You kids were around enough to know better.  That’s what fucking pisses me off.

     Yeah, what really happened, S.?   Why?  How long had she been drinking?  What shit was coming out of her mouth?  Oh, I’m sorry — you don’t wanna grow up like that?  Do you think anybody wanted that?  Do you think I wanted you to see that?  And WHO did WHAT after that?

     Yeah, sweets.  Wake the fuck up.

     Yeah, I threw her beer back in her face.  Not the glass, not the bottle, like dear ol’ dad.  No, the rest of the cup she put down on the counter — after she’d already covered my face with it — went back on her.  And you remember what happened that led up to that, and even still, I hugged her.  And then, Ms. S, you started crying like it was the worst thing in the world.   Because, well, some got on you, didn’t it, when she thrashed it on you? 

     But you still got what you wanted, huh?  More attention when you were afraid she’d leave? 

     Problem is, S., I’d already offered you could live with us wherever we were.  Like you did there … And your brother, J. … Did either of you ever ask or give me so much as a thank you for using me like you did?  Because — you weren’t kids anyway, were you? 
     But I damn sure love you like you were.  And I did my best to give you whatever you needed.   Hell, J. had a good job.  I only made half again as much as your mom… and you both treated me as a benefactor …
     Above and beyond what your dad ever did, mind you… He always expected something in return, didn’t he, because that’s why you came to live with me?

     “S. is the reason I’ll never…” she told me.

     So what was the reason for all the other shit that led up to that, S.?  Do you remember?  I told her — “Baby, I’m afraid you’re an alcoholic.”
     Looking for that escape … by any means …
     And what’d you say when I told her that, S.?
     ”Shut the fuck up, Mark!”
     But you knew I was right.  And you knew she was right, too.  Just like with London boy, S. … We wouldn’t tell you what to do, because you were over eighteen.  But yeah, we tried to discourage because we didn’t wanna see you in the same situation as your mom, trying to escape so badly that you’d fall into the same trap… With the same kind of asshole…

     So, yeah, I wanted to check on ya last night.

     “Hey, baby.”
     “Who is this?”
     “S.?  Is that you?”
     “Yeah, but why the fuck are you calling here?”
     “Because I think it’s time you all started telling the truth.  And just remember, S, I do love you.”
     “Fuck you motherfucker!  How dare you call this number!  I’ll call the law on you!”
     “Oh, baby girl, you go right ahead.”

     I attempted a similar phone call, much earlier, with J.  And, as usual, he threatened to put a bullet in my head.  Just like he did his own mother, leading to her freaking out so badly…. And he still hasn’t done it, of course.  As a matter of fact, he cowered — much like his father — when I walked to him and asked why he said such a thing.

     Conversation could help. 

     You all wanna keep lying to each other … You go right ahead.

     So why’d she have to call me up and tell me I was a grandfather back in October?  Or in January to tell me that she was coming home?  Or keep asking me to send her money?  She never would take it when I offered to bring it to her, though.
     You have to wonder why, huh?

     When you look in your own hearts and find a nasty, black mess… I’m pretty sure you know who made that.  And kids … It wasn’t me.  Nor her.
     You all just … let it happen.  Again.

     Because it was what you were used to.

     So how much truth do you want, kids?  Because in my book, you know quite too much on your own.  But for my part — Oh, the things I could show you. 
     You gotta remember, and wake up, that I wasn’t the blame for her problems.  She was already had them, and I tried to get her out the damn situation.  You all just needed a scapegoat, and I guess I seemed like a good one at the time.  Maybe J. and D. remember a lot of those problems from before — and I hope not so much.

     So, D, if you have any balls and any soul — you better raise that kid somewhere else.  I wanna see that grandkid grow up a lot better… And I wanna know it won’t grow up in that hellhole.
     You know what that means, D.   And you know it’s the dead-honest truth, too.

     Whether any of you like it or not, you very actively contributed to that state of things.  But I’d spare you — and condemn everyone around you — because you never had a sense of community.  All those people who kept saying they loved and cared never did a damn thing to stop what was going on, did they?
     I’m told I was the only one to ever try and make it stop.  I only wish I’d been stronger at the time.

     But I still love you.  I question why a lot, but I do.

     As for your mom…

     Goodbye, Baby.  I do love you, very much.  But I’m done.  I’ve had enough bullshit.  I didn’t give up in September… I just stopped fighting back for a change. 
     I look at the scar I got for that … every day … Oh, but you haven’t seen that yet, have you?  Funny thing … You missed all of that, and everything that preceeded it.

     Because, baby, if you’d loved me like you say when you call … you might’ve actually been here.

     It really is time you all started telling the truth for a change.

There is something about staying up all night.  I don’t know if it all the creativity that to keeps you up or the thoughts that run through your head.  In this case I would say it was a little of both.

While I was patiently waiting the 6:30 a.m. tic to toc on the clock, I was diligently working on a piece of design soon to be seen.  The tedious monotony of tutorials and code are such sweet company on an early Monday morning, after all code is poetry.  I also managed to finish building my handout for today’s Introductory Computer Class at the Halls Senior Center.  Not much else was going through my head at the time.

It all changed as I began to cook at the turn of six.  I began to reminisce how my Mammaw and Pappaw must have done the same things day in and day out as they prepared breakfast for all of the boys in the painting crew.  God I miss that breakfast… To this day I can’t make white gravy that is anywhere close to that.  Moreover, the main thing I miss of that is the camaraderie, that my quiet breakfasts, with my wife or couple of friends, just aren’t the same. The atmosphere just can’t be replicated. I have fond memories of eating my portion and part of my uncle’s within a period of two or so hours.  Those were the days… just waking up to food prepared to eat as soon as your feet hit the floor.

That reminder quickly moved to a scene in Sam’s Restaurant and Deli for more breakfast than the average human should eat in one sitting.  Again, it was more the camaraderie than the food although it is excellent as well.  Heck, Mark and I would order one of the specials our friend would most likely order the Western Omelet. We would drink out fair share of coffee and smoke. Yes, I said smoke. You see that was prior to the unrealistic and unforgiving anti-tobacco lobby ruined that pastime for those of us who have no wish to kill the ignorant people we encountered during a day.

So, it is with that I leave you to go puff on bowl of tobacco and reminisce something else positive.  After all around 1964 the surgeon general determined pipe smoker’s outlive non-smokers and are relatively innocent of causing lung cancer.

Seven days ago…

I miss you so much…

     Funerals tear me to bits, if for nothing else but the inevitable ranting and raving that always breaks out at “family” functions, so maybe it’s not such a big deal that nobody bothered to tell me that he was dying, much less already gone… But it bothers me, still.  Especially considering this is the second one I didn’t know about, and the fact that my phone number hasn’t changed in years…

     Sorry, Uncle.  I know that you hated having your picture taken.  But this is the way I always remember you…  Much the same way I remember your father… And I hope the others do, too.

     “I love you, but…”

     That is one phrase that I can hear, and I immediately turn off — It’s a bullshit phrase, which most always precedes some other ridiculous bullshit.  What it means is, “I love you, but if you don’t do what I say, I won’t.”  See?  Bullshit.
     I hear couples say to each other, and it annoys me as they attempt to garner control of one another.  I hear parents say it to their children all the time, and it pisses me off to no end, thanks, in no small part, to the way I was raised.

     And when I hear children say it to their parents, it pisses me off even more.  I could never have healthy children, so I wasn’t able to have a family.  But one thing is for damn sure:  if I had, and they ever said, “I love you, but…” to me, I’d smack the shit out of them and ground them until they were eighteen.  They’d probably hate me for it, but they’d be expected to get the fuck out and start running their own lives at that point, too.  After I’d spent most of my life raising them and seeing to their every need, why should I have to continue when they were adults and hated me, anyway?

     Because you either Love, or you don’t.

     There are no conditions.

     And anyone who accepts a Love like that is surely a damn fool.