In The Image of Him

Both the fathers of my children are in nursing homes. Well, one should be, but is too self-loathing to stay. His mind has not accepted that he has no legs, no real useful use of his hands, little strength in his arms.

The first is the father of my oldest daughter. I went crazy over him the moment I laid eyes on him. I tell the story in my autobiography, "Telling the Truth and Shaming the Devil."

He knocked on the side door. I looked out and saw the most gorgeous little man I had ever seen. He only stood 5'1", but boy his skin glowed and his eyes shown the innocence that was at his core.

"I am here to see Pam." He said boldly.

Just as bold with a tad more audaciousness, I said, "She told me about you. She don't like you. I am the one you need. You are beautiful. Look at your eyelashes. Are those real? Your skin is like gold. What's your name?"

The end.

He was mine for the time he wanted to be mine. I moved in with him and he began to feel like "a married man."

We had our baby boy moment and parted ways. I never looked back to this day. Now, his body represents what his mind experienced. Trauma and fear. Disconnect from the norm and loneliness.

The father of my two youngest children is suffering from an unbelievable amounts of illnesses. He was genetically predisposed to many of them, but his lifestyle was the real culprit. He ain't what he wanted, as much as he wanted. He had is liquor and beer. He had his smoke  and coke. He did his thang.
He excited me. He made me want to fly and I did for a long time. I got to do everything I wanted to because of his pseudo-support. I am a true testament to "You can't keep a good woman down." I made the best of every minute he gave me.

It was a "potential" thing with me. He is as smart as a whip and a master of disguise and innuendo. He would consistently try to outwit me after having done so once are twice. Those times I knew deep down; I was just lying to myself.

I saw all the things he could have done, while he just kept encouraging me to do more. Now, he is running from the life he so cleverly created. He's pissed because he is the forgotten one, the one no one can stomach for too long. Bitter and self-pitying; I barely recognize the man that was never there.

To both of them, I pray for God's will. I do not regret giving my all to either one of them. They both know they were loved and well taken care of on my watch.

Them brothers have some serious issuations.