My earliest memories are all with my paternal grandparents when I was 4 or 5. My grandpa kept rabbits, and my grandma was so sweet - she loved to bake.
I remember my father got in a fist fight my cowboy hat flew off and someone ran over it with a car. I'm pretty sure he was drunk - driving drunk with me in the car.
I remember going with my mother to see her mother. That grandmother did not like me because I was my father's daughter and because I am allergic to cats. (She kept a cat and I couldn't stay in her home but about 10 min. before the itching and sneezing drove me outside.)
3/09/2009
3/06/2009
Benign Neglect
I was never a victim of real abuse.
Merely a victim of benign neglect.
My parents were so very young. That is an explanation, not an excuse.
Merely a victim of benign neglect.
My parents were so very young. That is an explanation, not an excuse.
3/04/2009
Estrangement
Short and sweet. I am a 50+ adult who is estranged from her parents.
My parents have been divorced from each other for over 40 years.
They were married at the end of a shotgun when she was 15 and he was 21.
Everyone resented everyone else, but the single most resented thing was me.
I was more the victim of benign neglect than anything else. I was the kid with the blue ribbon at the science fair who's parents never showed up.
When my parents finally divorced when I was 11, I was relieved. I liked their new partners.
But the signs of the times were already going up. An aunt called my mother the day after Halloween to tell her that my father had remarried on Halloween. I didn't believe it at first when my mother sneered at me that:
"Your dear sweet daddy who loves you so much got married yesterday. Wonder why they forgot to invite you."
I never asked why, I was afraid that to question anything would ruin my chances at being loved by either parent.
My parents have been divorced from each other for over 40 years.
They were married at the end of a shotgun when she was 15 and he was 21.
Everyone resented everyone else, but the single most resented thing was me.
I was more the victim of benign neglect than anything else. I was the kid with the blue ribbon at the science fair who's parents never showed up.
When my parents finally divorced when I was 11, I was relieved. I liked their new partners.
But the signs of the times were already going up. An aunt called my mother the day after Halloween to tell her that my father had remarried on Halloween. I didn't believe it at first when my mother sneered at me that:
"Your dear sweet daddy who loves you so much got married yesterday. Wonder why they forgot to invite you."
I never asked why, I was afraid that to question anything would ruin my chances at being loved by either parent.
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