Living Memior

An Everyday LifeHave you ever tried to remember something and it seems that you forgot that memory? Well, that happens to me all the time. I am always writing down notes, dates, and birthdays. I never remember anything and then it hit me. So much has happened in my life and I am only 21-what if I forget something. I should write it all down, but who cares about my life? Who would read this and feel what I feel? I will not know until it happens I guess.
I figured that the best way to start this is with the first memories I have. Oddly enough, they all deal with my dad and those are really the memories I try to hang on to. It is the little snapshots of life that really hold no meaning but still hold a place in time. I can remember my bed sheets at both my parent’s places and the cardboard dresser set at my dad’s, and then I always had this boat with a siren that I played with in the tub at dads but Barbie’s at moms. I remember all the places that my dad lived at, but usually just one of the rooms stays in my mind. I remember this children’s laptop that I had for the longest time and this plastic guitar that I jammed out with in the living room. Then I have this one memory of being spanked with a paddle in the living room. It is the only time I can remember my dad disciplining me and I have no idea what I did.
I do not seem to be able to recall any birthdays or Christmases, but I do remember one Valentine’s Day. We went to a small airport and I got to sit in the front of the plane with the pilot and fly it myself. I can still remember looking back at his face…he love me so much. Then there were the times we would go asparagus hunting then go to this place for ice cream. This place was called Twist-n-Shout, so one time dad pulled up to the window and twisted back in his seat. As soon as the woman began to talk, he spun around and screamed. The woman just looked terrified and then recognized him. She asked what was wrong with him and he replied, “Well the sign said twist and shout, so that’s what I did.” We all laughed so hard. He was such a nerd.
All these memories and anything that involves my Dad happened before I was nine years old, so far so good with holding onto my memories. I bet you are starting to feel this getting dark, but more than likely, I will remember more memories as I write. I think it is time to talk about what I remember most and I will tell it straight threw as I remember.
It was summer and I was nine now. I was out back in the sandbox because I loved playing in it. My sandbox was a giant green turtle and the sand was always so white. I decided to get up, walked through the back door to the garage, and stopped at the door going in the house. It was slightly opened and I peeked in and saw my stepdad. He was on the phone with my best friend and told her she could not come over because there had been a death in the family. At that point, in my mind I knew what death was but never knew anyone who died.
My stepdad hung up the phone and came into view and he had this look on his face that made you hurt inside for him, but then he saw me and the pain that came over his face I had never saw before and would never see again until his baby brother died many years later. He started to walk across the kitchen and was about fifteen feet away, but I feel like he could not get to me fast enough.
He stepped out the door then looked away as he went and sat on the bench. I stood there and watched him sob then bury his face in his hands. He was so sad that I thought his parents had died but he said no-I probably guessed ten people then all he could say is, “your mom is on her way home”. I sat beside him and drilled him with questions and I feel bad for that now, but I was young and he did not want to be the one to tell me. I do not think he could have if he tried.
My mom pulled in the driveway and stepped out of her truck. They stood apart staring at each other for a second or two. His face held so much pain and hers was fear and confusion. He led her into the house and they told me to stay outside for a few minutes because they knew my ear would have been glued to their bedroom door. Hence, I stood there waiting so impatiently and it seemed like hours. Finally, I heard the door open and they walked into the kitchen. Mom now had that same face that my stepdad had and I was starting to get scared.
She tried to turn away but he pulled her forward and time slowed down while I stood there confused. My mom grabbed my hand and took me to the bench and my stepdad walked away. She held my hands and looked into my eyes and this is where pieces of my memory begin to fade, most likely from the trauma of the experience, but she told me my dad was dead and I believed she told me at that time that he had committed suicide.
All I remember is screaming the loudest I have ever screamed. I tried to run, but she just held me tight and cried. I cried for the longest time and was choking for each breath. Then I told her he would never kill himself and she was a liar and he’s not dead and then demanded to see him.
The next thing I can remember is running into the arms of my Aunt’s boyfriend; then being in my grandma’s house. I remember seeing my Uncle who said, “hey Peaches,” but it was so sad. Him and my dad were the only ones to called me that and the name died with my dad…everyone was huddled around this piece of paper. Taking turns reading it and crying. I never got to see that letter. It was his suicide letter and the police confiscated it.
We went upstairs which was where my dad’s room was. He lived with grandma for a while and I had actually seen him the night before. I think I was supposed to stay with him, but mom decided not to let me. Maybe if she just let me stay he would be alive today, but he was sitting at the table eating mashed potatoes and his hands were shaking so bad that the food fell off his spoon. I found out later that my dad had depression problems and was put on Lithium, but he did not like it and got off of it cold turkey.
We went up to his room, his wallet was open to my picture, and his cologne was close by. It was the old fashion Old Spice bottle and there were models of cars, planes and boats everywhere.
I have many memories in my grandma’s house; he was there for a while. There was this little bench that I loved to sit on and I would play with Lego’s and a sit’n’spin and this big stuffed banana. Dad and I would play with his army men, in the evening we would lay on the floor and watch Law and Order because that was grandma’s favorite show, but we would play a game where we would spell out messages, like I love you, on each other’s backs. It is one of my favorite memories.
Eventually we were at the funeral home and we were in the main room. My mom was talking with the director and I just kept looking around for dad. Then the man knelt down and said, “Are you ready?” I said yes because I assumed it was to see dad. We walked towards the back and then I saw the door. Time slowed down nearly to a stop and when we got to the door, the man stopped and looked back at my mom, so I opened the door myself.
It swung open so slowly and there was a bright light. My eyes adjusted and everything was white except for the metal table that dad was on. I took a deep breath and it was so quiet, I never looked back. All I could hear was the buzzing of the fluorescence light and dripping coming from the table. I walked up and grabbed his arm-I wanted him to wake up and this all be a nightmare, but he did not move. He laid there and I could see the tiny bullet hole under his ear. His body was still warm and I moved his fingers around mine, then told him, “You didn’t say goodbye…” It had finally hit me. My dad, my best friend, the strongest man in the world, my hero, was gone and no one could bring him back.
 It is a lot to take in and it still puts a lump in my throat as a write this. I was fine at the funeral and many stated that I was taking this all very well. I remember when they were closing up the casket I was saying good-bye and they closed the lid, but I begged for him to please open it again. I just could not say goodbye, so I just told him how much I loved him and would miss him and then the casket closed.
 Eventually I went back to school and while I was gone my guidance counselor told the whole class that my dad died and to be nice to me. I wish she never opened her mouth. She constantly had me in her office telling me I had to talk to her, but I refused-I hated her. She kept reporting that I was doing poorly and not adjusting to my new life. My mom got tired of that and told her that I just did not like her and was just fine.
 I stopped seeing the counselor, I was in class, and the teacher asked us to write about our summer vacation…well you can guess what I wrote about and I guess I shared some vivid details that scared the teacher. She called a meeting and insisted I go back to counseling. My mom told her where to stick that idea.
 Next thing you know child services were visiting the house. They called my sister by her nickname, said our beagle was vicious, and said there were reports of bruises on me. My mom was appalled and knew the accusation had come from the school. Child Services never found anything and by the end of  the year my mom decided to move.
 They found property outside of town and started building a house, but the company delayed things and our house was already bought. We ended up living with my mom’s parents and her sister’s family lived there already. There were twelve people living in that house and we hated it. Those six months felt like two years, but it was worth it when we moved into our brand new home.
 Life was pretty normal after that and I had switched schools. I was always an odd artsy one, so school was still tough but I made it. The day I graduated, I felt so sad because my dad was not there to see what I have accomplished. Then I realized he would not be there for graduation from college, or walk me down the aisle at my wedding and never meet my children. After so many years, there was still a large hole in my life and I knew it would never heal. 
 I really enjoyed my senior summer that I started with our senior cruise to the Virgin Islands. I was the best thing I ever did, I had so much fun and did things I had never done before, but just like my life, there is always a dark side to a story. There were technically two bad things-or maybe even three- that happened. First, my best friend was with a guy on the boat and ignoring us and I had just had it, so I confronted her, which led to her eventually ending our relationship. Then another guy jumped ship so we had to search for him and we had to skip visiting one of the islands. Overall I loved the trip and I am a strong believer of karma, so on the last island my redheaded friend fell asleep on the beach. Half her face and whole body was sun burnt and I could not help but laugh.
 I left home for college in a nearby town and to this day, I am very dependent on my mom. Not to say that she pays for everything because I paid for everything I wanted and she took care of my needs. The only time in my life I did not have a job was that first year of college, but I do not think it was even a whole year that I did not work.
I had come home from my first years of and college and I wanted a two-week break then I told Mom I would go get a job.  That year was so rough to adjust and I ended up going through two roommates and getting three ulcers. I think the fact that the economy was so bad from the war she did not think I could find a job, so she harped on me every day and I just wanted a break. Then the fighting began and there was this HUGE fight and I believe I yelled at my stepdad, “You’re not my dad.” It hurt him more than anything, but he reacted with anger and things went horrible.
I pack my things and left the next day. I got a phone call late afternoon from my Mom asking where I was and I refused to tell her. She got very angry then even angrier when I told her that I had moved out and I am not coming home. I actually drove forty-five minutes away to my aunt’s house; she was like my second mom. She starting screaming at me that I was throwing my life away assuming for some reason that I was not returning to school in the fall. Then she said she was cancelling my health and truck insurance and reporting my truck as stolen since the title was in my stepdad’s name. I hated the way she was acting-it was just so childish. My stepdad eventually intervene and let me do what I wanted.
Mom was going through “empty nest syndrome” and we did not talk for months. I eventually came back to live with my boyfriend for a few weeks. I felt too awkward living in his house with his brothers and parents, so I found my first place with a friend.
Now there was no way for me to know that the next four months would be so horrible, but as soon as we moved in there were a couple instances of sewage backup. Then I starting paying for everything and my roommate and I got into a huge fight then she moved out the next day. I will not elaborate because that is her life, but she realized later that she had severe PMDD and attempted suicide about a year later. I had to learn from that experience and just move on.
I ended up moving closer to school and had this great Victorian house, but my landlord would not replace the ancient furnace, so I moved out. My new boyfriend moved out of his place the same time so we moved in together at this new place. It was a lot smaller, but it was cheaper and he would be able to afford it on his own went I left for my internship.
 This past summer we went to St. Croix to visit his dad, who he had not seen in six years. It was actually quite a hassle because I had to have a knee surgery a month before we wanted to leave. Actually, it was my third knee surgery in seven years, so we did not think we could go. We had about two weeks until we were supposed to have gone and I told him we could go.
 The tickets ended up being more expensive so I could not charge both to my credit card, so we bought one with mine then went to buy the other one on my Aunt’s card. The site we were going through would only give us a ticket for another airline, so we had to fly separate, which really upset us, but there was only a thirty-minute difference.
 We enjoyed the whole week and my birthday fell on the Saturday we were there, so he bought me an engagement ring, which made the trip better for me. I was kind of having a hard time being the third wheel and seeing my boyfriend reminisce and get to know his dad again. It was something I could never have and hurt a lot.
Anyway, before the trip, my boyfriend was an alcoholic and he knew it and we would fight over it all the time. The whole trip he was drinking rum and was dehydrated by the last night. He and his dad got into it, but they ended up talking it out and I went to bed. In the morning, I was getting things packed and realized he was stumbling and slurring his words and by the time I figured out what was going on it was too late.
We got into a HUGE fight and I called him a dirty word mixed in with other words, but I used to call my ex this word and he knew that. He came busting in the room screaming and pushed me-I was really scared. I love him to death, but he is a hardened former marine and when he gets mad its best to stay clear.
We hardly talked for hours then we were about to separate to get on our separate planes and noticed all the planes were delaying and we knew a tropical depression was coming. His flight delayed an hour, but mine was on time and I had to go. I got on my plane and was texting him how much better my plane was because each person had their own interactive screen to play games or watch movies.
Before I sent the message, I got one from him saying how his flight was cancelled and he would have to stay overnight. What made this even worse was that I had everything with me. He had no money, no cigarettes, no clothes and his phone was dying. After a few hours, he was having withdraws from alcohol. I told him there was nothing I could do and it was all karma for that morning.
He eventually made it home the next day and it took a few days before he started feeling better. When we got home, we had a long talk and I told him he had five days to quit drinking or I was leaving him. The weeks that followed were very hard; I would catch him lying and hiding beer cans and even caught him adding water to the liquor bottles.
Less than two months later we got everything under control and he would tell me when he was craving a beer and we would find ways to get his mind off of it and eventually he was even able to just socially drink on occasion with me.
 So somehow, I just summed up my whole life in less than thirty-five hundred words. Maybe my memories were not that great after all...then again I have only lived a quarter of my life and maybe I am just not ready to reveal everything.
I cried today and actually, I have been crying a lot lately. I began writing this to express my memories, then realized each passing day becomes a memory. To be honest, I am not sure what there is to gain from this. I have no words of wisdom or advice or “moral to the story”, my life pretty much just turned out this way.  These past few months have been really hard. I am a senior in college majoring in Homeland Security and Terrorism and I think I want to be a data analyst, but I am just not sure of anything anymore. I just finish midterms and I am doing really well, so all I have to do is finish this semester. Next semester I will be interning in Washington DC, while taking a class and doing all the other things I will have to do, but right now, I am scared to death. I do not know what is going to happen next and my whole life I knew what I would be doing the next day or week even next few years. In junior high, my goal was to graduate, in high school I knew I wanted to go to college, so now I am here and in two and half months from now I have to leave. I have become so dependent on my mom and fiancé that I am scared to leave and be without them. I will be alone.
I just an average country type girl whole had barely a friend in high school. I have never fit in and really had no friends. Right now, if I needed a friend to maybe talk to I would only have two choices-mom or fiancé. I do not have any friends and most of the time I do not mind, but there are those times and things that you do not want to tell your mother and sometimes not even your fiancé; and then for me that thought just has to stay in my head.
I was never the type to date someone and decide two weeks later I did not like them and move to the next person. I liked to have long relationships and I liked being with that one person, so I tended to be clingy. I ended up have an almost four-year relationship that began on my sixteenth birthday. It was horrible, I knew for a long time that he was no good for me. There would be a problem, like cannot hold a job, and I would try to help him and “fix” him. Sometime you can really help someone, but they have to want to help themselves and he did not. We would separate then get back together then do it all over again and I think I could not say goodbye because I was too scared of being alone.
Our relationship was on a downhill mudslide that was not going to be repaired, so honestly I may have started looking in other directions, though I never cheated on him in any way. There was this one guy who had tried to be nice and we worked at the same place. He had saw me outside of work and said hello from a distance and I ignored him, so he yelled again and I responded by telling him I was a snob outside of work. I think this is so funny now and could not remember saying that until months later.
Somehow, this guy did not take offense to my rudeness-it actually made him more interested in me. Eventually he became my supervisor and there was a lot of one-on-one coaching since we did work in telemarketing and slowly began to know each other. As I said before, I do not have any friends, so when my boyfriend dumped me, I kind of told the people on my team. He overheard and decided that he wanted to be with me and was going to do everything possible. How he got me I still do not know; he was everything that would have made me run, but for some unknown reason I stuck through it. He was a drinker, smoker, no college education, used to be addicted to drugs and had only been clean for two years, alcoholic, had poor family ties and had a broken tooth, which I am all about perfect teeth, yet he won my heart. As I said before he quit drinking and eventually wants to go back to school, still drug free, has a better relationship with his family and still has a broken tooth-which bothers him a lot-but we do not have the money to fix it.
Money is a big reason why I have been crying a lot lately. I do not have any. We live paycheck to paycheck and I dug my own hole, so I have to find my way out. You see, my fiancé had no relationship with his dad for the past six years and for some reason when we started dating his dad started contacting him. They began talking again and when he would get off the phone, he would cry in my arms because he missed his dad so much. That would hurt me as much as it hurt him because I do have a stepfather but could never replace my dad and I miss him everyday-everyday.
I found out though, that my fiancé’s dad lived in the Virgin Islands and we lived in Ohio, but I told him that we need to go see his dad. I told him that you never know when his time is up and it will be in the most inconvenient time for you and if you do not fix your relationship now, it will hurt you the rest of your life. He knew where I was coming from and how important it really was, but he had no money and no credit. I told him that I would make the trip happen and we figured everything out and had the vacation planned, then I had to have another knee surgery. I pushed the recovery and physical therapy as fast as I could and told him the trip was back on, but it was even more expensive with short notice and he, understandable, wanted to stay more than three days.
Ever since the trip we have been in so much debt and I am dumping all my money into our bills trying to get everything paid off before I have to leave. I go to school five days a week, I take every shift work offers, I make the dean’s list at school, but I just cannot do it anymore, I am so tired. We just are not making enough money. When we returned from our trip, his checks became cut in half from garnishment for old school bills and my boss cut my hours, no negotiation, so I had to quit for another job. That job is elderly care and they promised me forty hours a week, but I barely ever see thirty hours.
I do not regret taking the trip, it was the greatest thing I could have done for two people, but I always say that good thing happen to good people and I try so hard to be this good person. I gave so many clothes to women at work because than did not fit me anymore and they needed them more than me. I have never done drugs or smoked-I do not even have a speeding ticket. I actually adopted my first dog from the humane society. I knew the girl who was going to get him and she decided that she did not want him and he was getting sick from being there so long, so I got him and I just love him to death. There are so many things I do for other people and I never ask for anything in return, but when is it my turn. When is someone going to help me? When do I get my just reward for all this hard work?
We started having trouble getting groceries, but we are not eligible for food stamps and I do not agree with them anyway because too many people abuse the service. We started putting our groceries on my Walmart card and we kept up with it for a while, but started not be able to pay as much on the bill as we liked. Because I am so young, there is a high interest rate and once it hit over a thousand there was no way to keep up. I am about three hundred from the credit limit and I am going to have to put my whole paycheck towards it next week. I just do not know what to do anymore, we make eight to nine hundred dollars together every two weeks and with all our bills, we do not even have enough to get groceries now. I have to figure out how to pay all my bills, get groceries, get flea prevention for my two dogs and two cats, get gas, and put a three hundred dollar deposit down for my housing in DC by next week and I have no idea, so I just cry.
I have had a little good news lately, that over the past four years I have gained thirty pounds and after three knee surgeries, three ulcers my freshman year, and all the stress I am under now I hit two hundred and four pounds. At five foot three that made me highly obese which made me depressed, made my back hurt, and my knee started hurting again. The worst part was that I have been trying so hard to diet, but I guess my body was under so much stress that it stored everything I ate. The doctor put me on some pills that make you feel weird all the time, but I have lost thirteen pounds in eleven days and feel so much better.
I just want to know what is going to happen next, pay off all my bills, and make it through this.
My fiancé and I have been fighting so much over anything and everything. I am so scared that I am going to lose him because of the circumstances. I am trying so hard to balance everything and the more I try the more it seems like my world is falling apart. There is a liaison at my school who is supposed to help me get ready for my internship and I met with him four times last semester and he never told me to apply for clearance for certain jobs at DC. My advisor for my internship got a hold of me to discuss placement options and was asking if I was interested in working at The White House, but unfortunately, I did not have any clearance and told her that I missed the deadline because I was untold. It makes me so mad that one person could be so inconsiderate and possibly ruin a career option for me.
Okay so let’s get back to some memories. I had this friend in high school who was really my only and best friend. I am not sure exactly when things started to change but her parents were just too strict. Her dad was a pastor, her mom worked in a medical office, and she was the average stubborn redhead. They thought they were raising their daughter the right way, but I think it was too much and she pretty much rebelled. She was caught once “in the act” by her dad and just got grounded and talked to. If it was either of my parents, I would have got the stupid smacked out of me, but oh well. After a little time passed, we would joke about how scared she was and how her dad said, “It would behoove you to…” I do not remember the rest, but his choice of words cracked us up. Next thing you know she started hanging out with the other girls of our class, acting different, drinking, and partying. Actually it was not that shocking, it was what any senior in high school would do.
We began to grow distant and I remember going on our class trip and by the third night, she was spending all her time with a guy on the cruise. Me and the other girl in our cabin got mad because she was coming in loud, drunk, and just being crazy, so we talked to her about it. She did not like us “ganging up” on her and disagreed-I just think she got too much sun and rum. She stayed in the other girls cabin the rest of the trip. When we got back, we had one conversation that started with her telling me how much she loved him and I tried telling her that he used her, she would never see him again, and he actually had a girlfriend back home. She was so mad and then I started “lecturing” her about her new lifestyle choices and that was the end of that. However, today I felt the need to contact her. I said we have both grown and become wiser as time passed and that I live my life without “what-ifs” and I did not want there to be a “what-if” between us. Now, I am just waiting for her response and either way, at least there will not be that “what-if” on my end. What is in the past should stay the past and why should a good relationship end because of high school drama.
 I realized today that I have written fifteen pages, double-spaced, to this piece of writing and I have never wrote a single document this long before. At first, I was forcing myself to write because I wanted it all out of my head, but once I started, I could not stop. I wanted to tell everything that I could remember about my life, but the more I tell the less special I feel. I used to think I was so different, but I am starting to feel that everyone shares the same struggles. I started this whole piece with the title being “An Everyday Life.” At first, I meant it as sarcasm, but now the title is like a foreshadow.
 I thought writhing a book would be easy; I am intelligent, clever, I have an interesting story, but I am getting really discouraged now. At this point I thought six thousand words was a lot and this book was really coming along, but then I found out that I would need over fifty thousand words just to have my work considered a novel. I am not sure if I am going to finish this or if it is going to end up as I planned.