My mom made sure that our step-dad would become the father that I knew. Speaking of my real one became a taboo.
It didn't help that I resembled my dad and my sister missed him horribly. My step-dad did his best to fill his shoes. He really was wonderful to my sister and I.
He was the rock in our lives when our mom would go into her dark times.This happened frequently.
She would sleep a lot and keep every curtain in the house closed. She would cry and nothing would make her happy. Not even my step-dad. But he was patient.
This crazy part of her would last for weeks on end. Being a little girl it felt like an infinity. As I got older, I would stay home from school and take care of her. I even learned by the time was 8 to scramble eggs, make a mean grilled cheese, and how to heat up a can of Campbell's soup.
My step-dad was the best. He wore a badge of patience. And many times he came home at the right time. He was clearly our guardian angel.
"What are you doing?" My step-dad shook her one evening.
Mom just stared blankly ahead.
A booze bottle and some pills occupied the kitchen counter. Mom had been sitting on a stool staring into space for what seemed like hours. My 3 year-old sister and I tried many times to get her attention. But it was of no use. Our snack time didn't happen that day.
My step-dad grabbed the booze bottle and the pills. He dumped the bottle and threw the pills away. After, he walked mom to their room and tucked her into bed.
That night, my sister, step-dad, and I feasted at the Golden Arches.
To be continued...
Shelly, you have a book here. One that needs to be written.
ReplyDeleteOne day, the juices are stirring.
DeleteIt sounds like she was a lost soul.
ReplyDeleteSad. Scary. Sometimes okay. But rarely.
DeleteOh Shelly.... no words.
ReplyDeleteThe sane times do get far and few between.
My Mum was the stable one in our family. We went through some horrible lean time, with little food and barley a roof. And yet she held it all together and didn't know it till we grew up how poor we were.
My Father was an alcoholic and everything that came with it.
cheers, parsnip
Aw...your mom was incredibly strong then.
DeleteSo sorry you have to write this story! Hugs to you!
ReplyDeleteSometimes you just have to.
DeleteI agree writing it helps. With my father and my x i wrote letters and
Deleteto each of them them burned them.
Somehow one needs to work on forgiveness. It's never a good thing to hold onto it.
DeleteI put the question to my therapist, do I have to forgive my x for theabuse he did to us ? I forgave and forgave and saw his side and just then realized he was indeed a sociopath (his therapist told me that)
DeleteForgiveness is for us not the other person. I don't forgive him. But it doesn't haunt me.
Like Harry Potter saving his name or just not caring what he thinks is not making him more important that he is. He is just a pathetic sad old man blaming everyone for what he does.
I believe in forgiveness. It doesn't mean we have to have contact with them. Anyway, I believe in forgiveness and let God do the rest.
DeleteHow difficult this must have been for you, Shelly. I am so glad that your step-dad was such a fine man.
ReplyDeleteHe was and still is. Although, he did suffer at her hands, as well.
DeleteYou're so brave sharing your personal stories, Shelly. Bi-polar was little understood back in the day. Mental illness even more so. And alcoholism. It's all so hard for everyone involved. Even if we forgive, we still carry scars and it shapes who we become. (((hugs)))
ReplyDeleteVery true, Gwen. Very true.
DeleteThank you for sharing this with us, Shelly. I hope writing it out like this is helpful. My mom was finally able to forgive her mom (bipolar, abusive, etc.) just before she died, and the two of us took care of her. It did her an awful lot of good to reach that place of forgiveness, bu tit was a rocky road to get there. Your step-dad sounds wonderful. My mom's was nice to her, but he never protected her. He'd tell her she shouldn't have made her mom mad. :(
ReplyDelete