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My family

Embrace Today By: K. Wilhelmina Floria

Tears of happiness shall fall,
listen close for your destination call.

A river of tranquility flows through life.

Ride out the eye of the storm, pass the strife.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

The heart of the 23 year relationship

A second posting for the day. My mood is a little better so here I am.  My HS friend called me, my brother-in-law called me.  I was scared at first when he called, but he wanted my opinion.  Boy did that make me feel good.  I got a comment from a luppie friend on FB telling me that I'm an inspiration. My brother-in-laws' niece, who is also my niece  by their marriage, shared some music with me on facebook and told me I was sunshine in others lives and her nephew's woman has lupus and she would like me to her, she thinks I could help her. My son called and he sounded disappointed that I wasn't coming, but he seemed to understand.  He said they will try to set up a visit for us here in the City.  I got my Writer's Digest magazine today and Greys' Anatomy is on tonight.  What simple pleasures to make me feel better. I wish I made arrangements to go to the the Lupus tour tonight.  Many of my twitter friends would be there, I hope they will be next week too.

I'll tell some more of my life story.  Far Rockaway was a nice place to live for me. I was in the project that wasn't dangerous. The one across the street they use to call Viet Nam. The kids use to blow the doors off with M80's and jump people at night. Not to mention is was full of crack heads and dealers. My side was cool. Yes in the winter is was cold, what they called brick. The wind whipped with specks of sand from the beach. In the summer there was always a cool breeze off the beach, which is where we spent most of our weekends. I was the kool aid mom remember.  I always had sandwiches, juice and chips on the beach. The kids in our building would follow us to the beach most of the time.  Mr. 23 would join us after his day of 'working', that's what he called his hustle.  I would often have a rash somewhere on my body and be extremely tired after.  But that what it was always like when I went to the beach. It wasn't unusual and I didn't complain, why should I? I was allergic to the sun, I got a rash. Yea I was tired too but I just thought jumping the waves wore me out. Thinking back now I was litterly drained and the next day I usually stayed in bed.  Father usually took good care of me, he would cook, clean and take care of the kids and me when I was tired.  Later he would expect sex and get pissed when I was still too tire to comply.

If we didn't go to the beach we went to Prospect Park in Brooklyn, to the movies. Some times we would go to work with father. He would sell his products, fill the car up with  his products and we would sit in the car waiting for him to come back with a few dollars, and we, hoping when he returned, it would be time to go home. Once and a while he use to park us by Red Hook projects and we would sit out there for like almost an hour.  He was there coping drugs, and getting a hit or two.

He tried real hard to make money and sometimes he did do good.  But he was always fighting that crack. I couldn't understand how it had him so controlled. Nothing I said would penetrate. I told him he wasn't god, that he may as well eat pork cause that crack was doing more damage. He was always a small man, after that crack he was smaller then a skeleton.  He would come home early in the morning and want to have sex. I didn't want him to touch me. We use to fight, one night he had me pinned to the floor and I picked him up with my legs and threw him across the room.  Back then I was like 150. If I came home from work 15 minutes late he would take me in the bathroom and check my panties to see if I had sperm in them. Questioning me why I was late, where was I.  It was the crack speaking.

Once I came home I was going up stairs, I never took the elevator I lived on the first floor, as I was walking up this crackhead from the 3rd floor was walking down.  She once offered to suck father off for a quarter. When I walked in, father was dancing in the living room, the music blasting, George Michael, Wham was probably playing, the house was clean perfectly. I had to go to the bathroom and sat on the toilet.  I could smell the faint smell of crack, when I looked down in the garbage there was a pipe, still warm  He told me it belonged to the woman from the 3rd floor.  He let her come in to use the bathroom.  He thought I was so stupid, why would she use our bathroom when she just lived two floors up. Why would she smoke her crack in my apartment. Come on.

I was isolated then also, I had a car and could go anytime I wanted to but I had the kids.  I didn't know fully leave them alone.  I took a second job, father was suppose to be there to watch the kids at night.  There were many nights I came home and they were alone.  There were many nights that they went to bed hungry because he didn't come home with money. Because I stupidly gave him my money to double. I use to steal from the petty cash at work, since I was in charge of it. Or cash an outstanding check.  The kids would miss days from school because I was too tired to get them ready in the morning. No matter how tired I was, or how much my hands ached I went to both jobs, trying to get my head above water while he smoked all my efforts away. 

Once there was a bad snow storm, I was on-call for my job.  I couldn't get coverage for the clients, some where bed bound and couldn't get out the bed to fix themselves something to eat, wash or go to the bathroom.  The beeper was ringing non-stop.  My nerves were shot. That Monday I was broken out all over my body from my scalp to the bottom of my feet, even the palms of my hands. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong and said it was my nerves, stress from the job.  A few weeks later I got a virus and they gave me antibiotics that made me sick.  I felt the drug crawling through my skin.  I broke out again all over the same way.  I didn't know what the drug was, so some years later it will happen again.

Fathers' friend the Man moved in with us.  He was a hustler also and Father kept talking about how much money he was making and he would help us out.  He gave me a few dollars, brought me a pack a cigarettes here and there and he would bring the kids bags of candy.  But he was my brother, known him as long as I've known father.  So he was welcome in our home.  The same as his brother.

Father and I were sex freaks and planned a threesome with his brother.  But it didn't happen the night we tried because they too high. The next night father wasn't having it. The brothers were close.  Brother was always with us to bring the new year in. The three of us would sit up getting high, talking and laughing.  I could always count on brother to take my side in any dispute father and I had. The nights we spent parting use to end up with the two of them arguing.  It would get to the point where Brother would say give me all my stuff I gave you. Loyal to Mr. 23 I would gather brothers' books  and the mirror and what ever else there was that he gave to us or left at our place.  Then they would go out side to physically fight each other.  Then come back bosom buddies.   They probably would go out to get high.

After while, brother hadn't been around much. Father kept telling me his brother was sick and he was dying, but wouldn't tell me what was wrong.  One Thanksgiving Brother was in his mothers' house, up in the bedroom in the dark,  father told me to go up and see him, Brother told me he had aids.  I asked him, so you're just going to lay up in this dark room and die. He got dress and came and stayed with us.  I was braggin how he stopped getting high  while he was sick and his wife took such good care of him.  Father and the man laughed at me. They said Brother and his wife were getting high up to the day Brother went into the hospital. Brother didn't know who we were in the hospital he was coming in and out of it.  Father ran to the mens' room and I could hear him crying.  He came out and we hugged while he shed the rest of his tears.

Father lost his brother, grandfather, aunts, uncles and  many friends while were together.  I lost my brother, mother, grandmother, aunts, uncles and friends also.  We supported each other and cried with each other over lost family.  This is the sad part of a long time relationship ending.  The memories that we shared privately are only remember alone now.

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