I was just thinking, last night, about Mom. She's gone and that's fine. But, my brothers believe she was a Saint. One brother said it, as much. But, for me, she was cruel, emotionally abusive, scary and a dream crusher.
I don't need to dredge up all the details. They'll come in time. But this memory came up after watching a story about child trafficking being done by Iranians What a flash back. Twice, in my life, I was almost trafficked. I saved myself. First, I was 13 and at the public pool. I was approached by two guys who said they were Persian. AKA Iranian. They were probably in their 30s. They tried to kiss me and hold me tight. Fortunately, I was wet from the pool, so got out of their grip and ran for my life. I left the pool and hid in a near by stand of bushes. It was a thick hedge. I just stayed there until Mom was supposed to pick me up.
She finally showed up. I told her what happened. I was shaking and all she could say was 'Oh be nice.' That's it. Hand to God that's what she said to her daughter. I know she didn't want me, but hell why would someone not give a damn about a child being abducted for trafficking? But, that's who she was. She didn't want me, but she didn't allow another family to adopt me and love me.
It just gets better. Similar thing happened when I was 15. This was at the beach. Again, I saved myself. This time I tried to tell her what happened. Guess what she said? Yeah, 'Be Nice.'
She was a real piece of work. Fast forward a bit and she found it in herself to have her first grandchild murdered.
But, my brothers think she's a Saint. Families can really, really suck.
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