HOW MOMS BID WITH THE FEDS KIND OF MESSED ME UP

Can you imagine being nine years old, playing with barbies in your bed room until suddenly , some random woman rushes you out of your own house like the world is about to end? I can, because I was that nine year old little girl. She wasn’t my mom. I have never seen her. I still don’t know who the hell she was today. I was alone at the house with my three siblings at the time. My older sister and two brothers. She shoved the four of us in the back seat of her car. She didn’t talk to us. She was shaking, rushing, and speeding down the streets of Houston. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. All I can remember was the way that I felt. I felt sick to my stomach. I knew something was wrong especially because my mother was not around. She is all I wanted. “Wheres my mommy? I want my mommy? I’m scared where’s my mommy? Where are you taking us?” She finally responded. “Your going to Rhode Island with your father.” I responded, “But I want my mom. I don’t want to go with him. Wheres mommy?”. Next thing you know, I was on an airplane with just my brother Mikey by my side. My older sister and other brother went on a different airplane. All I could do was stare. I was numb. I had no control of anything. It didn’t take long to figure out that I would no longer be with them.

We landed in Rhode Island. My brother and I all alone, at 9 and 7 years old, going down the escalators and there was my dad. Waiting for us. He didn’t look happy. He looked more like, broken. I can tell something serious was wrong but he would not say a thing. Finally he spoke up. He told my brother and I that my mother was on vacation. I didn’t believe it. There was just no way my mother was on a vacation. My mother wasn’t perfect, but she would never go have fun without us. Nah. I knew someone was lying. The days passed and I just wouldn’t leave from the top twin bed bunk that I was sleeping on. I couldn’t sleep. Why hasn’t my mother called me ? I thought to myself. She loves me so much. I know it. I feel it. Why doesn’t she care to look for me? Eventually, my father could no longer stand seeing me depressed. My brother was kind of chilling. He was closer to my dad. But not me. My mom was my heart. I couldn’t live without her. My dad came into the room and said to my brother and I , ” Tu mama no va venir. Perdoname mis hijitos. Tu mama esta en la carcel”. He said my mother wasn’t going to come back. He said Im sorry my little children. Your mother is in jail…….. I reacted. “What? When is she getting out !” 10 years he said. 10 fucking years. I cant even put into words the way that I felt hearing that. I am literally feeling the same pain I felt when I lost my mother, right now, as I am typing away. My heart was ripped right out of me. I felt the blackest, deepest hole right in the center of my chest. I cried so much, my throat hurt. I was choking on my own saliva. Drowning in my tears. I felt shocking pain radiating through my entire body. Eventually, I fell asleep, woke up, and the pain began all over again. I couldn’t fucking breathe. It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. My eyes were so fucking swelled up, I could barely see. My vision was blurry. Never underestimate the pain a child is capable of feeling.

I was never mad at my mother.It never even came to mind. It wasn’t until now, at 27 years old, that I find myself blaming her for my mistakes. And she doesn’t deserve it. My mother has always been the absolute most lovable, warming, sweetest woman. She loved us so much. Cant no one tell me otherwise. Yes, she dealt with drugs and guns. But it was to give us a better life. I know many of ya wont understand, but I do and thats what matters. I was there when my mother would cry on the sofa with her head buried in between her knees, crying so hard. All I could do was hug her. We were broke. I remember helping her tape garbage bags in place of windows on the little hooptie that she drove. She couldn’t afford to fix the windows. They wouldn’t roll up so we had to tape them up instead. I had my own pillow and blanket in the back for every-time that i felt cold. She had to do what she had to do. She refused to give us up, or send us off to our dads. So she hustled. Once she began to transport. I’ll admit, it wasn’t the best. My siblings and I jumped from strangers house, to strangers house and I suffered other things along the way but that didn’t matter to me. Because eventually, my mother would be back. And that made it all worth it. She’d come back with so many gifts every single time. The newest timberlands, ceramic tea sets, sparkly shirts, real gold chains, hundred dollar bills. You name it, we had it all. It still didn’t make up for every time she would go away, but it was enough. Because again, she was my mommy. The only person that truly loved me, protected me and held me like no one else has ever had. She played and laughed with us all day. She had me in Taekwondo and in private piano lessons. I can still play. We eventually had houses in Atlanta, New York, and Texas. We were spoiled. We had cookies and milk every night before bed. I lived in Houston, Texas at the time that my mother got bagged up by the feds. Houston is where I was supposed to continue to be raised. It didn’t work out that way but Houston will always be special to me. Always. Houston holds my only true memories as a child. The only ideal child hood that I had, was in Houston with my mother and siblings. Everything changed when I got to Providence.

I wasn’t too close to my father when I first went to live with him so it was awkward as hell. I hated it. He had a girl friend at the time, and she had her kids. We shared a bedroom, along with my brother Mikey. Every time her and my father would get into a fight, she wouldn’t fail to bring up my mother. To talk shit about her right in front of me. And she was actually very good to me. At a point, I believed she really loved me like her own. It comforted me. She was the closest thing to a mother figure. But the way she would switch up so quickly, I couldn’t handle it. I had to choose and I chose my mom. I couldn’t allow anyone to disrespect her. I was a rebel by then too, I wont lie. I got into fights at school all the time. I would walk right out the side doors whenever I felt like it, skipping like half the day at school. I ran from the principles. Threw rocks at the teachers with my boys. Detention was regular to me. I went to about 3 different schools in one school year alone, from getting kicked out of them. I just couldn’t always pretend to be that sweet happy normal little girl that I was anymore. I was easily triggered. Especially when it came to my mother. Once, I heard her call my mom a hoe and I just couldn’t quite understand why she would talk so horrible and hate someone who has done nothing to her, who cant even defend herself, and who is already suffering. It was plain evil to me. I couldn’t stand it though. So I hit her. I was maybe 11 or 12 at the time. She hit me back. My father interfered. And long story short, he sent me to live in the projects with an aunt. He kept my brother though. He said I was “intolerable” and caused him too many problems. He was right though, I’ll admit. I exploded whenever someone would mention my mother. I had serious anger issues. I was completely, emotionally unstable. I still kind of am , even today. But it was so bad at the time. My father couldn’t even raise his voice at me, because anytime I felt threatened, I snapped. Once, I slammed my brothers glass soccer trophy on the ground , right at him and my brother. I screamed from the top of my lungs how I know he loves my brother more than me. I then took shoe and decked it at my brother, causing him to bleed a whole lot out of his neck. So yeah, I can see why at the time, he chose her over me. Of course I expected him to love me unconditionally. Especially since I was not only his daughter, but his first child too. But everyone makes mistakes. He eventually left her and apologized and he became the first man I have ever truly loved. I became a daddy’s girl. He has never left my side since then. We are still very close today. I cant wait to see his face as I cross the stage graduating with my bachelors degree in nursing. I cant wait to make him so proud. Someone go tell pops it’s almost time.

How about my mother? I know you wonder. Well she came back to me eventually. To me, and my siblings, and her grandkids. She lives in Rhode Island, only a few minutes from me. She is still the sweetest , most lovable mother to ever exist. I wouldn’t change anything about my past, or about her. She is my best friend. She helps me with nursing school. You would never know everything she went through because she is so patient and gentle. I came out strong as hell, because of her.

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