I have been remiss-this is a blog and I should keep on it better.
A blog is an online journal, used by the unknown to update the blogger's social circle updated.
Or, in the case of the completely unknown, a blog is used to vent, examine, consider, keep track and keep on track.
I have the rare reader and do not even respond most times, so socially inept have I become in the past two+ years I've been writing this thing.
I open the dashboard and find myself paralyzed-in my increasingly boring life, what could I possibly have to say?
My life has become terribly boring-I know very few people, go no-where but to and from work with the rare exception of a quick shopping trip through a store on my daily to/from work route. The shopping trips are equally boring, I run in and grab a few groceries from Publix or grooming basics from the Wal-Mart (a store I especially detest but must frequent for my allergy meds and less expensive cat food). I try to make the trips count so that I do not have to come back any time soon.
Once upon a time I was much less boring and I grieve deeply for the lost and missing Me.
I want my life back; I want my son, my grandson, a home, a place, a bloody damn meaning!
Friday night as I surfed a news site I read that a US diplomat has been sentenced to twenty years for committing sex crimes against children in the countries he was posted to. Reading this of course reopened wounds, and I googled the ex only to have his father's obituary come up.
My ex-father-in-law died in hospice care on 18th Feb 2008. The obit listed his survivors leaving off my son, and I have such mixed emotions!
Firstly, because I know now that my suspicions are correct (Crusty filled his all too willing to believe family with lies to cover his prosecutable crimes) and I find it incredibly sad that Fox has been cheated yet again by an utterly evil man.
Yet...those were the most wretched people! Their life was small, colourless, empty, venal, meaningless, and a complete illusion. Made it easier to buy into Crusty's lies, although at least one of his sisters knew the truth about just what a piece of ambulatory fecal matter her brother is. She lacked the courage to turn her back. A self-confessed coke whore (to me one night during yet another of the torturous 'family reunions' his mother was always having), she further confessed she had no courage whatsoever in regards to her mother...
But his mother, while a real pill, did try and so did his father. I think that the years and years of his lies finally caught up, and in 1997 I flat refused to go to see them...
He got me to pack the car and we went, the three of us, to Charlotte, North Carolina. He wanted to check the town out as he was contemplating moving us there. On the way back he pulled off at his parents exit (near Greenville, South Carolina); I was filled with cold dread at the thought of having to endure his parent's inhospitality and I got him to stop in the car park of a local business-closed as it was Sunday afternoon.
Fox and I got out of the car and flatly refused to go another inch if it meant ending at his parents crumbling piece of carpet bagging excess. A tremendous row ensued and the owner of the business came out to see if he needed to ring for the police.
Crusty was frantic that Fox and I accompany him to his parents, my son and I were equally frantic to not.
We won that one, my son and I. Five miserable hours later we were in our own drive, into the house, and back into our unhappy routine.
I begged, many many many many many times for a paternity test, for he acted as though he did not believe Fox was his son, and others, primarily his family, acted that way too, and I finally got it, too late, that Crusty was slandering me behind my back and had been from the start.
But from very nearly the start I begged him to go for a paternity test because I stupidly believed that once he knew the truth he would change, be a better and nicer person...
How really very stupid of me, ya know?!
He didn't want to know the truth and he could not afford to have me know either.
And deep down inside, I used to tell myself that if by some miracle Fox was not Crusty's child, I could grab up my beautiful boy and get the bloody hell out of Dodge without any qualms or guilt that I was breaking up a family, the way I felt when I divorced my daughter's father so many years before.
Because there are only two reasons I stayed. One being that, and the other being the gun Crusty kept to mine and Fox's heads all though horrific years.
Crusty's little snowball, I wonder, did his father ever know the real truth? Will my son?
I want my life back; I want my son to know the truth. I want vindication and I want all of this before my son is another day older-I WANT MY FAMILY BACK, DAMN IT!