The best stories start somewhere right??? In a galaxy far far away, once upon a time blah blah blah.... Mine begins in Oklahoma... yeah that's right Oklahoma. Pretty much all my family is from Oklahoma. I lived in Ok. for about 8 years of my life, short but not uneventful. My mom and dad married, divorced, married again and divorced again. Mom tried to be a good single mom, I stayed with grandma alot, great grandma alot, and one uncle for about a year. Mom did the best she could to protect me from things, but, small towns aren't too good for that. I grew up hearing
" Oh, you're SoandSo's daughter? Well bless your heart" in southern/redneck talk that is not a blessing, that's pity... and fodder for the church gossips. My grandparents were pretty well known and popular people have popular problems... like my grandfather's affair, then the divorce; my mom being the "black sheep" of the family. What can i say she liked bad boys. So yeah i got a lot of pitying looks growing up in one place. But in the place where my dad's family lived it was different. yeah they all knew my dad's problem, but i wasn't my dad's problem so i was loved no matter what.
Church was an integral part of my first 8 years in Oklahoma. My great grandmother took me to First Baptist every sunday she could, and if i wasn't in town with her, my dad's mom took me to Church of Christ with her. I don't remember a whole lot about church back then. I do remember coffee nips from great grandma, and from the other grandma, i remember sleeping in the pew with my head on her lap... or my aunts lap. My most vivid memory of church didn't happen in either of those though. This one occured at the Methodist church in town. They were having a revival, great grandma decided we should go, cuz you can never have too much God or church. They showed a film about the end times. You know, the mark of the beast, the anti-christ... anyway.... the film focused on a group of youth who didn't want or rather wouldn't take the "mark" so they were hunted by the police. They were caught, a few gave in and were freed, but there was a few who still refused the mark, and they were sentenced to death. Not too bad for a young girl of like 7 to see right???? Just wait. How they were to die was by guillotine.... yeah Marie Antoinette's favorite toy LOL, I can hear the red queen now yelling OFF WITH HER HEAD. Ok ok back on topic.... the main girl; who was cute, sweet, innocent looking all american girl was the last to die. You see her being led to the guillotine, laid on it her head locked in... and then as the blade comes down it goes black. The preacher begins his invitation.... " Which life do you choose??? Jesus or that"... and he pointed to the screen. " if you want Jesus and heaven, come on down" well let's just say I ran to the front, tears streaming down my face, total fear in my heart and mind that I would loose my head if i didn't choose Jesus. Does that count??? I mean, salvation by coersion kinda right???? Well great grandma was thrilled and pretty darn proud of herself... and i was just glad i wasn't gonna loose my head.
My last year in Oklahoma, my mom married some DB. I wasn't too thrilled cuz i wanted her back with my dad... which i didn't know at the time wasn't gonna happen ever. I accepted it, cuz i had a pony :) But in hindsight, it wasn't worth it. Mom worked in a factory in another town, DB had his own welding shop in town where he made horse trailers. I was home alone alot. So it fell to me to do most of the chores. I woke up at like 4 or 5 a.m. to do the morning chores; feed the dog and my horse, check the incubator, and then get ready for school and catch the bus. After dinner i was to do dishes... but i wasn't allowed to stand on anything and i couldn't really reach... well my arms began to get raw from reachin in and out of the soapy water.... it got bad. My great grandma had a fit and went after DB, after that i could stand on a chair. Except now the dishes were inspected, if one dish was dirty, they all went back in the water to be washed again... the process could last for hours. Remember I was 7. One night i was feeling sick, like i had a cold... DB told my mom he'd take care of it and he made me a Hot Toddy.... whiskey, honey and lemon... heated and drank. I took one drink and i couldn't do it, it was horrible.... we sat there for what seemed like hours with him scowling at me sometimes yelling at me to drink it. Then it was cold, and he still was yelling at me to drink it... i refused. Mom finally spoke up and he reluctantly backed off and allowed me to go to bed. Finally because of my mom's hours at the factory and DB's welding shop wasn't a good place for kids... mom found me a babysitter for weekends, and mornings before school. Some of my memories of this time are a little foggy.... my mind just won't come clear for me.... this man was an older man... I don't know how my mom got the idea for me to stay with him, but she did and i did........ to make a long story short.... he abused me. And there my friends is when the first mask was cast for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment