{my memoirs} alka-seltzer is not 7-up...

So, when I pulled into Austin a plethora of emotions and memories enveloped me. It overwhelmed me. So much so that I had go ahead and write them all down. Get it all out there...the good, the bad and the ugly. Most of it ugly, but there was some good in the beginning. I'm not sure how many parts this will wind up being...most will be much shorter than this one, but I couldn't really find a logical place to stop.

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It's amazing to me how something as simple as driving down I-35 in Austin can stir up so many memories. Some good. But most, not so good. Most of what I went through will probably sound made up, but I promise you it is real...very, very real. I have the emotional scars to prove it.

My earliest recollection of being there was when I was three or four. I know at most people don't recall memories from that early in life, but I remember very clearly two distinct events. One was being babysat by my stepdad's parents and the other was his tragic death.

I remember my mom being happy...something I can't say happened much after I was four. During this time my mom seemed to have her act together. Married to Rodney, living a normal life, no drugs, no alcohol, no stripping, all of which would change within two short years.  By the time I'm in the middle of the first grade her life will have snowballed into something that many lifetime movies are made of, sex, lies, drugs, abuse, and I'm not even sure that is the half of it.

 

From the earliest memory I knew my mom was in love with Rodney. I'll only know this now because she told me within the last year, but she was even going to have a child with him (to only have lost it late in the pregnancy). She was happy. I'm guessing I was too...I don't remember much about our day to day life.

I do know my mom didn't have the best relationship with her inlaws. From the little I remember about them watching me, they didn't seem to care for me much. Which I guess I can understand, their precious son married some woman with a child...who would be happy with that? OK, so most families might not mind, but for some reason they did mind. They seemed to take out their resentment on me. 

I remember two distinct events with them. Both of which do not let them come off like caring adults, but they did raise Rodney and from everything I remember, he was a great man who did love me. They, however, had me drink Alka-Seltzer not for an upset stomach, but because they thought it  would be funny. They told me it was 7-up...it was not. They stole diamond earrings off my ears while I slept. They apparently were not fans of mine...

I don’t remember seeing them after Rodney was killed, I also don’t remember most of the events leading up to his death. What I do remember is being in the front seat of my mom’s car following Rodney home. I remember stopping at a stop sign and waiting to turn right. He had already turned. By the time we turned, he was already killed. He was hit by some random person who hadn’t been paying attention and ran into him. He was dead before we pulled up on the accident scene. I occasionally get flashes of that scene. I don’t remember much about it. But I do remember standing on the hood of our car screaming. Somehow we made it home. Somehow we made it through it.

My mom miraculously made it through this tragedy without going completely insane. She had lots of friends who we hung out with and stayed with while the grieving process happened. Sometime later she met Robert. He never officially became my dad, but he was there for me like one. He too was a motorcycle man, you would think my mother would have steered clear of that, but apparently she was a glutton for punishment. I remember riding through Austin on the front of his motorcycle and my mom being behind him. Something I’m quite sure is illegal now. I remember random things from my time with him, swimming at his parent’s house in Corpus or hanging out at Barton Creek riding the little train or just riding around on his motorcycle. Random thoughts that just hit me from time to time.

I’m not sure exactly how long we had Robert for...I do know that they had been together for quite a while. It was in the summer, my mom was wearing denim overalls (I’m not sure how or why I remember that detail). We were at a BBQ at one of their friends house. I remember the green grass, I remember everyone being happy, I remember the amazingly great mood people were in. I am quite sure that alcohol had something to do with that. One thing that my mom did tell me later was that Robert wasn’t a drinker, and surprisingly she wasn’t either during this time. 

So there we were, at this party, my mom and Robert were needing to make a cigarette run. I remember her coming to the backyard to tell me she was leaving. But for some strange reason, Robert left without her (on his motorcycle). She wound up hanging with us in the backyard upset. Not too long after he left there were sirens in the air...somehow, someway my mom knew something was terribly wrong. Soon one of their friends came to get my mom, she went down to the scene of the accident, which wasn’t more than two blocks from where we were. Some old lady who wasn’t supposed to be driving ran into him. He wasn’t dead when she got there. She told me years later that when she was holding his hand he seemed to do better, but when she didn’t he would deteriorate. As they were loading him to take him away, they refused to let my mom ride with them to the hospital...he died on the way there. She believes it’s their fault even to this day.  

{to be continued...}