In her words....

"And the truth shall set you free". 
 
" Well that all depends on who you ask and especially what truth you are revealing.  I have learned that there are many truths that will set you free, don't get me wrong. But I will bare witness to the fact that some truth will turn your world upside down and be very unforgiving. 
 
This is a story about truth. 
 
 The truth about abuse, honesty, love, lies, sexuality, and freedom.  The truth about a girls life and her journey to find her truth.
 
 I will not start with the year that I was born or describe the twinkle in my mothers eyes when I arrived.  Rather, I will begin with when I actually remember things.  I will start with my father since he is the epitamy of memories, coming and going without rhyme or reason. He towered over me at about six feet three inches and varied in weight depending on the season.  The summer always colored his skin deep copper and his muscle definition was much more noticable.  In the winter he would fatten up just like a pig and I eventually would hope he would be Thanksgiving dinner for some starving family, but that explanation will come later. 
 
 First I will tell you how in love with this man that I was.  I always compared him to superman.  Tall, strong, dark hair, brown eyes, perfect teeth, and a nose like Elvis Presley.  In his older 20's early 30's and his thin stage, he was handsome.  All that masculinity and a shadow that consisted of me, a four year-old brown haired, brown eyed, skinned knees little girl; tomboy on top of that.  I adored that man and for a while he did me.  To this day I remember his smell.  The mix of oil from his garage, fresh cut grass, beer and cigarettes.  I often think of him and remember him in such a fond way, and then the page turns.  That's when life decided to change.  He became less and less of a father and even less of a man.  One summer he got my older sister of five years and me a four-wheeler.  We didn't realize what a blessing that would come to be.
 
                  Earthquakes
 
Yelling.  That was all my sister and I began to hear, and then the earthquakes came leaving mother with bruises and with a mess to clean up.  One morning he got mad at mother for not cooking his eggs correctly and he took off his belt and beat her with it.  The world was changing...my world was ending.  My father became such an angry man.  I can still to this very day remember the sound of his belt being jerked out like a whip, popping on each loop until freed from his work pants, feeling my heart sink, my little body tighten up and ducking my head.  Most of the time he would overlap the leather straps and go for the legs.  It stings worse than if it were on the butt.  It throbs when you move your legs to walk and burns like hell when you sit down.  That was daddy's target.  There were even times he just used his buckle.  I remember staring at it with such contempt one day at its gold and silver lining with his initals standing out in the center.  It was a miracle that I wasn't branded like a cow and forced to live the entirety of my life with his initals on my legs. But, only the hook would pierce my back and leave its permanent reminder of a man gone mad and a father lost."
 
So in her words, my little sister's words, along with  my memories, she helps create a picture of a man, a man we called Daddy.  For the times its too painful to actually use that endearing term  he will only be referred to in a masculine sense.  This is part of who we are, part of our strength and most definitely part of our weakness. This is only a drop in the bucket.. the bucket of paint I will use to paint the picture of my life. 

You will never forget....

Another hot, muggy, summer day being dragged through the mall with my mother. I wasn't there to try on clothes or go in the stores I really wanted.. I was there as a moving table. You know, here hold this, carry my purse, hold that, oh one more thing.. got room?? If the drudging around the mall wasn't bad enough, it was getting back in the furnace of hell car that awaited us in the parking lot. Dying to get in and sit down,,, only to have to wait for a good three or four eternal minutes outside the car while the doors are swung open letting the vacuous heat escape from the innards of the car. One of those hot days where you can see the heat itself moving in the air and from the road tops.. part of that heat that also lay beneath my feet on the tarmac of which they called the spacious parking lot. After most of the heat had escaped and the car then turned on with the AC blowing wide open.. we entered the car. The car.. a light blue 1974 Buick LaSabre with the suede bench seats and the wonderous 8 track player. The one thing that will be my downfall on this day would be the glove compartment straight ahead of me. That would be part of my carelessness that scorched this day into eternal memory.

As I sat there, cooling to almost normal temperatures again,, I felt guilty for what I had done. Part of me, no all of me knew it was wrong, but the other side of me thought that no one would notice or miss anything. You see, in my pocket, I had hidden a small prize for myself. It was a Snoopy address book.. a little round one that wasn't more than an inch and a half wide as it was tall. One of those little novelty items they have near the counters for the impulse buyers to grab and purchase.. only mine wasn't purchased. I did start off my need to have this little book by asking mother to buy it for me.. repeatedly begging for it.. after several not this time, no's, and put that back's .. only when mother wasn't looking, paying for the stuff SHE wanted,, I didn't put it back..I slid it into my little pocket,, where it was now seeming to burn a hole through.


Half way through the trip home, mother decided to stop at a convenience store for a drink.. and she left the car running and me in it. While she was in the store.. my excitement about having that little book got the best of me and I reached in and pulled it out to take a thorough look through it. No one was gonna miss this! How could they.. its so small.. and only cost a buck!! I would pray for forgiveness later.. but now I enjoyed having a little secret. OH NO! Here she comes .. she snuck up on me!! No time to get it back in my pocket. Quick! Open the glove compartment and throw it in! She sat down behind the wheel as I slammed the compartment door. She looks over at me..

"What were you doing in there?"

"Nothing" I replied.

" I saw you throw something there, what was it?"

"Nothing" again I maintained.

"Open it up and show me what this 'nothing' is then"

I felt my heart drop and my limbs go numb. Not scared of her because of what I had done.. scared that she wouldn't keep my secret from HIM. So I proceeded to pull out the tiny Snoopy address book and revealed it to her.

"Where did you get this?"

Here I have to add that maybe part of the reason I took it was that she didn't even look at it to know what it was that I wanted.. just gave me a No, end of discussion answer. When she asked this, I knew then for sure she didn't even glance down at it before we left the store.

"I .. I .. I.. took it from the store"

"WHAT? You KNOW better than to steal! We have raised you better than that!"

"But but but mom,, it wasn't much and you said no and I really really wanted it.. "

"I am sorry but you didn't have any need for that, you have plenty of things at home to play with. Wait till HE finds out."

"NOOOO MOM PLEASE NOOOOO don't tell HIM!!"

" I am sorry Chris, but I have to, I can't keep something like this from him."

She had made up her mind already. I still do this day can't figure out what she expected would happen.. she knew HIS history , she knew HIS temper. Could she not see the terror in my eyes, that knowing look I had that I was about to get it good?? Maybe somewhere in the recess of her mind she was thinking.. just do right by HIM and explain it in a better light and HE will only do a small reprimand to remind of her right and wrong. Maybe? I can only hope that was her thinking, otherwise it would have just been averting her pain onto me, and I don't want to believe that. So, I won't.


My body stiffened as we approached our driveway and pulled in. My eyes welled up with tears and fright. We unloaded the car and went inside. HE was down in his workshop, probably working on some car or something.. We were home only a few minutes till HE came up to the house to ask about dinner. At this point, I was frozen, and can't for the life of me remember the exact words mother used to tell him about my indiscretion. The thing I remember next was being told to go to my room and wait while HE got HIS belt. I sat on the edge of my bed, crying ,, crying so hard it was to the point of big gulps of sniffling. I didn't want to be wailing or anything ,, that might make it worse. So I held back as best as I could. Finally, HE came in and stood in my doorway.

" You are about to get a reminder to you that stealing is wrong young lady and you are about to get a whipping you will never forget. Not only that, I am gonna get this little book and hang it from your bedroom door so that everytime you walk through you will be reminded of what you did!"

Ohh it was coming.. HE pointed towards my bathroom, "GET IN THERE AND BEND OVER!"..

I walked slowly into the bathroom and proceeded to bend only slighly, and as every kid does that gets spankings their instinct moves their hands to cover the part to be hit. "DROP THEM!" and down my hands went..now holding the edge of the tub beside me. Here comes the first one.. all belt.. right on my rear end. The second swoosh came down.. almost all belt, farther down on my rear. The third one, building up energy and speed landed.. not so much belt.. as it was the buckle sting I felt, and the point of contact was my upper hind legs. The fourth, fifth, sixth, came down in the same fashion. I think maybe by the tenth or so he was tired out. I mean who wouldn't be.. giving those kinds of blows using all your 6'3" , 250lbs body could swing. Who would be tired?? How was it even possibl3 you hadn't jolted your little girl clear across the room into the tub. OHHH she's tough.. she stood strong.


Yeah..I stood strong.. I stood because I couldn't sit down comfortable for almost a week. Not with the bruises and welts left behind. Part of that reminder you know.. HE wanted to make sure he got his point across. Immediately after the "incident", I went straight to my room and cried for what seemed forever.. till I was again reminded that I had to suck it up now and come to dinner. Three guesses who told me that .. and the first two don't count!

It was excruciating to sit and eat.. to sit across the table from HIM and watch him go on as if nothing he did was wrong. Eat hearty I thought... I am sure you will need your energy for the next "incident". I could hardly look at mother.. cause after all .. if she would have just kept her mouth shut .. I wouldn't be in so much agony right now. Yes, I stole it.. yes I did the wrong thing.. so I do take blame for that much. She was an adult and could have chosen not to tell him, but she did.. and one day not too long ago.. I reminded her of this day.. and said that I do blame her for her part in it too. She didn't comfort me after my punishment, I suppose she was afraid HE would beat her again too.


HE was right about one thing...his philosophy theories for memory worked.. He made his point.. When he said "You will never forget"... he was right.. I haven't.. and I don't suppose I ever will.