I Got Robbed!

     When I wrote the last blog, I thought I remembered my last memory before my Mom was on her way to prison.  However, this memory slapped me in the brain when I was driving home from an appointment.

     I am not sure if my Mom came back one more time after her stint in rehab or if it was the next year.  I just cannot remember, and I cannot remember which scenarios can exactly put "two-n-two" together.  However, I can remember this particular time that sticks out well, and why I am so protective of my things that I worked hard for and paid for myself.....

     This time when she was home, she knew a trucker.  He was a nice guy.  He was an older man, not anything special; he was just a plain guy that drove rigs.  She did mention one time that she knew him because she has gotten rides from him before.  

     She stayed with us for a little while. I remember taking her to the Alpena Mall to walk her around; the funny thing about this adventure to the great mall (it is actually a tiny mall with about 10 stores 😁) is that I wanted to be seen with her. I wanted someone to see me with my Mom.  I was only known for living with my Grandparents, so I wanted people to know I had a Mom.  I actually thought my Mom was so beautiful.  I wanted people to see my beautiful Mom. Even though a few of her teeth were starting to fall out. There were no people my age that day at the mall.  I didn't get the chance to show her off.  On that visit, she actually got her hair cut also.  She got a crazy haircut; it was what was "in" in the 90s. I think it was an asymmetrical haircut, short and spiky on one side and then got longer as it went around the head.  

     After staying with us for a little while,  she went and lived with the trucker for a little while.  She had a way to seduce and use men who were not real "lookers" and not rich, just ordinary men who worked hard for their money.  She could get these men to give her stuff.  The trucker is one of those guys, basically a good-guy from what I know.  He had his own house, so that was a good thing....right?  She probably got some money from him to get whatever she wanted or needed.  I remember at one time during this visit home, she came back to the house to get a few bags (trash bags) of clothes, and then she was gone. 

     When I looked in my closet later, I noticed that she loaded that trash bag with my clothes!  She filled it with my jeans,  shirts, and sweaters! And then I found that she stole my good boots that were expensive! Expensive for me because I had to work hard for them.  I was pissed!  I was robbed by my damn Mom! It really pissed me off because I worked so hard over the summer to buy those clothes, and I loved those boots!

    To this day, if someone takes anything that is mine without me giving it to them, or if they ruin something that is mine that I worked hard for and earned, I will have a really hard time trusting them again.  

      

What Happened Next?

      What happened next?  The day after I noticed her hands shaking in the bathroom?  My Aunt Angie, her husband Tim, and their daughter came over.  I want to say it was late afternoon because it was still daylight outside and at the time of the year the sun would go down pretty early.  

      My Grandpa had this God-awful looking chair that I think may have been a rocking recliner. The color of the chair was sorta a baby pea puke color with a hint of gold in the stitching of the material. My Grandma put out a nice spread of things to eat.  My Aunt Angie was making a plate for herself and her daughter around the table and my Mom was sitting in my Grandpa's chair (please make a note....not too many people were allowed to sit in his chair).  Everyone was getting some food and my Grandma asked my Mom if she was going to get something to eat.  My Mom says she wasn't feeling too well so she wasn't going to eat anything at that time.  Before you know it, you hear a whoomp! My Mom actually fell over in the chair, she laid on the floor still sitting in the chair however, the back of the chair was on the floor and her legs were facing the ceiling.  

     We rushed her to the ER in Alpena.  They took my Mom back and the only thing I could remember hearing was that the nurse was trying to find a vein due to my Mom's veins in her arms were actually calloused overdue to the drug use.  They needed to find the vein or a good vein because  she needed to be rehydrated and possibly something else to lessen the side effects of withdrawal.  I think this is when she found out that she, or maybe more like “we” her family found out that she was infected with Hepatitis C.  When you look up how a person gets Hep C., basically it is like AIDS, most common transmittal of the disease is from sharing needles or from unprotected sex, & at that time there was not a medicine to cure or reduce the affects of the disease.  Basically a person will eventually die.  

     I don't remember if she came home or if she went directly to a rehab home in Traverse City.  I do know she went to rehab first and then onto a half-way house to assist with  transitioning  her from drug use to a "normal" life without drugs and maybe how to be a successful productive sober member of society.   The house did have a curfew and there were rules and regulations that needed to be abided by.  I don't remember visiting when she was in the rehab home however, she was successful in completing the entire rehab.  I do remember visiting her a couple of times while she was at the half-way house.  She did make a friend of a young girl that was just a year or two out of high school. I remember this because when I went to visit my Grandma brought up to my Mom that I was asked to go to prom.  The girl said that she had a prom gown I could borrow because she had just worn it a few years ago to her prom.  (please see the previous post about this memory and myself going to prom 😉)

     I believe my Mom was actually kicked out of the halfway house because she left when she was not supposed to. Basically, there is only one-strike-and-your-out bylaws.  She didn't come home after this occasion because the next time I remember hearing from her was when she was back in Phoenix.  After this occasion, there were not any real visits with my Mom for a few years.  The same ol' phone calls, a few collect calls from a penitentiary and then a couple from Prison in Arizona.  The prison was actually outside of Phoenix.  I know it was past the Good Year area but cannot remember exactly where.  

     With all of the different stints in jails over the years, I guess finally caught up to her and she was prisoned for 2-3 years (can't remember the actual sentence) for breaking her parole. 

Withdrawal

      I had to think really hard I will use this next memory and when it happened. I couldn't remember if it was when I was 14 or 15. I do remember it was after I started my job at Big Boy (I almost spelled it at Big Boys with the 'S" because that is how we pronounce it in Michigan😏) restaurant in St. Ignace.  After thinking about it for a while I figured out that I was 15 and a Sophomore in Highschool because I started working at Big boy the summer when I was 14, just getting ready to turn 15.  I also remember the age of this particular visit because I was asked to go to the prom.  And this prom was was my sophomore year.   

       I don't think it was during Christmas time, like I said before I don't recall her coming home during Christmas or spending a Christmas celebration with us.  It was probably in February or March? When she came home this time, it was still very cold out.  On this visit home, she brought one suitcase and I don't remember a man with her this time.  I remember her coming into the house with the one suitcase and she was allowed to sleep in my aunt's room because my Aunt had married and moved out by then.  My Aunt's room was was actually quite a bit bigger than my room and it had burnt orange carpeting (it was the 80s when we moved in) I was always jealous of my aunt's room because it was closer to the living room and basically warmer. My room was at the end of the hallway of our double-wide house (now referred to as "manufactured home") and my aunt's room was at the beginning of the hallway.  We had a wood stove in the house and my grandpa would put a fan in the back of the woodstove to help push the warm air down the hallway. With my room and my Grandparent's room at the end of the hallway, we didn't get too much of the warm air.  I think I had around four blankets piled on me at night to keep me warm.  Later I got a heated waterbed that helped to keep me warm. 

    I cannot remember what color that suitcase was for the life-of-me however,  I do remember what she had in the suitcase.  She came home very very unhealthy skinny this time and when she unloaded her suitcase I remember she pulled out tall high heels and little what-I-call Bobbysocks which had lace that went around the ankles. The high heels were platform heels with probably a 5-inch high heel. She had some other stockings that were a little bit sexy and of course just a few other things such as her makeup and probably personal items...she was always concerned about her make-up, her Baby Soft perfume for you, and those shoes.  It was funny because at that time I pulled out the shoes and I asked "what kind of shoes are these?" she looked at me and said, "what baby those are just my high heels that's all,  I love my high heels" now if people knew my mom when she was in Michigan my mom didn't wear high heels that damn high too often and those shoes actually looked like "hooker heels" and they basically went with the little bobbysocks you know that hookers wore. From the looks of the contents of her suitcase, she literally brought everything she owned and nothing more.  Right then and there, I knew that my mom was doing things that she was not supposed to be doing on the corner of Van Buren and wherever in Phoenix to get whatever amount of money it took to get to the drugs she was using.  I knew there was something more going on because of her how skinny she was.

    I remember she went to the bathroom and of course, I followed,  she gave me big hug. My mom always had great hugs. She put all of her warmth into her hugs.  (My entire family are good huggers) I remember a lot of her hugs, I can still remember the smell she had with the hugs.  She would have on her leather jacket and I would be able to smell the mixture of leather, cool cigarettes, and her Baby Soft perfume.  This time was a little different with her hug...I could feel her clavicle, scapular bones, ribs, and spine very well. She was so so skinny. She was so skinny that one time she did ask me if she could wear a pair of my jeans (acid washed with a zipper & bow at the ankle) and at that time I think I wore size 1 or  3 and the jeans were way too baggy for her 5'7" frame.  That's how thin she was. 

     The same time we were in the bathroom, I noticed her hands were shaking really bad so I asked her why her hands were shaking. She looked right at me without flinching or trying to think about how to answer and said "I'm going through withdrawal baby" The way she said it was like it was a "normal" thing. There wasn't any waiver in her telling me, no sitting down and explaining what was happening to her. Just point blank as if everyone knew what she was going through like it was a normal everyday thing!  Of course, I actually had absolutely no idea what-in-the-world withdrawal was!  I had no idea......but, the next day I found out exactly what withdrawal is.