Every.Single.Time.

As I have said in previous posts, the true memories of my Mom coming in and out of my life started when I was around 8 or 9 years old.  I am not really certain about the order my memories happened during these pop-up visits that happened.

I do remember a few different guys coming home with her when she visited and the arguments that would happen when my Mom would call and tell my Grandparents that she wanted to come home.  She would ask if my Grandpa could come and pick her up from here or there.

I remember a time when she called stating she was this place or that, please come and pick me up. Grandma would say "Jim, don't go, you don't know who she has with her" "you don't know if the person she has with her will stab you or something".  My Grandpa did care though.  He would say "well, someone has to do it" "Someone has to pick her up".  Everyone would stay up for hours waiting for him to come back home.  He drove a blue Chevy truck to go and pick up my Mom and whatever friend she decided to bring home during the visits.  My Grandpa loved my Mom very much and would do whatever he could to bring her home. Every. Single. Time.

My grandparents owned a camper that would be put on the back of the truck bed when we would go on camping trips.  One time when she came home with a male friend my Mom and her boyfriend were allowed to stay in the camper to sleep.  As I have stated previously, I wanted so badly to be around my Mom and right by her side every second of every day while she was visiting that I begged if I could sleep in the camper with them.  I showed them how to make the beds in the camper (folding down the couch etc.).  She let me stay with them for a night.  Did I tell you that my Mom was not considerate and she would do absolutely anything a man wanted to keep that man?  She was addicted to them almost as much as she was addicted to drugs.

Well, that night after I begged to sleep with them in the camper, we all went to sleep.  They took the bunk area of the camper, you know the little itty bitty 1-2 foot space that would sit on top of the truck roof when on the truck?  I took the couch/bed underneath of them to sleep. However, that night again not thinking of her kid, my Mom and her boyfriend had sex above me.  Not considering that I was below them.  I think I was 8 or maybe 9 during that visit. 

I don't know when she left, or how she left.  I know that she would only stay for a little period with every visit and leave just as quickly as she came.  And I would hear my Grandpa in his "office" (bathroom) crying. Every. Single. Time.

Steve

Sometimes when I am either traveling along my morning commute or if I am walking down the street to and from work, I may see someone who reminds me of my older brother Steve.  It usually is someone's blue eyes and dirty blond hair that makes me take a second look wondering if this man is him or not.

I do feel as though I would recognize him, though if it was him.  But sometimes I think to myself, "Would I know if it was him if I bumped into him?".

Steve has sky blue eyes and a relaxed stare that could draw anyone in.  My earliest memories with Steve is when he would come to our house to visit during the summer or over a weekend.  I think I was around eight or nine years old when he first started coming around again.  He would be dropped off, but I am not sure who dropped him off.  I don't have a clear recollection of my so-called father dropping him off.  However, I had the fondest memories when he was around.  When we were young, I always felt as though I needed to hug him or touch him.  I am not sure if it was a need I had that when I touched him or was fulfilling a missing part of me?  Or was it because he was my brother and it was extraordinary when he visited.

Probably 75' or 76'

My Grandpa just loved it when Steve would come to visit.

My Grandpa and Steve

  My Grandparents had four girls and then raised me, so when Steve came to visit, it was indeed a treat for him.  I think Steve also enjoyed visiting because we lived in the country with 5 acres of land surrounded by woods.  Steve grew up in the city.   I think he enjoyed being able to run around, be surrounded by the cows and chickens, and then go across the street to the river to play in the river.

I am not sure how or who made plans for him to come around and visit.  He did visit probably once a year until I was old enough to graduate.  It was hard to talk to him in-between the summers.  Steve was never good at communication.  By that, I mean, he rarely called to see how we were doing.  Steve has never grown out of that problem he has with communication.  He just came and went whenever he pleased.  It was always a surprise when we got the phone call that he was coming to visit. 

Love's Baby Soft

          After my Mom left me, I have a few scattered memories of me being with her in her house or apartment here and there during my young years.  I don't know if the memories were during certain weekends when I went and visited her or what happened. I am not sure if I went and lived with her for a certain time or what.

      I do know that my Mom came and often went throughout my childhood.  A lot of those times she would come and go when I was really small was when the location was "down below" (south of Alpena).  My Mom would either be in Lansing or Jackson.  However, sometimes she would take off to Phoenix or sometimes California.

     Some of the earliest memories that I have with my Mom are in her apartment; I think it was in Lansing.  I believe I was around 3 or 4 years old.  I remember when I used to climb up on the counters and get the parmesan cheese out of the cabinets  (I still love parmesan cheese).  I also remember when my Mom was taking a bubble bath, and she called me into the bathroom for some odd reason.  She called me Baby Girl.  I can still hear her voice.  I do remember her smell.  Her smell was unique.  She wore baby-soft roll-on perfume and smoked Kool menthol light cigarettes.

  To this day, I may catch a scent that will make me turn my head to see if my Mom is walking around the corner.  I also do remember my younger brother Armando being brought home.  Either I remember it, or it was a photo that made me think I remembered it.

     I do remember the phone calls each Christmas.  My Mom would call each Christmas Eve.  All of my Aunts and Grandparents would be on pins and needles because Susie was going to call.  The first complaint was because she would be calling collect. The next would be, "Why does she need to do this every year! Susie always has to ruin Christmas".  This is what I heard my Aunts say about my Mom every year.  I guess they forgot all about Susie's daughter hearing each and every word that was being said about my Mom.  Of course, they didn't think about how it would make me feel.  You see, I wanted nothing more than to hear my Mom.  I wanted to listen to her voice.  When I was young, I didn't want anything more to listen to my Mom's scratchy, horse, whiny but cool, voice say "Hey babygirl."