My time

At a young age of 19, I have been questioning everything about myself. Who could be my biological father? What was he like? You are sitting there like, “bitch you took the DNA test with Rod and told us it was negative”. Well, turns out the results were negative, but Rod wasn’t the only potential one, besides my dad that raised me. Turns out there was more than just Rod that she cheated on my dad with. I still respect my dad on his wishes not to do a DNA test with him. From his point of view, if it comes back negative how will it change us? Will it change how he feels about me, will he be angry towards me, unintentionally? These questions will never be answered, fortunately for him. 

My mother’s stories became clear to me that she had no idea who could be my biological father and shes really didn’t care how that affected me. She knew Rod wasn’t and her plan with him failed. She had her next victim lined up and ready, this time she gets what she deserves. She ended up marrying JT at the Christian Church we grew up in. I refused to take part as I could care less about either of them. 

My mother married a man that left his wife alone to fight cancer only to die alone. Here my mother thought she was going to live this luxurious life. Well, today I can say that her life is nothing but pain, sorrow, negative, and sad. If you don’t believe in karma, you may after reading this!

Let’s get into my mother’s issues, there are many so we will hit just a few. My mother lost her mother when I was only two years old. This is a very dramatic and tragic story, bare with me. From the stories I’m told, my moms mom, my grandmother, got cancer and tried all kinds of treatments that were FDA approved in the US. Apparently, my grandfather, lets call him Irv, wasn’t going to give up and researched more about treatments down in Mexico, even though they weren’t FDA approved, he was desperate to save her.

I remember a time we pulled up to my grandparents house and telling them goodbye. I remember because we just got there but telling them goodbye and lots of crying. This memory of mine is probably the day they left for Mexico. I only have two memories of my grandmother, that day and one other during some holiday. I was sitting on my grandmothers lap giggling and eating pickles in her kitchen. My mom walked in and saw us, put her hands on her hips, and said “what do you two think you are doing?” My grandmother laughed and squeezed me saying “we’re in trouble now”. That was it of my memory, but it makes me smile every time I think about it.