The Begining

My childhood started out fairly normal. I was born in 1983 in Andrews Texas. My parents lived in New Mexico at the time. The night my mother went into labor with me, my father was working. He drove over 100 mph to get to the hospital to get to us. When I was about 8 months old, my parents loaded all or our belongings into the back of a school bus and drove Michigan. When I say all of our belongings, I mean ALL!! Horses included! All, in a school bus. Completely normal right? At one point we lived with my Great Grandmother in Michigan. I don't know for how long either. She loved to tell me how she helped potty train me though! My brother was born while we lived in Michigan, in 1984. We then moved to Indiana, and Brother number 2 was born in '88. I am now about 5 years old, and my memory is starting to kick in. I don't remember much about my childhood, but what I do remember was not that happy. My parents did nothing but fight. I even remember a few times my mom sitting in the car crying. One time I remember going to the car and asking her what was wrong. And all she could do was cry. Through the next few years, we had ups and downs. We would do family activities, but I still remember them not being as fun because of all the fighting. Yelling. Screaming. My mother had a horse, Trademark, that was her best friend. The fence was bad, and he along with the other ones we had, kept getting out. My parents fought a lot about that. One day they all got out. My parents must have seen them as they were taking us to the sitters on their way to work, because we woke up in the back seat of the car, and there were a bunch of people surrounding Trademark, trying to help him push up to his feet. I later found out that my Mother was leading him across the road when a car sped down the hill and hit him. The impact broke his back. His hind legs were paralyzed. I remember them dragging Trademark across the road with a truck. I then remember my mother kneeling by his head, kissing his face, and stroking his neck as they put him to sleep. I remember the fights getting worse after that. My father was also an alcoholic. One time before super he left to go get a loaf of bread, and didn't come home till after we were in bed. One time my brother was sleep walking, trying to find the bathroom when my father came stumbling home. I woke up to my brother screaming, because my father was spanking him for being out of bed. My brother developed a very bad bed wetting case after that, that lasted for several years. In 1993 My brothers, mother, grandmother and I all went on a vacation to California to visit with family. We spent a whole month there. It was the best month of my life! I could tell it was for my mother too. She laughed all the time there! We came home on the 4th of July. I remember because we were sent to bed before it was dark, and we were not able to enjoy any fireworks. I remember the fight they had that night was horrible too. I was going to the bathroom, which had an adjoining door with their bedroom. My father came storming out, and yelled at me for being out of bed. And then he left. 8 days later my father killed my mother. I remember everything about that day. My brother and i had friends over. We were riding my pony Sugar. My mother let me use the video camera for the first time! I was supposed to stay the night with my grandparents that weekend, so we were all in the car to go. My father needed to pick his truck up from his brothers first. On the way to get it, my parents got into a huge fight! My father then turned and asked us if we would rather have him, or Brian, a man from California, as a father. My and my brother both new better, and said him of course, but our youngest brother was only 5. He shouted Brian. That set the ball rolling. We all went back home, and our parents went inside angrily. Our father yelled at us to go the the neighbors, who was also our babysitter and our mothers best friend. My brothers set off right away. I lingered because I was setting our FREE KITTENS sigh back up that had fallen over. Then I heard it. My mother screamed "NO MIKE NO!" Scared, I ran to catch up with my brothers who were across the street already. Then we heard a very close gun shot. We lived in the country, but still that shot sounded VERY close, so we ran all the way to the sitters. They were not home. So we sat on the porch for what felt like for ever. When they returned, we said our parents were fighting again, and they let us in. The phone was ringing. The sitter answered it, and with a horrified look on her face had all of us go down stairs. I knew something was wrong then, because down stairs was where her teenage sons had rooms, so we were never allowed to play down there. I was scared. So scared that I didn't want to go to the bathroom! The oldest son took me up stairs, and the sitter and her husband were around the table and she was crying. After again what felt like for ever she called us up stairs and let us eat. It was Macaroni and Cheese. Half way through my bowl, the police came to talk to us. Asking us what had happened that day, who drove what vehicle. If my parents fought a lot. Then he told us what had happened. My father had shot my mother. I later found out that it was him on the phone when we first got into the sitters house. He told her to call the police because he and my mother were going to be dead. I was numb. I couldn't cry. I asked about my pony. He said she was fine, but they couldn't catch her. I asked if I could go help. He just smiled and gave me a hug. My grandparents came to get us. That night I laid in my grandmother's bed as I listened to them calling all the family telling them what had happened. I can still hear the screams and cries from the other ends of the line! July 12, 1993 my world was forever changed. That was a BIG defining moment.