It begins with a baby on a bus
I was born in Minot, ND on the Air Force Base. My real dad was stationed there, married to my real mother. He was 18 and she was 16 - super young and dumb.
The story goes that my father came home to find me alone in the apartment with nothing on but a dirty diaper and a high fever, I was 5 months old. Apparently my mother was next door in bed with his best friend...Many stories have circulated about what horrific acts transpired after that revelation, none of them were good.
Ultimately, he shipped me on a bus to live with his parents, giving up full legal rights to me. I arrived in Kansas City in the middle of the night with pneumonia and no provisions. My grandparents found themselves parents again. He left for Vietnam.
I was known as the "black sheep" of the family. I was Georgeanne and Mirl's daughter. Two fuck ups that had another fuck up, that was now going to fuck up my grandparents life.
Don't get me wrong, aside from the dark and dirty secrets, my grandparents were good to me, they provided well for me, and I loved them because they were all I had and I knew no different. They were FAR better than the alternative of growing up with the people who gave birth to me.
My grandmother was a school teacher who later became the librarian at a Junior High - in a different school district, thank God! And my grandfather, he was retired from something that he got a pension from. He was always doing different things. He had inherited a farm when his mother passed away (I was like 6 maybe, but I remember she died on the toilet, lol.)
Anyway, people would pay to come fish at the farm. He stocked the ponds with catfish from Arkansas and would clean and prep fish for various restaurants around. I was the ultimate tomboy. I ran around in cutoff shorts with no shirt. I had super short hair and everyone swore I was a boy. I was a hellova fisherman too.
I'll save the dirty truth of the farm for another post....
My grandmother had 2 grown daughters that were well into their own lives and in their 30's. My Aunt Barbara (Florida) despised me but my Aunt Judy (Michigan) was always nice to me. I had an Aunt Helen and Uncle Don and their 3 kids, my cousins, Rhonda, Terri and Debbie. I loved them. They were the family I wanted...and needed, but they didn't know that till much later in life.
The REAL Parents
Like so many others, my real dad came back from Vietnam all fucked in the head. He moved to Leavenworth, KS and got a job at the penitentiary there. He married some woman who had 5 kids of her own, one who was the SPITTING image of my real dad....it was never admitted to me though, but come on! She was Latino, her kids were all Latino and then there's the young boy who was a scrawny built twig with eyes exactly like me and my real dad....but whatever.
They'd all come over once a year on Christmas Eve for dinner and he'd play "Dad for a Day". He was a stranger, he wasn't my dad. But I'd wonder why he never took me with them. If he was my dad, why didn't he want me? Why did he want all those other kids and not me?
I'd hide in my closet (that was my safe zone) and cry about it every fucking year - on Christmas Eve....ugh. You know what else, I don't ever remember getting a present from him. Not once.
He's currently living in Florida, in some back wood, nothing town, I think, with a different wife who is legit psycho. We never speak. I'll have to do a separate post about that whole fucked up situation. Seriously, like graveyard curses and multiple personalities....it's quite a tale.
My real mother...wow, this one's good. How much time do we have? I'll try to condense it as much as I can.
So Georgeanne, eventually went under the alias of Connie, was 16 when she had me. She divorced my real dad and married multiple times and ultimately had 6 kids by 5 different men.
The funny thing is that we all grew up within 20 miles of each other and never fucking knew it.
I remember I met her one time when I was about 7. She came to the door one night and when I opened it she said she was my mother. She had a baby with her, my sister, Michelle. I don't remember anything else about that night and didn't see her again.
At one point, when i was about 12 we drove out to some shit-ass no-tell motel she was staying at in Independence, MO for me to meet her and she was so fucked up she couldn't even answer the door.
I finally met her, for real, when i was 18. After a long string of shit, my parents decided I should go live with her - a total stranger, in New Hampshire...they flew me out there and I was left standing in an airport not having a clue who I was looking for or if anyone would actually show up.
She was an alcoholic and a drug addict. A professional liar and had no basic respect for anything or anyone. She had two of my sisters living there, the only two that hadn't been taken away or given up. They were about 7 and 8 at the time and had been raised to steal everything they could get their hands on and run the prescription scams for her. They'd never had rules or boundaries of any kind, they were out of control. It was heartbreaking.
We ended up in jail together one time - that was one for the books. Got arrested with my real mother, lol. Stealing, of course. Not that I'd never been to jail before, but this time I actually hadn't done anything.
I recall one night, would have been in '91, sitting at the dinner table with mom and dad (grandparents). The TV was always on in the living room and they'd listen to the news while we ate. Anyway, they did this story about prescription scammers and I shot out of my seat and yelled that that was what my real mom was doing and sure as shit! By the time I got in there they were flashing her and her husbands pics on the screen! You know what, I called the tv station and tried to turn the bitch in lol.
I don't even know if she's alive currently. I went to a grocery store she was working at once and went through her line just to see if she'd recognize me. Nope...not even a glimmer.
Anyway - after all is said and done, I suppose I am glad I had the life I did. Maybe in my next post I'll talk a bit more about the reality of life with my grandparents. Maybe I should wait...we'll see.