A Mother for Thanksgiving

When I found about Sue, Jennifer's mother, I became very excited, The very idea of a mother inspired me to win her affection. Had the back story been told to me, my approach might have been different. Although she had been living with her own choices and mistakes she seemed to have learned nothing- only cementing herself into her attitude and uncompromising opinions. One of those opinions was that Jen should not have become separated from her children's father no matter the "dirtails" that she was aware of or the many secrets that Jenny kept since she is such a "private person."
 Had I known the true definition of the quoted terms I would have remained private myself- private interests, private friendships, private sexual specialties reserved for the deserving, private trade, private nightlife, private relatives, private finances, not to mention private identity from everyone she knew and hung out with.

Hindsight surely is crisp and clear, and it teaches so much. Why do we become amnesiacs when we finally meet someone new? The dire want for Love is like a magnet on a cassette tape, destroying everything recorded, leaving only bits and a huge disorder that rearranges all you're use to hearing- silencing the best parts, memory clearing. Your empty lonely heart is fearing never having someone to share with- someone's hand to hold and care with, and to warm each others soul. Spark plus tender tinder equals glow, to feel completion and feel whole- passing on together what you know so that the world can have it too in fairness. And when we're gone they will all know that we were as far as you can get from "I could care less." That is how I want to go. Don't want my stone to need the message that, "I loved you with my heart, in whole."

And as I write these words they are all for them even though they do not deserve another one of my sincere thoughts: 'Screw you. Screw your cell phone, your snap-chatting, your disgruntled single co-workers, your screwed up family, mother, and your selfish ungrateful screwed up attitudes.
Screw your wasted opportunity with your dad's grave money that all of you are pissing on, your stinking idea of what a parent is, your mushroom button penis punk pissing all over the bathroom, your internet abuse, your slovenly lifestyle, and your spur of the moment sex partner turned parent of your children. Screw you and your lies, lies about me, your lies to my family and friends, your wasting of every cent that I gave you and the bad trash reputation that you're developing in the wake of sewage you left behind us.
I cannot allow myself to be used anymore but I can't seem to let you use me any less. Just remember that I had nothing to do with your daughter getting a sex change. And remember I had nothing to do with the helplessness of your boy, who, if he fell into a barrel of titties, he'd  come up sucking his thumb'.

Those were the words I had written in one of my letters never sent. And as much as I would like to put it behind me and move on, I cannot. My driver's license, gun rights, marijuana card, and an amount of expense is still accumulating. Probation will not be over until June of 2018. Urine screens at the cheapest place I can find are 30 bucks x twice a month. That's $660 more, on top of the five grand it has already cost me simply because she doesn't want to negotiate as to how to manage finances and family. I won't see my license or other rights until I am 52.

These people were sand in the hourglass that has brought me to a future of lacking- a future that was here for me all along but they denied me to have what awaited me. It was kept hidden from me by keeping me busy with the disaster that was a virus out of control. I will always fight for what is right, never waiting for someone to guide me. I am willing to be the captain, to guide those around me to safety, to go down with the ship if that's what it takes in order to see to it that no one is left aboard to die on a foundering vessel in life.