they may not fully understand what that means for you. In this world, forgiveness tends to mean that we are ok with what you have done and that just is not the case.

I have days where I feel like I have forgiven and I want relationships with everyone that has caused me pain but then I have days where something little triggers me and I find it easier to hold these hurts against them. It feels easier or maybe even better to hold that as a reminder for them that they are not perfect. Maybe I feel that way because of their responses to my hurt? Maybe it is because they refuse to recognize and repent. Should I need that, though? I should not need them to recognize what they did to me in order to forgive them.

I think of Jesus in this moment. He doesn’t hold every hurt against us that we cause him. I have so much work to do to get my heart where I want it and where God wants it to be but I need to be honest with the struggle in order to move into that place. I want to continue to be honest and tell my story for exactly what it is and all the hurt that it has caused and still sometimes causes. Life is not perfect and life with Jesus is not perfect but conquering the imperfect moments is that much more possible if Jesus is the pillar to lean on.

God, grant me peace in these moments and strength to continue writing. Help me to forgive as you have forgiven us for our trespasses against you. Guide me as I tell your story in my life.
Begin to Blend

June 5th, 2023

I was only 6 years old. We were at Dad’s house for another visit. My brother and I were enjoying our time outside with another young boy who lived in our Dad’s apartment building. The warmth of the sun was beating down on our exposed skin as we chased all of the wildlife around.

The boys and I would chase, catch and contain snakes inside an empty trash can only to release them a short time later. Our days were full of endless games and ordering out for dinner in the evenings. We had the best times there but we would have never let our mother know it.

I don’t know the date but I will never forget that day. That day when something new was introduced into our world. There was an old computer sitting in the living room with a web-cam attached to the top of it.

We barged through the front door after releasing our last batch of captured serpents searching for an icy treat. As we entered the living room, we noticed Dad sitting in the chair at the computer. He was talking to it and focused on the conversation.

There was a break in the conversation of which he asked us if we would be willing to say “hello” to his friend. “Her name is N,” he said. So we lined up next to each other and recited the statement we were asked to say. We were greeting her from far away.

You see, my Dad had been on the internet and met N in a chat room. They really connected and suddenly things were beginning to change. It was some time later that I entered the kitchen to a cloud of smoke. There was a woman sitting in a chair with a grey sweatshirt on just grinning at my shy head peaking around the corner. I don’t remember the conversation or if there was anything said but that was my first impression.

My memory is failing me as I look back on the time that passed and the transitions that began. Looking back, it feels like only days but I know it was longer. When we arrived for another visit to my Dad’s house, we were greeted at the door by a teenage girl with her hair in a towel. She introduced herself to me as another young girl came running from the back room.

Confused, I looked around and entered my Dad’s apartment. Little did I know that those 2 girls would become my step-sisters. They had moved in from across the country. There was some anger inside me for the thought of two girls having my Dad all the time when I didn’t but I remember excitement as well as I realized that I would have girls to hang out with.

How could I have known where it would have gone after that? Only one person knew how the story would continue….
Infected With Lies

May 14th, 2023

It’s time to meet Dad so we can go to his house for the weekend. My brothers and I packed and prepared for the weekend festivities. You would think that the process would be easy for us to get ready but there was so much more to it. While we prepared our “clothing,” we also had to prepare our minds.

You see, our mother knew that she was falling short with the care of her children. She had a fear of children and youth being alerted to the fact that we were not living in a home. If children and youth got involved, she knew we would be removed from her care. She knew it, feared it and made us fear it as well. How could you instill that fear into a young child?

She knew we weren’t receiving the appropriate care that a child needed or deserved. We were, in fact, living in a car or any place we could find for the night. Her fear overcame her and caused poor decisions to be made.

The lies…the boot-camp of lies would begin. It was report time as we knew we had to go meet Dad for pickup. We would be drilled and be coached about the things that Dad may ask us about life and what we were to tell him in the attempt to hide away the “life” that we had. We memorized scripts about this fantasy life that we were to portray to Dad so that he wouldn’t take us away from our mother.

She was right about one thing. We would be questioned. It was in no attempt to ruin hers or our lives but rather to confirm that we were being cared for the way that we should have been. Dad would ask questions and we would return with this elaborate story about how we lived in a house with our own rooms and that life was great.

It felt dirty to lie but also oddly invigorating. We could control the narrative and in our heads “we had him fooled.” Little did we know, he was onto us this whole time. He knew something wasn’t right but he wasn’t sure what it was.

Visit after visit, we had to make sure that we had the story straight and the details the same. If he asked one of us apart from the others then the stories needed to line up. We were trained well in this mission of deceit.

It carried over into all areas of our life. Our friends’ parents suspected…we would lie. Our teachers suspected…we would lie. The lie that we were taught to tell was so ingrained into us that we began to hope and think that it was real. It was in us now and growing with every passing day.

The devil sure pulled on our fear and our mother’s fear in order to continue the path that he desired for our lives. Fear truly is a liar….
Mobile Home – Mobile Trauma

May 9th, 2023

We just delivered our oldest brother into his Father’s hands as he had the visitation rights for the weekend. This particular weekend wasn’t my Dad’s time to have us so we (my older brother, my baby sister and I) were left with our mother for the weekend.

Stores are closing, lights are going out and the sun is tucking itself away for the night. We didn’t have food yet and began to beg our mom for something to eat. She pulled into one parking lot where there was a flashing “open” light. It was a Chinese place.

“Mom, can we get something, please!!!??”

She reluctantly entered the store as we waited in the car. I believe she returned with two cartons and some fortune cookies. The cartons were packed full of rice. I started eating and I remember my older brother mentioning that he was full. I believe he said this due to the fact that he realized our mother was not eating. I believe he told us he was full because he wanted our mother to eat. So he gave up his food in order for her to also enjoy a meal.

Shortly after eating, I remember leaning the seat back and drifting to sleep. We woke up, in the morning, to someone (maybe an officer) telling us we couldn’t park there. After a few questions, I believe my mother made it look like we had stopped due to traveling and needing a moment to sleep. He let us go on with our business and requested that we leave that parking lot.

Due to not being able to afford repairs, the cars that we resided in, were not in the best of shape. During this time was when the breaks would give out and we would slide into ditches as she avoided hitting other cars or even into walls as we avoided other cars.

Also in the car is where we would eventually end up terrified. It was a time, again, when our oldest brother was away with his Dad and the three of us were with our mother. We were driving along the highway when smoke began to fill the cab of the car. My mother pulled over and jumped out. We had gone over this situation as a hypothetical preparation for safety. We got this! My brother and I went into survival mode as our mother had already ran.

We somehow freed our baby sister from her seat and managed to run together down the side of the highway. We got as far as we could while carrying our baby sister when we realized we had no sight of our mother. Soon after that, a man pulled over to help us. He offered us shelter in his truck. At this time is when our mother returned. We still don’t know where she went but wondered why she wasn’t helping us.

The first responders showed up and addressed the car fire while we waited in the man’s truck. There goes our “home” again. Now, where will we sleep?

We were eventually transported to our grandmother’s house.

God had his hand on us during this time. We could have died crashing into a ditch, into a wall or even in that car fire but I look back with a grateful heart that he was there with us. We didn’t know Him then so we didn’t know it was Him but we know it now…and…we will never forget it.
What’s Your Address?

May 9th, 2023

What’s your address? This seems like a simple question but, for me, it caused so much anxiety as a child.

“Please don’t ask me where I live.” I thought.

“Please don’t ask me if you can come over…”

Let’s walk back for a moment to tell you why this anxiety started.

We lived in that little apartment on Oak Street until things got out of hand financially. I do not know or remember all of the details but I know we lost the apartment on Oak Street. It was around this time that all of our belongings were stored in a large box and secured it with a lock.

If I remember correctly, we stayed with my mom’s mother (our grandmother) for a few days as she was in and out looking for jobs and a place to live. Eventually my grandmother kicked us out. We would end up driving around forever. I don’t remember if there was an agenda during these drives or if we were just occupying time.

During many of these drives is when we would end up in many car accidents/incidents. Many of these would affect me further into my life. The car is where we spent most of our time. In fact…the car became our home. We were now homeless. My brothers, myself, my mother and now…this baby. We didn’t have a home.

Where’s our bedroom that we shared laughter in? Where was our bedroom that we needed to clean? How do we cook? What about our toys? There were so many things wandering our minds but then a glimpse of excitement for a short time. “How cool to live in a car!” “It’s like camping.” Those thoughts were fleeting as we came to realize that this was going to be the new normal.

Where did we live? What was our address? We couldn’t tell you….
1….2….3….

May 5th, 2023

She’s rushing around gathering her items. My brothers and I are in our room playing. I hear the chaos and decide to run out and see what is going on. That name…that name was said. You know the name. It is the one that is called to come babysit. That babysitter that you just dread having. She called her. She stood in the bathroom quickly painting on her make-up as they spoke about the plans.

I stood at the door watching and wondering what the rush was. I remember her saying her water broke and that she needed to go to the hospital. Hospital? I had heard of those places at the time and immediately was scared and wondered what was wrong. Hospitals were for hurt people.

“Mommy, where are you going? Mommy! Mommy!” I began saying.

She wasn’t listening. She was focused on the phone conversation and rushing to finish her tasks. I don’t remember the in-between but I do remember that babysitter showing up soon after. I remember crying as I held her leg saying “please don’t go.”

This babysitter was so mean or so we thought at that age. She exhibited a lot of authority over us 3 and that was not what we were ok with. You see, we had been through a lot with our mother and it led the three of us to cling to one another.

Mom left and the babysitter started shouting orders and being rude to us. It may have been a healthy babysitter at the time but from what my trauma ridden brain can remember; she was abnormally mean. We began creating paper chains and hanging them up in the house. I wasn’t sure what the occasion was but I knew we were enjoying it until…

She decided to tell our oldest brother to go to his room. She thought she could make that decision to leave him there for the rest of the night. He listened and went to his room. 1….2…3… my older brother and I looked at each other and we knew what needed to be done. She does not hurt one of us three. My older brother(Let’s call him “M”) and I decided we were going to save “T”(the oldest brother). We decided to start acting out and she would have to address the other 2 and send us to our room as well. Think about that…we shared a room….

We ended up getting to be together in our room and enjoying our evening of bed jumping, tent making and toy excursions. It was at that time that we felt safe again. Together. I am not sure when the news or evening changed but we found out information at one point that changed our outlook. We received information that there would be another sibling added to our group. 1….2….3………FOUR!

Four kids!? Four kids, Mom? Really? We barely had what we needed already. Add another one!? Do you think I was really thinking that as a kid? I think the thought came at one point but I am not sure exactly when. I think there was excitement in me to know that there was a baby coming but I did not like that it meant that my mom would be away from me for a few days.

No one told me what that meant and that might have been best as I was just a little kid. I didn’t need to know that all of this was happening but what a surprise and struggle when we found out after the fact. We were confused, excited and wondering what was to come. What no one told me was that this new member of our family would become very important to me in the years to come. There would be a bond that is unexplainable except with time. It was all of us together now. Mom and the four of us….
Over the Shoulder

May 1st, 2023

I was maybe four or five by this time. It was a sunny afternoon on Oak street. We had just climbed up the musty stairwell into the yellow apartment building. Hearing the creak of each step as each child entered the “home.” We had just been released for the weekend and allowed to ignore schoolwork for a short time. We were consumed by the excitement of what might be in these “long” days that we had ahead of us.

As we entered the door, an exhale of commands were bestowed upon us to clean the apartment as fast as we could. We knew there would be inspections to follow. You see, my mother had realized that the excitement leading to the weekend meant that our father was coming to pick my brothers up and take them overnight. We had to clean our room of which the three of us shared. We began our tasks and would often be distracted by the joy that the three of us found together. That joy would soon end as we were redirected to complete the task given to us previously.

The time quickly approached and the house was presentable. We didn’t want to make it noticeable that we cleaned right before so there were still signs that children lived within those walls. The air was not fresh, the floors were not clean and the bathrooms remained full of residue. Let’s just say…the areas of which were cleaned were not ones that should have taken priority to a truly clean house. Time was ticking so it was time for my brothers to pack all the unwashed, stain covered and torn clothing for the arrival of our Dad.

The knock on the door was anticipated and I was prepared for my brothers to leave with our Dad for the weekend. Keep in mind that him being my Dad was fairly new to me as he had been convinced for some time that I was not his daughter. He arrived and greeted us. I am sure we played as they discussed, briefly, the plans for the weekend. Dad called and it was time to go. I remember hugging my brothers and crying as I did due to missing them for the weekend. That quickly changed as I realized that my brothers had their bags and that our Dad was holding another one. A bit confused, I watched as he told me to give Mom a hug. Was I leaving too? Why?

I remember crying and screaming that I didn’t want to go. Due to this being the arrangement that was decided, my Dad took me over his shoulder as I screamed and cried all the way down the musty steps. Facing over his shoulder, I just felt hate for this guy that was forcing me to leave my Mom. I watched each grain of dirt on the stairs as we made it to the outside door. He carried me to the car where my two brothers were waiting. They were patiently waiting for my Dad to unlock the doors so that we could all climb in. I don’t remember much after that moment. I don’t remember the car ride but I do remember his apartment.

That weekend was my official start of visitation with my Dad. We had so much fun! I remember him spending time with us, allowing me to fall asleep on his chest as he watched a movie. I remember listening to his heart beat and feeling safe. I was safe. I may not remember every detail but what I do know is that I will never forget that day or weekend. The day that I was introduced to “life with Dad.”