Lord must have a plan for me because I'm still here. I didn't expect to be tho. I expected to die. Especially after I called the local PD for help and the officer dispatched to my home blew me off. Said they couldn't do anything because she hadn't threatened me directly and some other crap. Basically he said they couldn't do anything until I was dead. I was in my twenties with two young children. I didn't want to die. But I prepared to.
About a week after that talk with the officer who didn't bother to write a report and blew me off, my monster, I mean mother, was arrested by an undercover detective and charged with Conspiracy to Commit Agrivated Murder. My mother owned her own gun. Seems she didn't want to use it because it was registered and she didn't want it to be traced back to her. So, she attempted to buy a gun off the streets that couldn't be traced back to her. The undercover detective had made an offer to dispatch me himself for a modest fee. But my loving monster, excuse me, mother, declined his offer. She told him she wanted the pleasure of seeing my face as she put two bullets in my head herself. I feel so loved. Can you feel the love people?
About a year or so before this my father had moved to South Carolina as part of his retiring from drug dealing and pimping. He had informed me that they were really hurting for teachers and I figured while my mother was incarcirated was a good time to relocate. So I went down for a visit and attended a teacher recuitement seminar and obtained a teaching position for the following school year. I was sad to be leaving my job at the YWCA, but looking forward to a fresh start.
Except teaching in South Carolina didn't go well. From my experience, Southern hospitality is a myth. They still seem to be upset over loosing the Civil War. And my students' parents hated me. Apparently, they didn't want "no damn mixed yanky girl teachen" their 'childrens nothin." I decided I need a new career.
I decided to become a truck driver. But as a single parent with two school age children I needed assistance to attempt thjs. My father agreed that we could move in with him and he would look after my children for me while I was establishing myself as a truck driver. After I had obtained at least two years of over the road experience I would be eligible for local driving jobs that would let me come home every night.
It's really sad. I made more in one year as a truck driver, no college education required, than I did as a school teacher. We can pay a man millions of dollars to chase a ball up and down a field or a court and put it in a hole, a hoop or a goal. But we don't value the education of our children enough to pay their teachers a decent wage. And sad that people would be more concerned about a teacher's racial and geographical background than the fact that they're a good teacher.
I really enjoyed truck driving but I only got to do it one year. Remember? I trusted my father to care for the two most precious things in all of existence for me, my two children.
I love my father very much. He may have been absent from my life alot but I had a lot of respect for him. He was who he was and he made no apologies for it. Selling drugs and pimping were simply my daddy's job. Maybe your daddy was a doctor, lawyer or mechanic. That's very nice for you. I knew what he did was illegal but that was just the way it was. That was normal for me. He had never been mean or cruel to me. I had always felt I was special to him. He has never even once spanked me. Occassionally, there would be an off-color remark from him but that was to be expected. I understood that you had to take half of what he said with a grain of salt and the other half was just bullshit.
But he was retired from all that nonsense. He even got a real J. O. B. I really love my daddy. And I used to have a lot of respect for him. After all, he rarely drank and didn't abuse drugs himself. Number one rule for being a successful drug dealer is not to be a drug addict yourself. You can't make it if your using your own product.
Ah, but there would be a price to pay for my love and trust for my father. I just thought it would be monetary. I paid him $500 a month to care for my children and he had access to my checking account in case anything else was needed. I thought everything was fine. At least everything had seemed fine when I came home for my down time. But my daughter would pay the price for the love and trust I had in my father. I just didn't want to believe it. It wasn't part of his M.O. Turns out I'm no more special to my father than shit on his shoe.
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