Margie has died….

Margies memories pick up after the move to Big Springs, Texas… a town built on the oil and gas industry with a smell that permeates the air… with a little Air Force training base called Webb, which closed down in 1977 the year I entered the Air Force…

Her memories pick up at junior high, though the grade is not known… a singing contest where she sang a Lullaby, her rating, a sweet voice with a need for confidence…

The next memory is going to the little theatre up the street to see Gone With the Wind, she sat through the movie through 2 showings… that desperate to stay out of the house is my assumption…

By now we are into May and I know this only because I entered a radio contest for mother’s day for a dozen roses…

RadioContestRosesForMomByMargie

Which I won… In hindsight, she never deserved it… the next memory that comes to mind, mom & dad are having their usual tit for tat and I get asked a question in anger… “Margaret, why did dad & I have to get married?”… my reply, “because you got pregnant with me”, her response, “you want to get slapped”… I remember all of us kids were at the dinning room table eating and I vaguely remember my half-brother being there… we were at the ages of 15 half brother, me 12, sis 10, brother 6, brother 3 a baby on the way…

The night Margie died, is a hard one to write about, but lets see if it triggers anymore memories…

The baby had been born, that was not dads… so I would be 13 now… dad as always was working a 2nd job at the bowling alley I think… the night was hot, as it was summer, the smell of the refinery strong in the windless air…

All us kids were in bed and I awoke to mom bitching at dad, when he came in from his 2nd job late at night…

The arguing escalated and I have a picture that was always frozen in time in my mind, but plays like a video now… my older brother and I came out of our bedrooms because the yelling turned into fists hitting flesh…

I remember screams and words that were spoken and that could not be erased… the fight was over the baby in the background crying… I remember mom saying don’t let him get to the baby, the him was dad…

I remember my brother trying to get in between the 2 adults and getting hurt, so I made my way into the fray…

I saw mom hit the floor and I saw my brother being beaten, I fought with all the strength that a 70 pound child has and succumb to oblivion as the blows were turned upon me…

I have no more memories of Texas… not the birth of the new baby, not holidays, not turning 13… In fact that night Margie died…

Within a year we were sent to Japan and there are a couple of memories before the move… Mom’s mother had died, so we were left in the care of someone… I was covered in bruises from my feet to my head, no one at school did anything…

I remember our stopping at Alines and Lee’s on our way to Japan and I went to a base to visit the wounded with a cousin…

I remembered dad left for Japan and we stayed in a dive, barely able to have food on the table… I babysit for someone and took the money to buy groceries… I brought home a cut up chicken and other supplies… my mother’s response, “you should have bought a whole chicken it’s cheaper”… I was 13, I had no clue about such things, I was just tired of being hungry…

By the fall of 1968 we were in Japan… within a very short time I pissed off mom and dad beat me again… my brain, not healed from the trauma in 67 was injured again… I have very few memories of the 2 years we lived off base…. I have only a couple of memories of high school… I do not remember moving on base… I remember the first guy I dated, but not much… I remembered one girl, who slept over for my 16th birthday, she was african american…

I do not remember the move to Okinawa and I have a hand full of memories for there…

At 17, I made a comment to dad as I was leaving the house, I think mom and dad were arguing… I was knocked several feet across the room on my knees that became severely rug burned… I heard mom say, “You shouldn’t have done that”… as I picked myself up and left for the bowling alley for my league…

A few months later we were on our way back to the U.S.  Dad’s mom was supposedly ill so it was a humanitarian reassignment… she lived for another 20 years…

I left home as soon as I was able upon our return… Now 18, I was no longer a pawn in the game of hit and destroy in the house that was never a home…

I can’t tell you about any Christmas during those 18 years… I can tell you about my 16th birthday, but just barely… 

I can’t tell you about my siblings, I have very few memories if any….

I left that household not knowing I had suffered multiple brain injuries… I left not knowing how I even graduated from school and how I earned that diploma… I had always been told by mom that I was a poor student… which is ironic… The El Paso Psych exam in 2011 says I have above average IQ…

The death of Margie isn’t a tragic story… It is one that is repeated daily in households all over this planet…

All in the name of man-made religions like Christianity, Islam, Buddhism and many more…

Just so people can play god with the lives of children…

Times Up #MeToo

I Remember….