My life story part 9

Fast Food and Condolences

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Source

I can remember being offered copious amounts of fast food for months immediately proceeding my mother's death. McDonald's this and Subway that was to be served daily by strangers. My mother had just died in the worst way possible and the only assurances I could get was greasy, lazy and half fast food and a "Don't worry hun, she died quickly as the impact alone killed her instantly." None of this helped. I looked at my sister in disdain for taking this food because I viewed it as too easy of a way into our now shattered hearts. More often than not I would refuse all of these offerings and sheltered myself even further from those who would make offerings to me like I was a caged animal whose acceptance was easily gained with food.

I was surrounded by a lot of my mom's friends in the days and weeks following my Mother's death. Her childhood friend Sandra was close by as she flew or drove in from Arizona to be with us. Sandra was very close to my Mother at one point in time during a period of her life. We only visited her once in California as children. I can vaguely remember visiting her and her visiting us when she lived in Las Vegas but not entirely sure. I had one of the most of many terrifying near-death experiences of my life because of her. She was visiting Las Vegas back when windows would open in hotel/casinos. I think I was 6 or 7 years old when she dangled me halfway out the window so as to have my torso with my head first hanging out the window. With my legs kicking it the air the only thing preventing me from falling was her arms gripping me tight and following her commands to stop kicking. Meanwhile, her room was on the 17th floor. I think this was at the Excalibur in the early 90s but not exactly sure. Her love was always genuine and thick if you will. She may have been Mexican but Native American seems to be what I can recall. She always seemed like a long lost aunt that never really was. She was fun and always positive and as a kid, my siblings and I, for whatever reason, fully trusted her so much that at least in my particular case trusted her immensely, even with dangling me out a window 17 floors up! 😮

I view the events after my mother's death as a big theatrical event. I could tell many questions were not being asked and it was all about saying the right things on cue. All these people who I barely knew were all around me. I had been by my mother's side for 11 years almost exactly as she passed only nine days after my birthday, yet most of these people were my mother's closest friends and I knew just a few. Tom, her former boss, at the Gallery of Natural History in Las Vegas I knew of very well. My mother's job seemed to always be on the line as she would have to call in sick a lot it seemed from being couch-ridden. Her boss would always call to check in on her and make sure she was coming to work, I guess. I had very clear but not grounded assumptions that Tom knew what was going on in our house and because of that I trusted him, also my mother always spoke highly of him even when she wasn't happy with him for petty things at work.

My best friend Aron Kolstead was amazing during this time. I didn't need anyone's half-hearted fast food condolences I needed a friend to play with, to watch T.V. with, to just hanging out with to have some sense of normalcy. I had become isolated from all of these strangers who so boldly claimed to be my mother's friends but yet not even her own parents knew but did have suspicions of any kind of abuse. Where did these people get off throwing fast food at me and saying things like 'I know you're going through a lot but it will get better' or the ever classic "Awe you poor thing" the latter didn't help with my perception that I was only viewed as some sort of animal or alien who was now forever scarred. It was like I had invisible bars around me. No longer was I your average awkward 11 years old anxiously awaiting a daily bike ride in the desert after school or his first chest hairs! I was branded as an animal and I was halfway to being a full-on an orphan. Yet no one had answers just grand gestures and cheap greasy food that always made me sick.

I can remember being asked if I wanted to go to my mother's wake/viewing. She was to be cremated and this was my last chance to view her. I had wholeheartedly refused to go. My dad pleaded that I go and that it was because I was the Child who most embodied my mother and her spirit. I was her favorite and it was very obvious to my father especially since he left it up to me to clean up his wrath by nurturing my mother back to health each time he ravaged her body with his fists that were perhaps as big as her head. She was 5'0" on a good day and he was 6'1" who was naturally built like a redwood tree.

Somehow I had been officially been awarded Ambassador to my mother's spirit and total overall embodiment. As this was constantly thrown in my face by my father to get me to go to the wake I had to use this same spirit I was now officially the owner of to turn down his pleas. I was not going to succumb to any further manipulations he was trying to cast on my mother's spirit. No one knew what pain my mother was in but my father and I. I was not about to contribute to his bullshit at least in a room full of strangers. Ironically enough in possession of this spirit, I had its same karma. A story or rather a plea for help that no one would understand without putting my own life in jeopardy. Truly there was only one person who I felt loved me anymore, knew what I was/have been going through, to protect my siblings and ourselves and yet he was our greatest threat to us and himself. It was 1996 in Las Vegas, and I was unknowingly entrapped into some kind of mob situation where my greatest friend was also my greatest enemy who had all the power. The only thing one can do was keep their mouth shut.

Taking cues I learned from my mother on how to handle a grizzly bear of a man my father was, I made sure to only be defiant in my dad's presence, in front of people and with soft tones. This only worked when my Dad wasn't drinking, wanted to leave the house or like mentioned when people are around. Luckily people were around and I was left to hang out with my best friend while everyone went to the wake.

Aron and I were there home alone as 12 and 11-year-olds. He kept asking me various questions about what it was like and how come I wasn't sad, as my outward emotions were reserved and a part of me felt as much relieved as I was alone. Her pain that I felt daily was gone. I was left with only a weird emptiness and sense of relief. Still, though it felt as if my soul was missing a key piece of itself no matter how much pain it was going through before it had vacated my emotional existence, it was missed nonetheless. Yet I closed my eyes I could see this light that wasn't there before. Bright white light would encompass the darkness when closing my eyes and I could see that piece of soul when thinking of my mother. Through the blinding white light, an image of my mother would bleed through until I could see the beautiful pasture full of wildflowers and a beautiful sun in the background emerge forth. The sky seemed kind of white for some reason. This would calm my mind anytime anyone asked about my mother or my mental state especially, when having images of my mother's body mangled in that bathtub of hers, flash into my mind at random moments in time. I could see that she was there in my mind somewhere and no longer in pain and the happiest she had ever been. I wasn't sure if this was all in my head or not until later in life. I mean, was these images those of heaven or some mental construct I created? It wasn't fair though as she only ever had one thing to communicate to me in this fantasy world, heaven or not and that was a message to help people. She was now gone and distant, yet I had awareness of her within myself and had been awarded the bearer of her spirit by her oppressor. Knowing she was happy and pain-free was enough to tell people I'm fine or I don't know when prompted to explain my feelings. Only a few understand this, to this day and most just want to know as if they were trying to watch a car accident while not being in one just to drive off.

Source

Part 1
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story

Part 2
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-pt-2

Part 3
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-pt-3

Part 4
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-part-4

Part 5
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-part-5

Part 6
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-part-6

Part 7
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-part-7

Part 8
https://steemit.com/autobiography/@dynamicgreentk/my-life-story-part-8

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