Tap Dancing on Thin Ice

It’s so interesting looking back at my notes from all of this because I feel like an entirely different person. Or this seems more like a weird dream than a time period in my life. I have barely scratched the surface and even though I saved all of my facebook messages (the main way I was able to speak to my father), or texts with my half-sister, I haven’t read them since they happened. Until now.

February 11, 2023 - After my first chats with my step-father I began creating his family tree and doing some research on Ancestry. I was young when they married and was 6 when they split up. I remember meeting his mother some and going over to her house at least once, but being that young, those are some fuzzy recollections. 

I checked my father’s facebook and he posted that he was running as a write-in candidate for sheriff in his county. In another post he wrote about going to a Billy Joel concert with my mother on December 6, 1978. (I verified that Billy Joel did have a concert at Charlotte Coliseum on that date.) He wrote “The first concert that I took Tina's mother to in Charlotte 1978. I rank those years as my lowest and most lost. The Playlist fits.” 

The first post was amusing but the second really gave me something to ponder. I didn’t know that they knew each other and were together back in 1978. She married her first husband in 1977 and they were divorced in 1979, about 6 months before I was born. Anyway, we’ll get to a timeline in another post. I have a tendency to get off track, but just remember this tidbit. 

The last entry for this date was how I found photo of my mother from 2014 on facebook. My stepfather told me that she’d been working in a restaurant. I couldn’t picture her working anywhere but the post office, but there she was! Wild. 

February 14, 2023 - I wrote that I had gotten worried that Ancestry lost my sample but when I checked, I saw it had been received and was being processed. 

My stepfather texted me and we planned to talk that afternoon at 2. I took some notes from our conversation. He shared what he’d been up to - he had retired but was still doing landscaping. We talked about gardening and his house at the beach. Then the conversation turned to my mother… I suppose none of it is terribly interesting but here are some highlights:

• She got mad and quit her job and went to work at a kids clothing store. This tidbit amused me because she abandoned her baby to go do this? I could not and still cannot imagine my mother selling kids clothes.

• I already knew this, but she was (is?) a fastidious person. Everything has to be just so. It’s probably a good thing I never lived with her because her house was always spotless. Not a speck of dust in sight! 

• He told me about things she’d cook during the times they were together. This was interesting because I never spent enough time with her to know what she cooked or ate - I mostly spent time with her around holidays and only remember her stuffing and cherry cheesecake. The few times I was at her house she’d order a pizza or we’d pick up fast food from somewhere.

• We talked about her divorce from her third (fourth?) husband and how when she left, she took some money and he took her to court to get it back. I saw some of this in public records.

• Other random stuff - my uncle’s first wife dated my mother’s third husband, he hadn’t seen my aunt since my wedding in 2001 but occasionally texted her and her husband. He said the last time he saw my mother she said she was trying to give her fourth (fifth?) husband to my grandmother. There was an age difference and he was much older, but ew. What a strange thing to say out loud. 

• He told me that they lived with her parents for a bit between getting married and finding a place of their own. He said in October of 1980 they did a day trip to the mountains in Virginia. They’d only known each other a month and my mother was already talking about getting married. By January they tied the knot, but she had wanted to get married at Christmas time with her brother and his wife. 

• I had forgotten about this, but he said he had a conversation with my grandmother about why it would be hard for me to live at home and go to college. 

• How he dreaded going home after work, how she got angry when he waved at the neighbors or was friendly with people when they were out. He was always running into someone he knew, which drove her crazy. 

• He shared a story about one Christmas that he took her to work and then picked her up before going to a family gathering at my grandparents’ house. (This must have been Christmas of 1981 just before my grandfather died) He’d planned to take her home to freshen up and pick up the gifts. He said she was angry and blew up because he hadn’t brought the presents so they could go straight there. She said it would be too late and they may as well not even go. I think she was doing everything she could to avoid being around me. 

I checked my father’s facebook page and he’d written a post to his wife, daughter, and another woman I wasn’t able to place at the time. He also wished “she who does not claim me” a happy Valentine’s day. I wondered who he meant and I noticed that I wasn’t going to be able to send him a friend request. 

I didn’t make another entry in my notes for over a week but the next entry is super long, even longer than the one on Valentine’s day. In these early conversations with my stepfather I tried to write down everything I recalled afterwards because I was afraid something would happen and I wouldn’t get to talk to him again. I wanted to be able to remember. I don’t remember the last time I talked to my grandmother or what we talked about. I don’t remember what I talked about the last time I saw my mother. So I took notes because I wanted to remember and in hopes that he would share some tidbit or story that made things make sense. 

February 22, 2023 -  There are a lot of typos and grammatical errors, which I will leave as they are.  This is from a public post.

“Well I did one ex.  I will do another but...in a different format.

The first one is so much more despicable than the second.  I really wouldn't know where to start. So, I'm just going to hit the highlights. 

Married me at 16 years old to get away from her family. I was the 16 yo. She was 15. Ain't South Carolina great. We were both stupid and she was pregnant.

Moved to Charlotte and I worked full time supporting the family.  Manufacturing plants was what I did. Carry the scars today to prove it.

After my son was born it went from bad to worse.  She  not only wasn't a one man woman, she couldn't keep it a secret.  No, she was duty bound not only to screw around on me but she had to soothe her troubled soul by telling me that she did it. 

Rubbed my nose in it. Compared me to him in bed and moved to her next crutch to repeat it all over again. a Neverending cycle.

No I was not a nice person. I hung out with druggies and  various motorcycle club members and a couple of strippers after she was gone. She went more for simps.

No I didn't cheat back. Too busy working and watching the kid for her to do her thing.

Yes I experimented with drugs and alcohol.  The biggest drawback was that the crap didn't work on me the same as others. Got sick before I got drunk and drugs made everyone else high. It just didn't do anything for me.

So how did I cope with it?  I didn't. Serious passive aggressive. Sold my soul and self respect to try keeping my son.  It didnt work.

Two times it was stupid luck that I didn't kill her lovers. They simply weren't there when I went looking.  One got locked up for beating his wife and putting her in the hospital three days later. They had two kids. Little girls.

One really...really serious suicide attempt. It was almost serious enough but like everything else in my life at that time, I effed that up too.  Psychological help pulled me from the edge but I could still look over the edge into the darkness. I still do.

She joined the Air Force. Gamed the system and had my son adopted away from me without my knowledge.

I coped but barely. Kept a job. Didn't try to kill myself again so suicide was under control. Was crazy enough that Outlaws, Foot Stompers, and Pagans wouldn't screw with me. I think that it takes one to know one.

Took up death wish hobbies. Rock climbing, spelunking, rappelling, etc.  Survived it all despite routinely ignoring basic safety precautions.

IMO suicide was a nono but if I died in an accident then stuff happens right?  Anyway, that's how I see it.

The rage was so much there. I'd lost my son and I felt that I'd failed him like my mom and dad had failed me. I lost my reason for living.The emotional pain was unbearable. Still feel that way but I deal with it.

Moved into police work. Sometimes did it for free sometimes paid. Always rushed to danger never away from it. 

Even in the prison I was the one with the real knack of being where it was about to happen. When I say that I'd have given my life for a fellow officer it wasn't just words.  I meant it.

Anyway enough about me and back to her.

She truly messed me up.  She truly messed my son up. She doesn't care.  Didn't then.  Doesn't now. Never will. Everything will always center on her. Sound like a sociopath?  I think so bur I'm not a doctor.

She had the audacity to want me to sign a paper justifying what she did so she could sooth her troubled soul and become Catholic.  I did. I don't much care for them anyway. They will let her think that she has bought her way into heaven if she likes.

The only thing she did that was good for me was make it so that I would tolerate anything to be with my children until they were of age. Me and my second wife would never have lasted if not for her. 

I needed to be there for my kids. All if them if they wanted me. Some of them if they didn't. The second wouldn't allow the son from the first to have s relationship with me.

Have I painted her as a disgusting skank who broke and destroyed me?  That's good if I did because that's what she did and what she was.

Her good points?  Some people were not hurt and are still alive because f her. I would enter a situation with absolutely no regard for personal safety if someones safety relied on me. It confused some bad people and it scared others. That's good. It should have. But still it kept some people from being hurt and I think some people are alive on account of it. 

I know that what she did back in the 70's was a root cause of why I carry permanent brain damage, currently controlled seizures, cognitive issues and so on. A person who was afraid or intimidated by a UBN hit man who had 5 incidents of staff assault in his recent past would have been afraid and maybe used officer discretion to let a little thumping and theft slide under the radar. I took my duties very seriously. I would have given my life in defense of any officer.  As confusing as it is to understand and I dint understand it myself, I would give my life defending a convict from aggression that could cause serious aggression.  So yes I would put myself in danger defending a convict if required.

I know this I'd confusing and hard to understand.  Such is life.

Peace

.

Some convicts I respect but I don't fear anyone. That's her doings and it's my curse.  I'm not bragging. The simple truth of the matter is that I should have died in 1978.  My being alive is a mistake.”

Then in a reply he wrote “I'm not so sure about it helping right now. I cried the day before yesterday for nearly 5 hours and I honestly don't know why. I always dream about work. One place ot another. Always.”

___________________________________________________

So, my thoughts… There was a lot to take in with this post. He talked about doing anything to be with his kids, but I’ll later learn that wasn’t the case. He’s very angry and a lot of things seem to happen to him - he doesn’t have any control over, well, anything. 

On the same day he also wrote this post - 

“I just spent all night dreaming of things that I never did, in places I've never been, with people I've never known.

My writing reflects my thinkin. The thoughts fragmented, incomplete, and I don't think lucid. My vocabulary so much changed right now. Either words that I know but never use or just common use of vulgar language that I hope I deleted cause Facebook won't allow it and neither would I. I woke up twice last night seeing that I was just a send button away from sending an absolutely incoherent message to people I've never sent a message to. I'm posting this because if I sent some and you got it. I'm sorry delete it. I can't explain it.

Did I seize and don't remember it? I don't know. I know that seizures leave me drained and confused sometimes depending on type. I've never felt like this from having one and I've never had a bad one without knowing it. So, I don't think so.

Did I have another stroke? Now that's got possibilities I guess. It too left me drained and incoherent. It too left me changed but like a seizure I felt the changes had happened. Unlike this time, I felt the changes when they happened. This time I just know that I've changed. Dramatically and irrevocably. That's same as the stroke.

So right now I'm just confused. I'm not dangerous to myself or others. So, I'm not running to a help line. Help from what? What kind of help?

I guess I'm telling my blood family that I live them. I'm telling those who chose to be my personal demons that you aren't forgotten. Yes good things happened to orlthers on account of you. But a lot of personal pain happened also. So my message to you. All of you. Every one of you from my parents to my sorry assed ex wives...I don't forgive you. Forgiveness requires repentance. I've not seen it.

To my kids. Even the ones who hate me and want nothing to do with me, I'm sorry and I love you.

Now let's see where this road leads. Short or londl, up or down, right ot left; it's the only road I know. I'll never pass this way again and to that I say thank God. It had some good parts to it though.

___________________________________________________

My thoughts - it’s very muddled and hard to follow, but he talks about repentance. I can see now that he wanted people to grovel to him but beyond perhaps admitting to his own wrongdoings, he won’t apologize or change his behaviors. It was weird to see him be this introspective and I thought at the time that he might be having regrets and wanting to change. He wrote about not being able to forgive people, but also said he was sorry and loved his kids, even the ones who didn’t have anything to do with him. I knew, at the very least he was talking about me, but I didn’t know what kind of relationship he had with his other kids. 

I don’t think I will ever forget the afternoon that I summoned the courage to send a friend request to my half-sister. I said “fuck it, let’s see what happens” and hit the button. 

She messaged me back and said “do I know you?”. I’m serious. That was her immediate response. I told her who I was and I tried so hard to be gentle because I empathized with what a shock it could be to hear from me when she still might not know that I existed. She replied to ask if I made my facebook account just to contact her. My account was relatively new, but no, I had not created it with the intention of contacting her. I told her that we’d met once, back when she was 13. I told her that I wasn’t looking for anything - I didn’t want money, didn’t need a place to stay, didn’t need anything. She seemed… aggressive? Protective? Defensive? All of the above?

She seemed to be a little more receptive after I assured her I didn’t want anything and she said she remembered the time we met. She told me that she had actually started looking for me the week before. She asked why I had reached out to her and not him. I told her that I had but I assumed that he hadn’t seen my messages (on Ancestry and facebook messenger). She said she forwarded my profile to him but she was wary about being caught in the middle of any drama. She said  “there are two sides to everything and then there is the truth” and that she was “sad it took me this long to seek out the truth tho”. 

I wasn’t looking to cause or be a part of any sort of drama. I was terrified at any part I was playing in traumatizing anyone. I was treading as carefully as I possibly could, especially given what I’d read in some of his recent posts. But again, hindsight and I can see how she was judgmental and harsh. At the time I was trying to take everything in, not make any snap judgements about anyone myself. 

While all this was happening, I also talked to my stepfather. He told me that my mother started working at the same store as him about a month after I was born and that she was dating some guy from the neighborhood. I know his name, but it doesn’t matter here. She was always smiling and he had a nickname for her - “smilin L***”. She told everyone that she was living with her parents and they watched her baby so she could work. She took me into the store a couple of times on her day off. He told me that my cousin was working at a university but his job was ending soon. 

So this was a lot. It was a lot of information coming in from my father’s facebook posts, my stepfather, and now my half-sister. I felt like I was tap dancing on thin ice. One wrong word or question and everything would go sideways on me.