Keeping up the end of my bargain with the Children’s Aid Society, foster care proving beyond a reasonable doubt I was mature enough to hold my own, move into a two bedroom apartment on the second floor of a house/converted apartments, straight out of a 1920 retro style magazine. It was not looking apartment but it was cheap, pile hi bright coloured shag rug wall-to-wall of different colours and every room posed a sense of whimsical ornmentation. . The bathroom was even more foreign than the other parts of the space , as I’ve never Layed eyes on a square shaped bathtub and shower before and it excited me. It was almost as if four people could fit in there with me almost like we’re sitting at the kitchen table playing cards instead bathing in a weird tub. . It was unique, almost telling a fun story from an era long gone. It wasn’t long before I moved in and my friends were dropping by for drinks, and I was no stranger to a 2:30 am doorbell from a man of my past. I would entertain the notion of a possible relationship at the Second Street residence I called home. It was the apartment were a boy named Barry braved his way over to meet my mom and play TV bingo with us as she was back in town living amongst the streets of Fort Frances Ontario.
He was quiet, shy and had a demeanour about him that any parent would fall in love with. I guess the kind a guy you would take him to meet your parents, he currently was just a friend as my heart have recently been broken and my behaviour has been nothing but rude, immature and a tad on the wild side. His presence in my life posed solitude and sensitivity. Hanging out with Barry allowed me to sit in silence for the first time, without being worried about what the other person was thinking. Sometimes it was the best conversation I ever had with someone and we never had to say anything. He was really mysterious,If I only know one at that moment he would be killed within the next year because he was drinking and driving , a car I was supposed to be in after my shift he earlier sat and watched me serve customers and smile graciously under tired eyes.
I would’ve change the direction and hopes to save his life. We never won any money at bingo that night. The three of us laughed and reminisced about my moms days living on the streets of British Columbia, very found her story is fascinating and he enjoyed listening to her commentate almost play by play. Sometimes stopping her as I was emotional as I still wasn’t excepting the cards I’ve been dealt because I was still confused. The quest for answers, was leading me to too many doors and many of those doors were black and blank. Not even giving me a clue to go into another direction which will take me to the ultimate goal, to find out the truth about my mom, The history and abuse from my dad, Wanting to know how far it went, is that what made my mom go crazy seeing monkeys and ghosts. I can remember sitting at the kitchen table her telling me the story about the ghost going from the upper to the lower basement and asking if we had seen it. I was nine or so then, And for some reason I believe someone came to bless the house but that memories quite foggy. I wanted to know exactly my father’s position or part in my mom’s mental illness leading her down a very dark road and finding out about the mental hospital that he put her in. As any child holding on to the hopes of a normal childhood, being raised by those who love them unconditionally regardless of anything.
I was never given permission to be brought into this world, so therefore I believe the people or person who is responsible for me being here on this earth with purpose, should be acknowledging their duties and responsibilities of being a proper parent. Understanding life doesn’t give you a manual to follow when you’re born to carry with you and use reference to when things go south, it is when you become strong and independent because that’s all you know. Feeling alone, all alone sitting on the staircase after being kicked out of my moms apartment years before I was double digits left me alone fending for myself. Being let down by your own parents is a reminder the importance of humanity and treating others. I lifted my head as I looked at her sitting across the couch, she doesn’t look like she did years ago her hair is dyed multitude of colours and she wears clothes worthy of any shut down Salvation Army store, but it didn’t matter what she look like, in the way I was embarrassed as I was young trying to make sense of the chaos around me. It was really hard, as no one really sad down and explained it to me where I can understand it. When you’re stubborn you may need to hear it once or twice for it to sink in, but before it sank and it was too late.
With the approval of my mom, She thought Barry was a very nice man and she wasn’t worried if I wanted more from it. We had never kissed, or shared that emotional side of a relationship. You can tell he was nervous around me, true signs of a crush I was obvious about. Too busy, trying to find my way through a winding road of questions. I continued my studies at high school to keep my end of the bargain. Proving to myself, making no excuses for my failures or successes will be the key to making a life for myself.
My mom had moved in for a very short amount of time until again, she had moved out to her own little spot down the road. Working at a local Italian restaurant as a waitress making A few dollars here and there kept me busy and somewhat of of trouble. I also wanted to prove to my mom that I was growing up, and I was always trying to impress my parents to get their attention, although my way of getting attention wasn’t the desired affect. Leaving to making me feel as though I was the mistake in the pregnancy, a child that was never wanted. But that didn’t stop me from wanting to get the answers I needed to carry-on.
The first Christmas in his apartment was the first Christmas I invited my dad and my brother to be together and it was very awkward as the three of us sat in some sort of weirdness as we all had a beer and tried to celebrate Christmas but yet it still wasn’t the same. As though too much time had gone by you try to build something that is not even possibly buildable. I never gave up hope,As months went by and applying to the local colleges and one’s a far had me excited about the future. They give me something to focus on and take my mind off but I wasn’t able to control or understand at the time.
As the acceptance letters were moving in and I knew her year will go by fast I had to start making some decisions about my future and I started to get some anxiety about leaving the town that have built me. Yet I was just getting my Mom back in my life after years of on the move. I will left with a decision, what to do.
Welcome To My Story
Cannabis Enthusiast : Craft Edible Creator : Recreation and Leisure Professional : Blogger
A Craft Edible Experience