Friends Part 2

     I want to say I was 12 when I got to Utah. They were on a year round school schedule so there were some difficulties getting registered. I ended up missing the first three weeks of school so I got to spend a little time with my dad... My dad was the reason I went out there. As much as I wanted to get away from Paul's abuse, I wanted my dad. My older brother and I had been going to Utah for summer vacation since I was 7. It gave my mom a chance to get things together at the house and it gave dad a chance to see us. Most of the time we just were with our grandparents. We always visited family or museums. We also would get to go to the water park by their place once a summer. It was a few days in the two months we were out there we would get to spend with our dad. He liked computers and guitars and those were both topics that my older brother was more interested in. It was pretty common for me to feel left out of conversations with my dad. When he would stop and listen to me I could see that he was doing it just to humor me. I wanted him to be interested in what I was saying or in the things I liked. I didn't want to have to like what he liked to get his attention. I still wish he would reach out to talk to me.

     When I got to my dad's place he was living with his girlfriend and her two kids. The boy Tim was three years older and the girl Tina was two years older. Tina was cute. The last summer we had been out there we had met them before. It was nice to be there on my own since my older brother and Tina had "messed around" and acted like they were too cool to hang out with me during the summer. The first couple days Tina and I talked and she got to know me. I liked sports bikes and being a good man. When I was this age really all I thought about being when I grew up was a good husband and father. Tina grew up with out her dad in the picture so my ideals sounded great to her. She often told me how sweet I was.

     There were 2 guest bedrooms and a shower in the basement. Everyone was up on the main floor. I liked having my own space in the basement it was the first time I had my own room. Tim would have me go out and go on bike rides with him. It usually was just going to his friends place and then he would tell me to head home. It was not uncommon for me to get lost and I would ride until I found a street I recognized. There were a few times where he was smoking pot and wanted me to partake. I always had to argue with him because I didn't want anything to do with drugs.

     One Friday night Tina was having a friend of hers stay the night. There was a tv and video game system in the other bedroom downstairs. I had been playing F-Zero and was told I had to let the girl have that bedroom, I was to leave them alone. I went in to my room and laid down. A few hours later Tina climbed into bed with me. She kissed me for a little bit then asked what I thought of her friend. I said "I don't know" worrying I was being set up for some kind of trap after kissing a little more She left to the other room and came back with her friend. That is when I lost my virginity. After that Tina started coming into my room about every other night. There were a couple more times where she had friends stay the night and they would always end up in my room. At the time I was amazed they liked me. This was the first sexual experience I had wanted to be involved in. Growing up I would get called fag or faggot, queer, homo not because I was gay just because those were the insults that were used most prevalently. I had wondered if being molested as a child would skew my sexuality. Even though I knew this was wrong. It made me think being molested didn't ruin me. I was still enough of a man for someone to like, to love. I was man enough for a few girls. None of them ever talked to me at school. I was younger than they were. I understood that I wasn't cool enough for them at school but when it was all of us at the house the other girls could have gone to Tim's room. He was older and cooler than I was... but they didn't. I don't know exactly what that meant but it meant enough for me.

     One day at school an older boy came over to me at lunch and sat down with me. It turned out he was sitting behind Tina in a class where she was talking with the two girls she had brought over to stay the night. At first he didn't catch that our parents were dating, we are not brother and sister. He went from being disgusted to impressed. Word got around to a few people at the school and word got to Tina's mom. She was down in my room when I got home and she asked me what happened. I told her everything and she was surprisingly understanding. I called my mom and told her I needed to get out of there. My mom had a friend that helped her get the ticket to fly me back. It was made known to several people in my family that that had happened. It is one of those things you just never talk about.

     When I got home my mom had moved out to Long Lake. I wanted to stay at the same middle school I had been at with Sam. Sam lent me her dad's bike so I could ride the 8 miles to school. I made the first month of school then it started raining. There were a few days I started for school and I was so wet by the time I got halfway there I just went home. Then I got in the habit of missing school. My mom wasn't sure what to do with me so she sent me to live with her mom. The same woman that broke a fireplace poker over my mom's back. She sent me there. She knew I needed more structure. I had been running around on my bike for years. I knew how to work, I just avoided it. My grandma Murphy and her husband owned a motel in Long Beach, WA. I was told I would have to help them clean rooms to pay for my room. It was said jokingly but I knew there was truth to it.

Friends part 1

     Growing up it seemed we moved about every three years. That made making life long friends an impossible task. Which I was ok with at first. When I was in kindergarten. There was a girl that followed me everywhere. Her name was Rose. If I was playing with a truck on the floor she would wrap her arms around me and follow wherever I went. At lunch she would sit next to me and lean on me as she ate. She was crazy about me. It drove me nuts. Her mom would talk to my mom about how all she talks about is me and that they should try to keep us in the same classes. I was 5 and had been for all of a month. I honestly don't know what she liked. She didn't talk to me. She would stare at me or try to hug me or hold my hand. The teacher thought it was cute so she would let Rose go at it. If I ever pushed her away or ran from her and made her cry I would get in trouble. At first it was a time out in the corner. Then it turned into spankings. One day it was pretty bad. I told my mom while we were riding the city bus home that I wanted to stand on the bus because it hurt.-

(Fun side note: The last time I got a time out was in the 8th grade and is the longest time out I ever had. It was for the duration of the movie The Land before Time. We had been doing work earlier in the day and The Teacher was standing at the desk of the female student in front of me. He was helping her with something and was leaning over her desk. I would guess with where he was standing and what she was wearing he had direct line of sight down her shirt. He had been standing there for a few minutes when I noticed he was blatantly aroused. I then asked him in a loud voice "Why do you have a boner?" He turned red, turned on a movie and I stood in the corner for an hour and a half.)

- My mom went in and talked to the principal. He argued that I was not well behaved and shouldn't push girls. My mom came in on a regular basis after that and kept her off me when she was there. I ended up getting held back because I was having some issues with a few letters which later turned out to be dyslexia. I think they may have taken into account my age. My birthday is the 7th of August and the cut off is August 31st. I don't know if I would say Rose was a friend but she was a person who was in my life if I wanted it or not.

     Robbie was in the second grade with me. He also lived in the same apartments. We would ride bikes around the apartments together, build jumps, throw the football or baseball, climb trees, build forts, run to the corner store and so on. He had a younger sister that had to tag along sometimes. She was nice enough but she was a girl and about 2 years younger. He was my first best friend and it stayed that way until about 4th grade. He started trying to distance himself at school and didn't like other kids knowing he was my friend. One day we were playing at his house. It was raining so we couldn't be outside. Robbie asked if I wanted to play doctor and I told him no but he insisted and we went up to his sisters room and asked her if she wanted to play. She said yes and got up on her bed under the sheet and took her pants off. Robbie said he would go first and got under the sheet. I was not cool with this and I went to his mom and told her what was going on. Robbie got super pissed at me and said he didn't want to be my friend anymore. I headed home. The next day I was out climbing on the playground at the complex when Robbie came out with a baseball bat. He told me he wanted to play baseball. I said I would go get my glove and he said no we are just pretending. He asked if I would play catcher and I said ok. He took the bat and hit me in the head with it. It was kind of half hearted. (Thankfully) He was probably worried about really hurting me. I on the other hand just got hit in the head with a bat so I stood up, grabbed is head and stuck it between my knees, and picked him up. I dropped to my knees slamming his head into the ground, also known as a pile driver.

     He knew I was bigger than him and in a fair fight I would win. He found out in an unfair fight, I still win. We had classes together until the 5th grade. In sports I always made a point to play against him and be better than him. I think this is where my intense competitive side comes from. If I play a game I can remember it is a game but when it comes to contests of skill or sport the best person wins and I have to do my best. We will get into sports another day though.

     In school I always talked with everyone. I didn't think about popularity until middle school. I just kind of figured you were nice to everyone. After Robbie I didn't have another friend I trusted for a few years. There were some family friends and cousins we would see on occasion but for the most part at home I was running around on my own. We moved out to Lacey and we lived by a golf course there. The middle school had 6th, 7th, and 8th grade. In the 6th grade I was one of the tallest kids in the school. There was this girl Sam that lived in the neighborhood behind where the apartments were. Sam was a self proclaimed tomboy. She liked to play with the boys. During lunch she could often be found in the gym playing basketball. That was where we got to know each other. I thought it was cool that she wanted to be that good. When we got to talking I found out she lived two blocks from me and for the next two years we were inseparable. She had me go to her grandma's with her for the weekend. Sam didn't want to hang out with her brother alone all weekend. Her cousin surprised her and I was worried I was going to end up the third wheel. She took me aside and told me how cool her cousin was and how out of my league she was. "She dates high school boys." I turned on the charm because I could see a challenge when one was presented to me. Sam's cousin snuck into the room I was in that night and we made out for a few hours. The next day when I told Sam, I thought she would be impressed...that was not the case. She didn't talk to me all of Sunday or on the way home. Monday at school she wrote me a note saying she was sorry and she did not want to lose me as a friend. I told her girls that pretty never paid attention to me before. I apologized for not knowing better.

     Things with my stepdad were not good in the home and at the end of the school year I headed out to Utah to try and live with my dad and his new girlfriend. I called Sam every now and then. We wrote back and forth about twice a month the whole 2 months I was out in Utah...

I will explain why I was only out in Utah for 2 months next time in Friends part 2.

9. Happy Birthday Honey.

     Paul's parents lived in the same small town we did. They had us over for the holidays and were usually very pleasant. I remember one time my older brother Edmond and I were downstairs at their house playing ping pong. It was cool getting to go there and play on their table. We barely had a table for eating on, they had one just for a game. Paul's dad came down the stairs and looked at my older brother Edmond and I asking. "Would you guys like to plant your own garden?" We both said "sure."  He walked through the room to his office and was gone for a while. Edmond and I thought the question was odd but we were open to the idea of one day planting our own garden. About 15 minutes later Paul's dad came back in yelling at us that he had the stuff ready for us to do the garden and he was waiting for us. Edmond and I looked at each other confused about what he meant. We had thought it was a rhetorical question not an offer to do some gardening right now. We followed him out back where their garden was and he had us start working on it. He tried to sell us the idea that we were going to get some rhubarb crisp for helping plant the garden. That us getting to eat some of the food and putting our work into this garden would make it our garden. It was not uncommon for my mom to lend us to friends of hers that were moving or needed fire wood cut. Sometimes we would get 5 bucks for the full days work. We knew they just wanted us to do their work for them, even if they didn't put it so bluntly. I was a little insulted that he thought that would work on me. I wasn't surprised. This was the guy who promised to teach me to fly fish, then when we got out there he said we had some trees to plant first and when the work was done I would get to fish. I planted pine trees for 6 hours before it got too dark and we had to head home without fishing. That happened three times before I ever got to fish. He had started his own lumber business with his own last name on it. I knew he was a hard worker and wanted to teach me structure and discipline. The problem was, working for free is dumb and that is no way to make a living. I knew that at 11.

      Before my mom knew about Paul being abusive there were problems in their relationship. Money was always tight and Paul was never able to keep a job. He was a truck driver and from what I heard he was bad for trucks. He would take off for days at a time to cool off. Recently while discussing the abuse with Edmond he told me about Paul and mom going in their room and locking the door. Then we would hear mom saying "no" and "stop," then hear her crying. I had not remembered this. It is strange how well I pushed that out of my mind. As soon as Edmond started talking about it I could hear my mom's voice and remembered it clearly. My mom got pregnant with Paul's second child. My mom wasn't taking care of herself like she should and was having issues with her gestational diabetes. She had no energy and was resting or gone most the time. So, while my mom was pregnant we were free range kids. I was trying to stay out of the house to avoid the abuse. Edmond was learning to play guitar or playing video games in his room. Alex and Rich Were either watching cartoons or playing in the back yard, probably with the burn barrel. Alex liked to play with fire. I know he set at least one bed on fire.

     December 26, 1992 my little brother was born. You could feel something in the air, life was just charged. We went to Shelton for New Year's and to show the baby to the grandparents. We also got to go over to some family friend's house. We went home late that night. Mom still seemed wiped out the next day and stayed in bed. We had all helped taking care of the younger brothers. I got a bottle for the baby around 10p.m. Early the next morning my little brother breathed out and just didn't breathe back in. He died 8 hours shy of a week old. He passed away from S.I.D.S. My older brother called 911 because of the baby, but mom was unresponsive also. I don't know if Paul was gone for work or if he was just gone but he was not there. Instead, we as kids were trying to deal with the situation. When the paramedics showed up they were trying to get my mom to wake up. They said her blood sugar was off and they needed to take her to the ER. So the paramedics left Edmond, Alex, Rich and I with the baby while they took mom to the hospital. Another ambulance was sent out. Edmond was 15 and to deal with that like he did was impressive. He did have lots of practice at dealing with bad situations. Before mom and Paul were married, mom went out one Friday night and we were being loud so the neighbor called the cops. When the cops showed up at 3a.m. Alex was crying and with no mom to be found we went to a foster home for a week. They had goats and cots for us to sleep on. We kind of figured that was going to happen again since Paul was not there. Edmond kept an eye on us that night and mom was home the next day. For the next few nights I woke up thinking I had heard crying and would go make a bottle and put it in the crib. I am not sure if I was thinking about it and dreaming about it or if it was my mind trying to deal with the stress.

(My brother & my wife's grandma both passed away on January 2, 1992. That is also her birthday.)

     Most of my mom's friends were from AA so I can't tell you who they are... There were several of her close friends that were Native American. My mom always loved spiritual things. She reached out to those friends and invited everyone to the funeral. It was an open casket and people started putting feathers and dream catchers in with the baby. It was a bit odd to me since we had been raised "holiday attending" Christian but I knew mom loved the support. It was nice to see people cared.
    

8. Artie chokes two for a dollar.

     My mom and Paul were in AA. They would go to meetings and be gone anywhere from a couple hours to 6. On one of these nights we had artichokes for dinner and my mom asked if I could heat one up for my younger brother Alex. I put the butter in a pan and put it on the stove to melt for dipping. I want to say I was 10 at the time, I could have been 11. We both had a bowl of cereal while we waited for everything to heat up. Alex and I sat in the living room watching M.A.S.H. When I was done with my cereal I asked Alex to take my bowl out to the kitchen. We sat and watched the rest of the episode. After the show I went to the bathroom and while I was in there Paul and my mom got home. Paul went into the kitchen where there was a pan boiling with a bowl sitting on top of it. Alex had set the bowl on top of the butter pan. When Paul lifted the bowl off the pan it combusted. Paul being the genius he was took the pan to the sink and turned the water on full blast. My mom saw what he was doing and she grabbed the fire extinguisher and sprayed the pan just as the water went on. I was in the living room. I saw the flames rolling across the ceiling. The front door was still open from them walking in. The flames traveled from the sink up along the ceiling through the dining room across the living room and out the front door. It was just a 5 second flash but it left lines all along the ceiling. My mom probably saved Paul's life. The butter splattered from the water and got his hand really bad. There were also some burns on his neck and face. I was sure I was going to get it pretty bad for this. I was worried if he was ok and I wanted to tell what happened but I needed to get away.

     I went to bed that night while Paul was still at the hospital. When I woke up the next morning I got dressed and left the house as fast as I could. I rode my bike up to the park. I played for a few hours mostly on the swings. The swing had a hard blue plastic seat. It was fun to stand on the seat and swing standing up. I would jump out of the seat when I was sitting down trying to see how much distance I could get. There were a few trails around that had jumps. I would ride in circles around the neighborhood or I would ride to the school looking for someone to play with. I had gotten good at staying away from the house. I tried to avoid the main roads. I wanted to give Paul some time to calm down. I avoided him for a few days. When I saw him at the house I made sure to stay in whatever room my mom was in or I stayed away from him. I had a fear of being alone with him.

     He and my mom were going to a meeting and told me to be home at 6. I took off on my bike and went to the park to keep an eye out for them. Around 6:30 I saw our baby blue Ford LTD drive past and mom wasn't in the car. It was not too uncommon for mom to stay out with friends from AA. I stayed a block from the house and Paul came back out of the house. He was looking for me. I turned and headed down the road but he saw me. He jumped in the car and came flying down the road after me. All I could think of was Gus. I thought he was going to hit me with the car the way he did my dog. He pulled up ahead of me and jumped out of the car and stopped me. The way he came rushing up made me tense up in preparation of getting hit. He saw how afraid I was and stopped about a foot away. His demeanor changed. He told me my mom wanted him to pick me up, we were going to go out to dinner. His left hand, nose and forehead were bandaged with gauze. He told me to leave my bike there we would pick it up when we got back so I put it on the other side of the ditch in the bushes. When I was crossing back across the ditch he asked me why I set the fire. I told him I was heating up the butter and Alex put the bowl on top of it. I was opening the door to the car as I answered. Paul punched me in the back of my head with his good hand and I fell against the car. Paul started yelling at me not to try and put the blame on Alex. He started kicking me and stomping on my legs. I started crying and he stopped. He had been steadying himself with his right hand on the open door as he kicked me, when he stopped he slammed the door on me. He went and got in the car and headed back to the house. I got my bike and headed home.

     When I got home I got ready for dinner and went and sat in the car. Paul didn't say another word to me that night. The next day my elbow was swollen and had some bruising. I told my mom I fell skateboarding in the garage. It was something we all did, we all lied about things and covered them up so mom could be happy. We remember how bad she got when my dad left. She took me to the hospital and at the hospital when the doctor asked how it had happened I told him. My mom just looked at me. The doctor had me lift my shirt and there were bruises all across my back and on my legs. The doctor turned to look at my mom and she kind of shrugged, after an awkward pause she said "Oh... Leonard, I am so sorry I had no idea." The doctor shook his head and walked out of the room. My mom followed him and stopped him in the hall to talk. He laid into her pretty good. I heard him ask how she could not know. She convinced the doctor this was the first time and that she was going to leave Paul. The doctor let us all go home but he did report it to the police. After that the state was much more involved in our lives. We had been to foster homes a couple times but now there were monthly check ups. It seems like that should have been a good thing that helped... It wasn't.

7. Alone in the garage.

It was not a big surprise to come home to an empty house. There was almost always a way to get into the house. Worst case you have to hang out in the garage. I remember one time I got off the bus coming home from school and the house was all locked up. It started poring rain and I had not brought a coat to school. I was 11 at the time. The garage door was broken and I could squeeze under the gap from the bent track. I needed to change my clothes. I went through the old clothes we had in the garage and found an old dress shirt from my older brother and some purple sweat pants of my mom's. It was the first of the month so I knew they went to Olympia to do shopping. It was 3:00 when I got home. I was hungry then. I wasn't what you would call responsible. I loved playing basketball. I would often skip eating lunch so I could head out to the playground. There was a 6ft rim so we played knock out from the far end of the shed. The trick was to throw it off the brick wall behind the basket run up and dunk it. If you went for the shot you could make it but you were more likely to hit the rim and shoot out into the playground. I started playing this game when I was 7. When I started dunking I would run up, step off the brick wall to jump up, and dunk. It usually was no big deal to miss lunch even if I hadn't had breakfast...which I hadn't because I woke up late for school. (Very common occurrence.) Today though I was stuck in the garage. I was still a bit cold and wanted to see what was in the attic. I climbed the 2x4's nailed to the garage wall and lifted up the wood board that covered the entrance. I found some old curtains, a few pieces of rope, and some old stuff that had been our dad's. After crawling around up there for about a half hour I took the rope and tied it to my waist then tied it to the rafters. I climbed about half way back down and put some weight on the rope. I had made enough rope swings that I knew it was solid. I jumped out from the wall almost in a belly flop pose. I went out and hit the end of the rope. My head dropped and my feet went straight up in the air. I was now dangling upside down from a rope tied to the rafters. My hands could barely touch the floor and I kept bumping into the wall whenever I tried to right myself. It was probably only a couple minutes but it felt like 30. I finally got my hand on one of the 2x4's and was able to pull my head up. I got rope burns all around my ribs and waist, which made the hunger seem that much worse. I grabbed the curtains and wrapped up on top of a pile of dirty towels to get something between me and the cement floor. It only took a second on the pile to pick up the strong scent of cat pee and I was laying in it. Honestly, I was kind of used to the smell. An hour or so later Paul, my mom, and my brothers all got home with a trunk full of groceries. My mom made me a peanut butter and jelly to hold me over for dinner. It was 8:30 when they got home we had dinner at 9. I don't remember what dinner was but I remember the peanut butter and jelly... My mom made the best pb&j's.

6. Get the turkey leg.

When I was 9 we lived in a sub division in Shelton that had a creek running through it. We would swim in it in the summer. Where it went under the road there were two large culverts. the one on the right had a bee's nest in it and usually more crawdads.  I think that may have been due to less kids playing over there. Money was tight. Paul would drive my mom to the food bank so we could get food for the month and he would sit in the car and wait. So I would come along to help carry boxes out to the car. I remember them giving us the option of a turkey leg or a little ham loaf. We had 4 or 5 of the little hams in the freezer and so mom went with the turkey leg. I joked around that maybe my dog spike could have the bone after we ate it. Spike was a black lab mix that had been an abandoned dog when he was a puppy. It wasn't the more modern style of going to the pound and saving a dog from the needle. He just roamed our neighborhood and you could tell he wasn't being fed. He was a great dog and crazy smart if we left him in the house while we were gone he would open the front door and let himself out. That is with a round knob not the lever handle style. Granted his manners were lacking he always just left the door open. One day spike and I were playing down at the creek when he started chasing crawdads and I noticed there where a ton. I ran home to try and figure a way to trap them. I knew I needed to keep them alive until I got them home so I grabbed a bucket. I also knew I needed bait so I grabbed the turkey leg out of the freezer. I ran the two blocks back down to the creek and went over by the right culvert. I put some water in the bucket and sat down in the water. I sat there holding the turkey leg in the water. Slowly from all around me crawdads started coming out of their hiding places. I would wait until I got a few on the leg then I would pick it up over the bucket and shake them off. After an hour or so I had around 60 and most of a turkey leg that I refroze to use again next time. I enjoyed getting to put dinner on the table. Getting to play in the woods and swim in the creek was a big part of my youth. It was where I went to get away. I often made forts because I wanted somewhere safe to go. I wanted my own space.

When I was 11 Paul was coming to pick me up from school. He told me he wanted to bring Spike to pick me up and he stopped on the side of the road because Spike was acting like he had to pee. Spike took off and would not get back in the car. I am not sure if that is true I just know Spike was the best dog ever. My mom felt bad so she talked to some friends to try and find me a dog. She found a dog that was full blooded and already well trained that some people were trying to get rid of due to a move. She went and picked him up while I was at school. He was a cocker spaniel. He didn't like to play fetch and he looked like a girls dog. I was not a big fan of him but it was better than nothing. I didn't take him out with me at first because I kept having to call him if he ran off and he wasn't trained like Spike was. I took him down to the creek because I wanted to swim and maybe I could work on fetch with him. I named him Gus to have a boys name. I guess at the time that was the manliest name I could think of. Gus jumped in the water and swam like crazy. He loved the water and was really fun to play with. We spent the next 4 days swimming in the creek. He was getting to be a good dog. A few days later I was walking home from the creek with Gus. Paul was driving home. He saw us walking and whistled to say hi... (at lest that's what he said). Gus ran out into the road in front of the car and Paul ran him over in front of me. They got me another dog and they named him Toby. He was a beautiful dog. He was a husky, lab, St. Bernard mix. I asked for them to take him back. I didn't want another dog to die.

5. Don't hit.

After my dad left my Mom followed some friend of hers to Shelton. My mom wanted to meet a guy so she started going out to the bars on Friday nights, sometimes Saturdays too. She started dating a guy named Paul. He had served in the military and was working on becoming a truck driver. Money had been an issue with our family. We lived off food stamps and some help from family and friends. So mom was excited to have a man in her life that would support the family. They got married soon after. Paul wanted us to be disciplined. He would get frustrated when I fought with my brothers or didn't do something the first time he asked. It started out with jabs, he would take two fingers and while he would be telling us to be quiet or go outside he would strike two or three times on my sternum or my side. The longer he and my mom were together the more comfortable he got hitting me. Jabs became arm locks or back hands. Paul was sneaky about the abuse. He knew my mom had been beaten as a child and that she would not put up with it. I also think my mom was stupid about it. She would often come into the room while I was on the floor crying and she would ask what happened and he would say "oh nothing" and that was enough of an answer for her. My mom got very depressed when my dad left and her boys all saw that. So we didn't say anything to her about it. We didn't want it to be our fault if he left.

My mom only ever hit me twice in her life once was a spank when I was around six. The other was when I was fourteen, but to be fair she thought I was a home intruder. (I was coming home late and she didn't know I was out.) I often keep small bits of my sanity by looking at her life and thinking to myself, well at least I didn't have it that bad. My mom's parents separated when she was young. Her Dad took off and she was left with her mom. Her mom who at one point in time broke a fire place poker over my mom's back and threw a coffee cup at my mom's face. My mom lived the rest of her life with a piece of glass embedded just under her eye. My mom wanted to escape the abuse and she asked her dad if she could come live with him and they agreed it was best to wait until the end of the school year. She waited 3 months, then two weeks from the end of the school year he took his own life. Where I am standing now I see the parallels in my life but I know it does not control my future. I am my actions, not the mistakes of my parents or abusers.

4. I want to ride my bike

     After being kidnapped my parents decided it was best to move. We moved to apartments in Queen Anne. I was around 3 when I got my big wheel. I loved cruising on that thing so much so that for the next Christmas my parents got me a bike. I am fairly sure it was a huffy but that was back in 84 so I don't recall 100%. I wanted to be outside constantly. I rode my bike with the training wheels on it for about a week. My dad was a pizza delivery driver for domino's on the corner. He would work the night shift which meant he slept a lot during the days. I was following the older kids on my bike and I was doing a good job keeping up but they gave me crap about my training wheels. I asked my dad several times to take the training wheels off but he was either heading out the door or just about to lay down. So I took a hammer to the training wheels and bent them up so I could ride like the big kids. Our apartments had a steep driveway coming in off the street at a pretty steep incline. My older brother and I had both skinned ourselves pretty good trying to tame that hill on our dad's banana board. I lined up at the top of the and pushed off to start down the hill. The first time I started right off the edge of the sidewalk and as I started down the training wheel caught and flipped me off the side. I got up picked my bike back up and tried again. this time with enough clearance to not hit my training wheels. I flew down the hill almost to the end of the apartments driveway and I didn't crash. I took the bike back up to the top again and this time I pedaled on the way down and I was able to keep going. I had a few bumps and falls but if I was outside I was on my bike. I loved the freedom to be able to go where I wanted on my bike and there was one person I wanted to be with, my dad. I started going down to the garage at night and taking my bike out so I could go look for my dad. I would ride the streets around Domino's hoping my dad would see me and pick me up. Sometimes when he did I would get to stay in the car and sleep while he did deliveries sometimes he would take me home. I always got in trouble. I didn't care about getting in trouble. If that was the price of getting to see him so be it. My mom was not too happy with me but she understood I wanted my dad.

      It was a couple years later my dad moved to his Sister's house and my parents got a divorce. My Grandparents in Utah would have us out for the summer. They took us to museums we hiked Timpanogos cave every summer. We spent most the time with our grandparents. My grandma cooks like a grandma should and my grandpa is the kindest hardest working bad ass I have ever known. My dad lived with them for a few years and we would get to see him from time to time but he never really connected with me. My older brother Edmond played guitar like dad did, he liked sci-fi like dad did, he liked computers like dad did. I wanted to play outside. I never understood how he got to be the way he was. as an adult I can go to Utah and see family and he will try to make himself unavailable. I wish I understood why he wants nothing to do with me. His parents are awesome. His upbringing was wholesome he went to church. Not that that makes you a good person but I am guessing they didn't teach him to act like he has. The one thing He really instilled in me is how shitty it is to grow up with a dad who doesn't care about you. My family and I often talk about how people want better for their kids than what their parents did for them. My joke is my dad cared so much he made that easy for me. Being a dad is the one thing I new I wanted to be when I grew up. I am proud of my little girl and I tell her often.

3. Being taken

     When I was 3 we lived in Seattle in a cul de sac with a playground in the middle. My mom and I were outside. I was playing on the playground and my mom told me it was time to come in for lunch. I argued and threw a fit so she said she would keep an eye on me from the window while she made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Shortly after she went in I was approached by a teenager who said he had to take me to school with him. I told him I had to stay at the park and I yelled for my mom but he dragged me down the street.

     I don't remember much visually but I remember the ring on his right hand it was a pewter skull. He hit me with it when I bit and kicked him trying to free myself. I also remember the feeling of being pulled, taken away, how angry it made me to be powerless. He took me to his teacher and told the teacher I was his nephew. I was wearing a blue knit sweater that was covering / snagged on my id bracelet. I tried to pull my sleeve up. I fought with it the whole time I was in the room with him. I remember thinking if I could show the teacher I wasn't who he said I was the teacher would know something was wrong but I was unable to get my id bracelet out. He took me out by the baseball field between the dugout and the blackberry bushes that lined the fence. He touched me and tried to force me to touch him. After a few minutes he told me if I told anyone he would kill my parents and then he left me there. The school was a little over 2 miles from our home. To this day I have no idea how I knew how to get home. My mom was worried when I got there and I told her what happened. My dad was way bigger than that guy and I knew there was no way that guy could kill my parents. The police came by the house and with what I told them they were able to go to the school check with the teachers and find who the boy was. He lived about 5 houses down the street. My mom took me to the hospital to do tests that the police asked for. When I got home that night I went to bed at 8. I slept for 16 hours before my mom woke me up to eat some food and go to the bathroom. I went right back to sleep and got up the next day like nothing happened.

     I remember sitting in the court room on my mom's lap having the judge ask me questions about what I got for Christmas (a chicken gun was my answer, it was a laser gun that had three sounds: laser beam, chicken and fart.) While I did speak well for a three year old they decided it was better for me not to testify. He was convicted. I remember the black man that came over to see me after the trail. He was our neighbor. When I got a little older my mom told me he was a Black Panther and he had some people on the inside take care of my attacker. My mom would lie to me about that but I like to think she didn't.  I did group counseling with other kids my age for a while but they weren't any fun. I seemed to heal quick. I didn't want to think about the stuff that was done to me. People always told me it wasn't my fault which kind of bugged me. I never thought it was. This is one of those things that was always kind of there. It was something that happened but not who I was. This is not a story I have shared with many people and it is not what I want to be known for but I want to help those who have been through similar abuse.

2. Flying to Alaska that night.

10/11/14- I was a little nervous that I hadn't heard from my mom in a few days and she is supposed to be flying down the next week. I get a call from some lady named Gin she tells me my mom is in the hospital and that she will take care of everything. I told her that I was on my way and I will take care of my mom and she replies "no all her stuff. I will take care of that for you, it is all junk". It hits me why do I have no clue who this lady is. She is not a friend my mom has talked to me about. I tell her to leave it alone or I will be talking with the police... She hangs up. My mom has a caregiver but I can't get a hold of him. I am not sure how sick my mom is and I can't trust the people I am talking too on the phone. I haven't lived in Alaska since 2001 but I have a few very good connections up there I can trust. When I had heard my mom had cancer it was through a friend of mine that saw her at chemo. My friend Eleanor was there because she was dealing with cancer herself. I called Eleanor to see if she could go to the hospital and check on my mom. Eleanor always kind of kept an eye on my mom. She would see her at Wal-Mart and go give her a hug for me. I felt bad for asking my friend with stage 4 ovarian cancer to go check how my mom was. Asking her to look at what she could be facing but she went without hesitation. She called me and said I needed to get there. I got on facebook to tell friends of my mom's how she was doing and started making plans to fly up. I got a call from my brother in-law's best friend Matt. Matt asked if I was going up to Alaska to see my mom. I told him I was working it out now and I plan to leave in the next couple days. Matt asked if we could come over. I brought my wife and daughter over and they asked me if they could help get us to Alaska. They just sold there house and his wife had just lost a grandparent to cancer and they wanted to do something to help. They flew my wife, daughter and I to Alaska that night. (I have permanent room in my heart for Matt and Peri they did something for me I will never be able to repay.) We ran home grabbed our bags and headed to the airport.

We got into Anchorage around 1am. I have a younger brother Bryan that I had not seen in 12 years who met us at the airport. (We were separated in states custody.) I fill Bryan in on what is going on and he say he got a call from Gin also... I got a room and we stayed in Anchorage that night there were no rental places open when we landed. The next morning I picked up a rental car and Bryan and we headed down to the peninsula. It was nice to get to catch up with my little brother it was just rough that this is how it was happening. When we got to the hospital the doctors wanted to speak with me. Since my mom did not have any legal organization on how she wanted this situation dealt with it was left up to the 5 sons. None of which were in her custody past the age of 14 and 3 of them were gone before 8. The doctor told me she has had a couple people trying to get medical updates and asked if I wanted to release that information. I told them to direct anyone to me. Several of my brothers were not comfortable making any decisions that came to mom because they felt they did not know her so they all told the hospital to have me take care of any decisions that needed to be made. I was grateful that my brothers trusted me with that and we were able to speed up things getting done to take care of my mom.

While I was sitting with my mom a woman walked in to the room looked at me turned around and walked out. I called to her and got her to stop. I asked her who she was and she said my mom's caregiver. I told her no I know my mom's care giver and she said well she is dating him and she helps out. She then also mentioned that she was buying a trailer from my mom and it is all paid off now... I knew something was up but I honestly didn't care I was there to be with my mom and I knew the kind of filth that gravitated towards my mom's kindness /gullibility. She kept trying to walk away while I was talking to her and I could see she was scared of me. It is something I see a lot I am 6 foot 5 inches and 300lbs and very shy. Sometimes me being quiet makes people nervous thinking I am mean. So I let her actions go since I was taking care of my mom. That afternoon a nurse came in and told me my mom had told her some things the week before to pass on to me. We lived in a small town and my mom thought everyone knew me so she would talk to people about me all the time. I wasn't too surprised the nurse talked to my mom about me. She said they are going to rob her and go out to her trailer and get her computer and the few family items she still had.

My mom lived 20 miles out of town and in a bit of a rough area. I headed to her trailer the next day and it was open someone had been through the trailer and her computer, tv and several other things were gone. there were a couple piles of pill bottles that were dumped out. Then it made more since. I knew my mom had sold some of her pain pills to supplement her income and I chastised her for it but she did as she saw fit. She was not one to think of consequences. Now I was getting to deal with them. I called the police and told them that my mom was in the hospital and someone robed her house. They asked if I had power of attorney and I told them no. They told me that since my mom was not dead it was still her stuff and how did they know someone was not supposed to go in there. I told them about the pill bottles and they seamed to not care. I went back to the hospital.

When I got to the Hospital a nurse asked if I saw my mom's caregiver and that she left right as I was coming in. I told the nurse my mom's caregiver was a man and I she said oh... I wen in to my mom's room and her personal closet was open. All my mom's clothes and her purse were gone. I called the state troopers told them what was going on and again they told me that she is still alive and I could not report theft of belonging that were not mine. I had to wait until the next day to go to my mom's bank to try and put a freeze on her account. When I talked to the person at the bank she told me she could not give me any information on the account. I told her about my mom and her trailer and she was very sorry about that but again no power of attorney, so no way I can do anything. I asked her what if I admitted to stealing the card? Could she close it then and she said no. (You should go set up your power of attorney. It could really help you or the people you love.)

One of the nice things about going up to see my Mom was getting to see the other people in Alaska I had not seen for 7 years. Sunday afternoon I took my family to our church to say hi to a couple people. Mostly the Goodman's They were the family that helped me get out of the group home the state had me in. I was in the home because my mom had gotten sick when I was 14 and my younger brothers went to a foster home. Due to my size they had a hard time finding a foster home that would take me. I stayed in the group home for three years waiting for a family to take me in. It wasn't until I asked if I could go to church on Sunday's that I found my own foster home. It was amazing to see the Goodman's again. They offered for my family to stay with them since they live right by the hospital. They are a big reason I am a semi functioning member of society and not dead. For as tough as my life has been at times some of the people that are put into it out weigh any trials or tribulations I face. I am blessed to have the friend and extended family I do. (Even though some days I still feel alone.)

I was in Alaska for a week my mom passed while I was there. My mom died 10 years to the day that I met my wife. I called all the people I thought should know. I took care of the things I could. The State troopers were still shit bags and the bank was unable to do anything with out a death certificate. They did tell me that there was activity on her account all week and I told the same banker from before to her face that was her fault. I was there to see my mom and say what I needed to say. I got to sit with her when she needed me and I know she is in less pain now. At the time I was not aware how much this would get me looking back to the life we lived. To the horrors I lived through why is that where my mind goes now?

1. What started me looking back.

I am at a time in my life where I need to look back at where I have been, I need to try and better understand the direction I am going. I am a 34 year old stay at home dad. I have a 3 year old and a baby on the way. I worked to help my wife get through college and we always planned on me attending when she got working. This year I got to go back to school and things looked like they were going just as we planned. I had distanced myself from an upbringing that was not conducive to higher education and life was figured out... Well except My mom had called last May and said the doctors found a lump but she was seeing the doctors regularly and that should all be ok... Except in July she said that it has spread to her lungs and she is having issues breathing but she told me not to worry about it. A couple months later and the doctors said her numbers look better. Then I talk to my older brother and hear the opposite. My mom is still trying to protect me. So now I know she is lying to me about how sick she is. It now hits me Moms was too sick to fly when my first was born and we didn't make it up to Alaska last summer to see her My mom still hasn't met her granddaughter. My mom, who had 6 boys just because she wanted a girl. I asked my mom if she could fly down to visit. I had just started school from a 7 year break and could not afford to miss class. She said she would get tickets. I called my mom and she hung up. I messaged her and it says she has seen it but no response. I call her again and she tells me My wife is filling my daughters head with lies. I know that's not my mom. I call her the next day and nothing. The same the day after that. Then someone who knows my mom calls me and says she is in the hospital. Through close friends I find a way to get my family up to Alaska to see my mom. When we got there my mom was already in a coma. My daughter got to talk to her grandma and give her a kiss on the head. She passed later that week. When I got there the doctors told me how bad she really was. The cancer had spread from her breast to her lungs then to the bones and brain. It was so fast. She was a beautiful person. She cared like no other person I know. She made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She always gave her last dollar to someone in need (to a fault). She was maybe a bit of a cat lady she had a bird or twelve in her life and a couple dogs too. She went without so I had clothes and shoes growing up. She told me a few weeks before she passed that it was ok for her to pass because she had us boys and that was her life work. That pissed me off, almost disgusted me that she would make herself the martyr like that. I didn't want her to stop fighting but I think she may have known something I didn't. While I was there taking care of things it became clear I am not going to be able to stay in school this year...

I am going to be telling a mix of stories from my youth and I will talk more about My trip to Alaska. This is my first attempt at writing a blog and still may think I am too cool for it but I know this is something that will help me process all of this. I am also a pretty open person and am happy to answer questions if something is not clear. Sometimes my brain runs a drift and that is when I do some of my best writing it is also when I get half page run on sentences. I will try to keep it readable.