Mom and Dad, v.1.0
Family is on my mind a lot lately. Disatisfaction. Gatherings. I am going to write about it awhile.
Once upon a time, for a few days, I had a mother and father. My mother was 21 and moody and had no Ohio driver's license. My father was 23 and moody and a mechanical genius with no New York driver's license, and I'm told his front teeth were knocked out. I don't know much about what he looked like. Only two photographs are known to exist.
When my mother was 7 or 8 months pregnant, my dad went back to New York. My mom went home to her parents' house, and I was born on a Sunday in September. A few months later, my father suffocated himself in the cab of a truck parked partially in a garage in Madison, Wisconsin. I don't know exactly when. As his legal child, I can order his death certificate from the state of New York for $30. My parents were married. My father had impregnated two other women previously, but not married them.
Within a few years, my mother went away. She told her parents she was going to place me for adoption. My mother was the oldest of five, and her father named her after himself. Then he had another daughter, and the third child was a son whom he named after himself also. Then he had another daughter and another son, but he didn't name them after himself. I guess two was enough.
When I was four I lived with my mother some more. We lived in a trailer park and then we moved into a tent in the woods behind a house across the street from the trailer park. I went to kindergarten from the trailer park and then from the tent. Then kindergarten was over.
The next scene I remember is at my Aunt Cindy's house. Cindy is daughter number two who is not named after her father. There was a party for me and my family was there, meaning my grandparents and aunts and uncles. A redheaded man with a beard and mustache came. He looked exactly like John Lannigan, the obnoxious Cleveland radio icon. He was driving a Volkwagen bug, the old kind. He took me away in it. Everyone was crying but I was not, because what was the problem anyway?
My New york cousin, Ava, on my dad's side, writes and advice blog. And I got to thinking about how her dad, is my dad's brother. How I could have gotten her dad and she could have gotten my dad. Is gotten really a word? If it is, it is old english. There's no way it's French.
My dad's parents didn't just have five children, they had seven. And all of them are boys, except the youngest. My dad was the oldest. Neither he nor any of his siblings are named after either of their parents.
So you have my dad, who is dead.
Then you have Ned, my cousin Ethan's dad. Ned looks just like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. He and his wife are hippie back-to-the-landers. They bought some property and sawed down the trees and built a house with the bark still on. Ethan had a bunkbed with the bark still on. Ned makes apple pies with the skin still on. And he and his wife are STAUNCH REPUBLICANS. I just don't get it.
Next we have Pat. Rachel, Gideon, and Dylan's dad. When I was young I thought he was funny, but as an adult I see he is obnoxiuos and has ADD. Still, he's been married to his second wife like 30 years, so he might be a pretty good dad.
Number four is Mark, who's Leah and Ben's dad. He was an alcoholic for twenty years, had back problems, is sober now but was on methadone for a decade for the back pain. He and his wife are poor and live small. Ben says Mark used to beat him every day, which I believe is partially true. Leah and Ben are both alcoholics and are both divorced. Mark looks just like John Mellencamp, and while I hope John Mellencamp dies in a fire, Mark is my favorite uncle.
Son five is Ward; Camille, Ava, and Chloe's dad. Ward is a Fullbright scholar and looks like David Bowie. He was my favorite uncle as a child, but as an adult I disliked his effeminateness. About ten years ago his mother died, and a year later his father died. About a year after that, Ward divorced his wife and moved to New York City with his boyfriend. I don't know if he had the boyfriend or the divorce first. He is on good terms with all his daughters and I think he is a mostly good dad.
The youngest son is Joey, April's dad. He dated his girlfriend for like twenty years and I think only married her when they got pregnant with April. He and his wife live in Florida and April lives in New york City. Of all my uncles, Joey cried the most at his mother's funeral. I have no idea if he's a good dad or not.
Last in the birth order is my aunt Marie. She was the fat one and suffered a lot I think, having six brothers and a mean father. I had a lot of fun with her when I was a child, but as an adult I think she is an aspie. She never left her parents' home even after they died, and over the years became morbidly obese. She has no children.
So I am the child of the dead one. So are my half-sister Hope, who is miserably married and lives in Rochester, and my half-brother Jason, who is also married and lives in Boston. People don't say "half-sister" or "half-brother" anymore. Everybody has a brother from another mother or equivalent. But when I was little, other kids would say, "What's a half-brother? Does he have no legs?" They never asked me, "What's a half-sister," because Hope's mother never told her who her father was until the random age of 29.
Before I met her, Hope told me that she has one blue eye and one brown eye. She said the dad who raised her used to force discounts on their family photos by asking the photographer why his child had one blue eye and one brown eye in the pictures. I think he was a bad father. And I wondered how Hope could have one blue eye and one brown eye, like a Siberian Husky. When I met Hope, I saw she does not. She has brown eyes, and one eye has a blue spot in it.
I have a son. When he was born, he had blue eyes, but they got darker, and now he has brown eyes. His left eye has a blue spot in it, specifically in the 7 o'clock position. When he talks to me I look at the blue spot and I think to myself, someday you'll have a girlfriend, and when you talk to her, she'll look at that blue spot in your eye.
Hope has a son and a daughter. I will look at their eyes when I see them. Jason has a son, whose eyes I also have not seen. Stupid economy.
Obviously the blue spot gene is my father's. That is his position in my life. My mother apparently lives within a half hour of my house, but I don't care.
Once upon a time, for a few days, I had a mother and father. My mother was 21 and moody and had no Ohio driver's license. My father was 23 and moody and a mechanical genius with no New York driver's license, and I'm told his front teeth were knocked out. I don't know much about what he looked like. Only two photographs are known to exist.
When my mother was 7 or 8 months pregnant, my dad went back to New York. My mom went home to her parents' house, and I was born on a Sunday in September. A few months later, my father suffocated himself in the cab of a truck parked partially in a garage in Madison, Wisconsin. I don't know exactly when. As his legal child, I can order his death certificate from the state of New York for $30. My parents were married. My father had impregnated two other women previously, but not married them.
Within a few years, my mother went away. She told her parents she was going to place me for adoption. My mother was the oldest of five, and her father named her after himself. Then he had another daughter, and the third child was a son whom he named after himself also. Then he had another daughter and another son, but he didn't name them after himself. I guess two was enough.
When I was four I lived with my mother some more. We lived in a trailer park and then we moved into a tent in the woods behind a house across the street from the trailer park. I went to kindergarten from the trailer park and then from the tent. Then kindergarten was over.
The next scene I remember is at my Aunt Cindy's house. Cindy is daughter number two who is not named after her father. There was a party for me and my family was there, meaning my grandparents and aunts and uncles. A redheaded man with a beard and mustache came. He looked exactly like John Lannigan, the obnoxious Cleveland radio icon. He was driving a Volkwagen bug, the old kind. He took me away in it. Everyone was crying but I was not, because what was the problem anyway?
My New york cousin, Ava, on my dad's side, writes and advice blog. And I got to thinking about how her dad, is my dad's brother. How I could have gotten her dad and she could have gotten my dad. Is gotten really a word? If it is, it is old english. There's no way it's French.
My dad's parents didn't just have five children, they had seven. And all of them are boys, except the youngest. My dad was the oldest. Neither he nor any of his siblings are named after either of their parents.
So you have my dad, who is dead.
Then you have Ned, my cousin Ethan's dad. Ned looks just like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. He and his wife are hippie back-to-the-landers. They bought some property and sawed down the trees and built a house with the bark still on. Ethan had a bunkbed with the bark still on. Ned makes apple pies with the skin still on. And he and his wife are STAUNCH REPUBLICANS. I just don't get it.
Next we have Pat. Rachel, Gideon, and Dylan's dad. When I was young I thought he was funny, but as an adult I see he is obnoxiuos and has ADD. Still, he's been married to his second wife like 30 years, so he might be a pretty good dad.
Number four is Mark, who's Leah and Ben's dad. He was an alcoholic for twenty years, had back problems, is sober now but was on methadone for a decade for the back pain. He and his wife are poor and live small. Ben says Mark used to beat him every day, which I believe is partially true. Leah and Ben are both alcoholics and are both divorced. Mark looks just like John Mellencamp, and while I hope John Mellencamp dies in a fire, Mark is my favorite uncle.
Son five is Ward; Camille, Ava, and Chloe's dad. Ward is a Fullbright scholar and looks like David Bowie. He was my favorite uncle as a child, but as an adult I disliked his effeminateness. About ten years ago his mother died, and a year later his father died. About a year after that, Ward divorced his wife and moved to New York City with his boyfriend. I don't know if he had the boyfriend or the divorce first. He is on good terms with all his daughters and I think he is a mostly good dad.
The youngest son is Joey, April's dad. He dated his girlfriend for like twenty years and I think only married her when they got pregnant with April. He and his wife live in Florida and April lives in New york City. Of all my uncles, Joey cried the most at his mother's funeral. I have no idea if he's a good dad or not.
Last in the birth order is my aunt Marie. She was the fat one and suffered a lot I think, having six brothers and a mean father. I had a lot of fun with her when I was a child, but as an adult I think she is an aspie. She never left her parents' home even after they died, and over the years became morbidly obese. She has no children.
So I am the child of the dead one. So are my half-sister Hope, who is miserably married and lives in Rochester, and my half-brother Jason, who is also married and lives in Boston. People don't say "half-sister" or "half-brother" anymore. Everybody has a brother from another mother or equivalent. But when I was little, other kids would say, "What's a half-brother? Does he have no legs?" They never asked me, "What's a half-sister," because Hope's mother never told her who her father was until the random age of 29.
Before I met her, Hope told me that she has one blue eye and one brown eye. She said the dad who raised her used to force discounts on their family photos by asking the photographer why his child had one blue eye and one brown eye in the pictures. I think he was a bad father. And I wondered how Hope could have one blue eye and one brown eye, like a Siberian Husky. When I met Hope, I saw she does not. She has brown eyes, and one eye has a blue spot in it.
I have a son. When he was born, he had blue eyes, but they got darker, and now he has brown eyes. His left eye has a blue spot in it, specifically in the 7 o'clock position. When he talks to me I look at the blue spot and I think to myself, someday you'll have a girlfriend, and when you talk to her, she'll look at that blue spot in your eye.
Hope has a son and a daughter. I will look at their eyes when I see them. Jason has a son, whose eyes I also have not seen. Stupid economy.
Obviously the blue spot gene is my father's. That is his position in my life. My mother apparently lives within a half hour of my house, but I don't care.