Tag: dysfunctional family

Crabs in a Big Brown Bucket

Meet Rafa. He has lived with all of his life until last night.

We are in Costa Rica wondering exactly what happened. But really we know. It’s gonna take a while to process.

Rafa’s Dad came to live with us over twenty years ago. He was living in a man camp. And kept getting fired from all of his jobs. I met him when a man building my fence asked to hire him. When I saw how Nestor held a hammer I knew why he got fired all of the time. I took the hammer from his hand. ‘It’s OK.”

He came to live with us. He got married. He had two children. We lived here like a family. Many things have occurred. We have been through a lot together.

Rafa graduated high school and wanted to go to college. I believe Rafa is an exceptional person with a high I Q.

His parents refuse to let him attend the University. We offered to pay for his tuition. He is now working as a laborer. He is now a laborer who belongs in academia. He wants to be in academia. I didn’t make this up for him.

His parents have moved to a Nicaraguan “hood”.

There is much racism here in Costa Rica. The general consensus is Nicas are not smart. Drunks. The women are loose. And they will never get anywhere. I have experienced a lot of racism dumped on this kid. And now I have seen it dumped on him by his own parents.

Unbelievable. They sincerely believe he needs to stay out of school. No education for Rafa.

Continue reading Crabs in a Big Brown Bucket

The Way They Were

Daily writing prompt
What were your parents doing at your age?
View all responses

Papa rolled his stones. Six feet under and no one was thinking about him. MaMa was hanging on. She rolled in dough. Controlling with the point of a finger, a smile, good food, love, narcotics and alcohol. That’s the way I remember it. That’s two fascinating people right there.

New/Old Story

Morally indefensible – Disrobe your social self – What you reveal and conceal – Luck; residue of design.

I purchased On The Road. A 24 dollar book with miles of entertainment for my brain. I am on page 56; still in the introduction. A foreword describing the process of Jack Kerouac’s writing and publishing. His personal thoughts on what drove him. He was divergent. Something that people for the most part do not want to be. I believe it was natural to him. He was a product of Catholicism, jazz, travel and drugs.

Continue reading New/Old Story

66 – Thoughts on Bull Shit

I called a legitimate sister to discuss yet another sister who has showed up on our 23 and Me Ancestry. I don’t know why she would find it a hard to believe that this is our sister. Joan Ariel. DNA does not lie.

Continue reading 66 – Thoughts on Bull Shit

Angele Dulin

My grandmother. Brought from Paris. (Suresnes, Hauts de Seine, Lee – de – France)

I want to know the story. More. I have scoured ancestry.com and discovered more than I wanted to know, at the time. She was sixteen years old and lied to, by my grandfather. She was a WWII war bride. She went from Paris to Bainbridge Ga. Her name is on the walls of Ellis Island.

What a history my family has.

My father was born into poverty. Deep poverty. He was born into violence, as his father was. That was the excuse for his insanities. He wanted out and he got out. He fought his way out.

We are all still surviving.

My grandmother committed suicide in March 1957. The most popular song of that year was The People of Paris.

How to Create a Character *

You have one man, with volcanic rage, simmering below the surface of his skin. You have one woman who is iron clad and formidable, prepared to protect the family at all cost. Each has their own story, steeped in alcohol, violence and money. Smiles would turn to grimaces – smile, frown – smile, frown – it was a dodge ball game. You would eventually get slammed.

Then take the kid. Twelve years old, eager to please; anxious to get every detail correct.

The man had given orders, “Go saddle up my horse”. Continue reading How to Create a Character *

Forgotten/Not Forgotten

I keep journals. Note books I use them to help me find peace and sort my life out. Thoughts on friends and finances.

I make changes in my life. However, I have the tendency to repeat. When writing things down, it becomes obvious.

The photo on the left is of my friend Connie. She was loved by many people. I had written about being with her when she passed, 2015. In the photo, we were at the funeral of Rachael Sutton. (She initiated Starting Point – you know it or you don’t.)

Connie passed with lung cancer.

As she was dying, she told me stories of her life. They were great stories. She didn’t want anyone to know. They were antics of her mother, Hazel. Poor Hazel.

I never knew Hazel, but I admired her in a way that Connie couldn’t. She wasn’t my mother.

Complicated/Simple

They say keep it simple, stupid. Which is stupid.

If you can live your life successfully and make it look simple, you are a hero. Life is tough as hell. First – your born – and maybe you have the good fortune of doting parents. But many of us don’t. You get kicked around. Filled with anxiety.

Bukowski has a repeated line in one of his poems – people are not good to people – people are not good to people – people are not good to people. Reading this, I felt I knew exactly what he meant. People were not good to me. I was a little fat. I could not speak up for myself. I became prey.

Continue reading Complicated/Simple

Life in General

To be beat unmercifully, is tragic. To be unprotected is sad. To not be acknowledged is a sin.

Trauma – PTSD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder – Gaslighting – Narcicissm – Humiliation – Threats

It’s all common every day experience.

It’s all good….enjoy your day.

It’s all good.

Have you ever had someone next to you shove paper up their nose. Then be grabbed and beat half to death. It’s good. It really is. I swear it happened to me and it was good.