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Father’s Day and My Grandmother
My parents were divorced by the time I was six months old, so I had never had a father. This holiday was just another reminder of how different I was from the other kids, then my mother died when I was six, and it was just me and my grandmother. Just two women living alone, or two females if you prefer since I was a little girl when the arrangement first began, but the point was that there was no male presence in my home. My grandmother had lived with us since I was brought home from the hospital as a newborn, so living with her was a continuation, we just both missed my mother, her daughter, terribly. But my mother had gone out to work and my grandmother had stayed home, kept house, and taken care of me. In many ways it was a traditional household except that we were all women, but the roles for everyone were very standard in most ways.
If my grandmother and mother could have been a lesbian couple it would have been a happy family, maybe, but my mother wanted to remarry. My grandmother saw this as a threat. Hadn’t my mother’s only husband been cruel to her, broken her heart? My grandfather beat my grandmother for decades, nearly killed her a few times. She left when my mother, the youngest, was old enough to not be trapped with him in some court custody nightmare. Until that time, she fought back, this tiny woman, 4′ 11″, fought back against my much larger grandfather. She never gave up, never gave in, even though she stayed for the kids. She taught me what strength could be, and stubbornness, too.
My grandmother would dress me up in my best Sunday clothes and set me by the door when my mother had a first date. She’d tell me that I was going and it was a treat, and not ask my mother. My grandmother said, she wanted to make sure the man would be nice to me, but really it was to sabotage the date. Having a small girl on most of the first dates she managed pretty much guaranteed that there would be few second dates. I remember some of these awkward and socially painful moments. I knew I wasn’t wanted and shouldn’t be there, even at six. But my grandmother protected my mother and me from the men, and herself from losing us. She would later regret her actions, and come to take partial blame for my mother going into work that day and dying in the car accident. If my mother had only married and been a stay at home mom, it wouldn’t have happened. My grandmother blamed my father for years, if he’d been a good man and taken care of his family my mother wouldn’t have had to work outside the home. Like I said, my grandmother was a very traditional woman in some ways.
My grandmother loved her own father dearly and her own brothers, especially her nearest in age, my great-uncle Troy. But she told me once that if she hadn’t had sons of her own and loved them, she probably would have hated all men after what she endured from my grandfather. She hated men enough, and certainly told me they were evil, and would hurt me, and wanted only one thing. Her attitude towards sex does not bear talking about here, lets just say it was bleak, and that’s putting it mildly.
She raised me to be the boy, the man of the house, and to take the place of my mother who we had lost. By the time I was in my teens, I was lifting the heavy stuff, not her. When I was in college, still living at home and commuting in, an uncle was visiting us. We’d bought a fifty pound bag of rock salt to go into the water softener. I opened the bag, picked it up, so I could pour it in, and he jumped up from his chair as if to take the bag from me. I just looked at him as I poured it, easily, into the water. He looked perplexed.
“Do you think a man springs from the woodwork every time there’s something heavy to lift?” I asked him.
He hadn’t thought about it, none of the family had, I don’t think.
“Who do you think does all this?” I asked him.
He didn’t know. It had never occurred to him what it might mean that there was no man of the house.
If there was a scary noise in the middle of the night, I got up and searched the house for danger. My grandmother stayed back in the bed, while I secured everything. In many ways I was the man of the house.
If I’d been raised differently would I have been less drawn to so many masculine hobbies, and interests? Who knows? But I’ve spent most of my adult life being the only girl, or the minority in a room. Martial arts of various flavors, a biology degree, though I have an English degree, too, and that’s heavily weighted to woman, or was when I was in college. Somehow, I doubt that’s changed. It would be Robert E. Howard, creator of Conan the Barbarian, that would be the writer that made me want to write horror, and heroic fantasy. Before my mother’s death I wanted a pink canopy bed, to be a ballerina, and have a white pony, or a white cat. By the time I was fourteen I was writing horror stories where most characters died horribly. I hated pink, and if I got a cat, I wanted a black one. I’d always loved horror movies and scary ideas, that wouldn’t have changed, I don’t think, but the rest . . . Is it nature or nurture?
We didn’t have much money so I didn’t worry about clothes. It was more important what I could do, than what I looked like, besides my grandmother didn’t encourage me in my looks. I believe she thought since my mother had been the pretty one and it had done her no good, just attracted a bad man, that she determined I wouldn’t think I was the pretty one. She did a great job of convincing me, as she put it, “No man will ever have you, so you better be able to work, and take care of yourself.”
I took this admonition from my childhood to heart and worked to get my ass out of there, because no one was going to save me. My grandmother, the only parent I had, told me that no one would save me. Look what had happened to her after she fell in love with my grandfather. Look what had happened to my mother. Men weren’t the answer, standing on your own two feet and not needing anyone was the only way to be safe.
She didn’t intend that I become quite as independent as I did. She complained that I was, independent as an old widow woman, because I didn’t just not depend on men. I fought to be independent of her, and that she had not planned. We fought most of my early adulthood as I tried to break free and she tried to keep me. Worst fights we ever had were when I fell in love the first time and wanted to marry my first husband. It was a horrible time, because a man, an evil man, because all men were evil, had come to take me away.
My now ex-husband was a good man then, and he still is in many ways. He’s a good, traditional guy, not a guy-guy, but conservative. One of the things that would later fuel our divorce was that the conservative girl he married became a liberal, but that would be after a decade of being pretty happily married.
Actually, my grandmother only approved of two men that I dated. One cheated on me, and the other tried to abuse me – I say try, because one incident of it and I was done with him. She had a nearly unerring radar for bad men, just like my grandfather had been. She was drawn to abusive men that would not be faithful, perhaps its a good thing she gave them up after my grandfather.
My first husband was kind, calm, hard working, serious about college and his future, and our future. To marry him I had to defy my entire family and be told that if I did marry him, I was dead to my family. By the day of the wedding my grandmother had relented enough to come, because she realized I was going to go through with it. I thought, and I still think today, that marrying my first husband, even if it had cost me my birth family, was a good deal.
Oddly, nearly twenty years later when I told her that my ex and I were divorcing she was devastated. She had made of our relationship a Romeo and Juliet drama, because I had defied them all and seemed happy, and we had a child, and . . . My grandmother seemed to feel personally betrayed that it had not worked, because she had built it into something more dramatic and more “love of my life” than I had. But I didn’t know that until I told her it was over.
She expected me to come home and bring my young daughter with me. My mother had been out of the house less than two years when she divorced and brought me home to my grandmother. I had been out of the house for fifteen years. I had done what my grandmother raised me to do, had a job that could support me and my daughter after the breakup. I was independent and fine on my own without a man, or my grandmother. She took it hard that I didn’t come home crying and needing her. Her reaction totally took me off guard. The two of us never really understood each other.
When I got engaged to Jonathon, my husband, my grandmother was very upset. Again, it was a man, and she didn’t like, or trust, them. She would eventually make peace with this marriage, too, but she never understood me marrying a second time. I had my daughter, and I was divorced, why did I need another man?
The men I married have been all the men I have known in a home situation. I had no basis for what a husband should be, or what a father should be. I had to create that reality for myself through therapy and years of effort. My daughter, Trinity, is lucky enough to have two fathers. Normally, my ex would split this weekend with us, but work has interfered this year. He was disappointed, but they will have other weekends. So, this Father’s Day, Trinity and I are helping Jonathon celebrate that he’s her dad. I’ve loved watching them grow into the great father/daughter relationship that they have, and I’m happy that my first husband is involved in her life. I had no father and it makes me very happy that Trinity has two.
35 thoughts on “Father’s Day and My Grandmother”
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I love your story. you have achieved so much and overcome much. you are an inspiration. I have to say you are a great writer I love all your books. please keep writing. I will keep buying your books. thanks again for being such an inspiration.
I think that it takes true courage to not pass on to your daughter the lessons that you were so brutally taught as a child. My father was and continues to this day to be a good man. His quirky humor that annoyed me so much as a teenager is what made me fall in love with the man I will celebrate 15 years of marriage with this August. I had a pretty good life growing up but the ideals and expectations that were put on me I have and will never live up too. I think my parents find it confusing that we are raising our sons to question everything around them, and to follow their own path not others. You see in polite southern society that is not usually the case. I didn’t have to fight battles like you, and I am glad you could learn, grow and more important truly appreciate what you have now. Thank you for sharing you story, it was very personally account and it moved me.
I have always wondered what your childhood and early adult years were like. I don’t know if it is nature or nurture, but I believe both play a roll to some extent. This was a very sad story to read yet the ending really has the makings of a beautiful life. I am very happy for you.
The modern family seems to no longer be the traditional family, husband, wife, children. What we have and what we make of it makes us the individuals that we are and a more understanding future to come.
Wow, that was a really touching story! I’m glad to see that someone else has had a childhood similar to my own, minus a parent dying and being raised to be the man of the house. I hadn’t really known my father for most of my life either so my mom raised me alone, but I’m glad you found Jon! You deserve all your happiness! 😀
Hi Laurell,
Man oh man, I could have wrote this almost word for word.
My mother had all of those same traits. I was raised the same way and was the heavy lifter and should have been a boy. and was told my looks would never get me anywhere and don’t bother I was born and made to work all of my life.
It was not until my mother passed away that i truly got to know my dad. My parents were married over 50 years and my dad adored my mom. Because of that he was blind to her mental cruelty.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Kitty
I loved your story, and I congratulate you,on finding the inner strength to make a life on your own terms, and in your own way.Families,even ”normal”ones, are never easy.I love your books, and Anita Blake is my favorite character.Now that I have some of your background,it is clear to me where Anita gets her strength, and tenacity from.When I read my first Vampire Hunter book, I was immediately struck with Anita’s personality, and found myself saying, ” That’s exactly how I feel,”or ”I would do the same thing, in that kind of situation”.It made me feel so great, that finally, there was a female character that had the balls to live life on her terms,without apology,just as I was trying to do.I can’t wait for the next story,and I thank you, for giving life to them.
Thank you for sharing your personal story Laurel. It is very much appreciated and I am sure it is also helpful, comforting and beneficial for people to read. Your insights into life and open and honest accouting of experiences and your thoughts help all of us. Just wanted you to understand that it s always worth it to extend yourself in that way. Thank you again.
Thank you for sharing.
Further to my previous post……… I apologize for spelling your fist name incorrectly Laurell!! For someone who has read all of your books, that is a tad embarrassing! lol.
Sad about your upbringing, even though it made you the independent woman you are today. But happy about your daughter.
Happy Father’s Day to Jonathan.
Janice~
I think you are a very strong woman. I am glad you are you, however it came about and no one has the right to say less.
This amazing piece of you has touched me in so many ways…….!!!
I do have, and have always had, a dad that I grew up with. My parents “divorced” when I was 7, but got back together when I was 13. My brother and I did not have a choice as to who we would live with – we stayed with my dad. He was and is a very controlling and manipulative person (although we didn’t realize this until much later in life), but I’m sure (I think?) that he tried to do what he thought was right by us. I have such confused and f&*#ed up thoughts and feelings about my dad that I’m NOT sure if having him in my life was good or bad?? Having said that, I’m not sure if I would be the same person today had he NOT been in my life.
I have two daughters of my own (ages 21 and 16), with two different fathers (my first fiancé died when I was pregnant, and that is a whole other bag of s%*t), and I ended up marrying someone just like my father – you know that old saying…..!!! My marriage was a rollercoaster of controlling, degrading, demeaning emotional and psychological abuse that I (and my daughters to a lesser extent) endured for about 7 1/2 years. He was a drug addict and an alcoholic. Starting towards the end of my marriage, I developed a backbone, and I “let my balls drop”, so to speak. Thanks to counselling, great friends, and finally finding “ME”, I grew stronger emotionally, gained more confidence in myself, and taught my girls that NOBODY would treat me or them like that again!!
My 21 year old is in a very healthy and loving relationship with a wonderful man, and my 16 year old is finding herself and becoming comfortable with who she is and the people in her life.
My mother has been my ‘rock’ for most of my adult life, and is my best friend, and we also helped to teach each other, and my girls, that if there is a man in our lives it is because we WANT him there, not because we NEED him to validate us in any way!!
RM
P.S. I am also VERY excited for Affliction!!!!!!
I love that you trust us (your fans) enough to share yourself so openly with us!! I was blessed to have an amazing father (that is way better now then we were as kids;)) and very strong male figures in my life. I am always blown away by how you took what was, without a doubt, a very difficult situation (your childhood) and turned out to be such an AMAZING woman!!! Thank you so much for sharing your life with us, the fans. Happy father’s day to you and your family!!!
I was raised by a single mother and I can relate in so many ways to your story. It is not easy to grow up in a home with only one parent, but it helped me to become the independent woman I am today. It helped me to find the man who is the father of my children and whom I plan on marrying next year. I don’t know if I would be where I am now if mu father hadn’t left when I was a little girl, but I am happy with the way my life turned out. My mom made sure my sister and I could do everything for ourselves. I could not ask for a better life. Thank you for sharing your story and your life with all of us.
Dear Ms Hamilton,
I am sorry to hear that you had no father while growing up. I have read all your books and I think that you are fantastic at what you do and have done fine for yourself. My parents got married when they were 17 and 21 and they stayed married until the day that father passed away (2 years ago). My dad missed their 52 anniversary by a little less than 2 months. I am very happy to have had the father that I did while he was here. He was a great man, an excellent provider for his family and the best father that a person could ask to have (I know that a lot of people say that but in this case it was true). My father always had patience for all his children. He worked almost all his life (he lived on a farm so he starting his working career earlier) He joined the Navy when he was 17 and after he got out of the Navy he went to work in the oil field. He was a very hard working man and he taught all his children a good work ethic. He was kind to all the people that knew him and he is greatly missed every single day. I am glad that your daughter is lucky enough to experience growing up with 2 dads. Thank you for sharing your story with us. I know that it touched my heart and made me remember how lucky I was to have had such a great man as my father (it also made me cry a little for missing him so much). Thank you again for sharing your story.
Sincerely Rebecca
You are my somewhat writer idol (as you may know already) and this blog posts you write make Anita blanks more bearable. You do really inspire me, even when its not Anita, your look on real life inspires me, you give me strength to be a girl in a cruel and tough world.
Hope your health is better.
xoxo
Well, it’s a life full of changes and experiences. I’m conflicted because I’ve loved that you had a better life, but then Anita Blake would had never be written.
If this makes you laugh/cry, my mother is the same. She widowed when I was nive, and the next thirty some years she has been fighting teeth and nails to make me stay under her wing and do every little wish she has.
Months ago she had an accident and I had to return to her house for month and half. It was infuriating to see a woman in weelchair trying to explain a twice-diverced father (me) how to wash the dishes or moving near to hear my privated phone calls.
Luckyly, she is wallking again, I’m back in my own home (even as she blackmailed me with trying to suicide if I resumed my normal life) and at the day of today she still don’t understand why her two sons live in another city than her.
this is such a brave an courageous thing you did an im sure it made you the women you are today.i was molested by my brother an later by policeofficers while my mom looked the outher way never knowing who was my dad I survived an raised 3 sons of my own an numerous foster children I always shown all f my kids love an told them everyday im happy you found good men I have also my sons ive raised them never do to a woman what they wouldn’t want done to there mama hitting hurting etc see us women are strong an no men difine us I just hope the next generation of men are more kinder ive done my best to see that happens I also love each an everyone of your stories Joanna
Thank you for sharing this 😉
Here’s in Italy Father’s day has another date and I had no idea every country has its own celebration day.
Illuminating.
Thank you again for letting us being part of your life in this amazing way.
I love your attitude, I became the “boy” later in life even though I had a dad. I love that I can run electric wire, plumb a sink or put oil in my car but I also can bake a cake or sew a dress. I especially like to see how lucky Trinity is, my step father died recently and I have talked with my mom more in the last 2 months than I have in the last 30+ years just because I wasn’t part of “their” family. I am of the school of thought that stepparents are great as long as everyone works together and no one is treated differently. The more parents/greats/aunts/uncles/cousins the better and the more fun to be had.
I think when we are all growing up some adults say and do things to make us seem callous as methods to harden us against the world. The only thing is that sometimes this backfires and causes more harm than good. I had both my parents growing up and my dad was always my number one fan coming to everything I did in school and so on. My mother was perpetually ill (hyperchondriac) all the time and had some major anger issues where she would hit my sister until my sister moved away and then she would turn on me. I do believe in spanking kids when they are being horrendous, but she would drag my sister through the house by her hair (dragging her on the floor), she almost broke my nose, clawed my face, etc. Being older now and working on my own family I keep her somewhat distant which hurts because that keeps my father somewhat distant (never understood by he wouldn’t do anything, hell she would hit him as well). I don’t really listen to much of what she says to me and sometimes I feel resentful towards her and sometimes saddened because I feel like she is starving for attention or wants to be the center of the universe and in this world where it is not possible. I wonder if the fact she had my sister and I was the ruin of her world for her and that maybe she is one of those parents who wasn’t really meant to have kids. The lesson I learned from her is that when I actually birth my children, I don’t know how much interaction I want her to have with them. Every thunderstorm was a possible tornado that could come down at any time and destroy and murder you; everything could murder you; guys are bad and want to rape you (she insisted I was having sex with the world when I was 12 even though I never had sex until I was 17); any passion you ever have about anything she will find a way to squash it. I want my children to be able to handle their own and be able to face their fears. My husband says he will work with them on kick boxing or something to be able to stand their own ground. I want them to be educated so that if they want to pursue college that the option is there. I think those two systems are a great foundation. My father always wanted me to be successful and he was always there to help me with my homework. Any job I worked he was always proud. I owe him my existence and strength. I feel for you for your upbringing, I guess the moral of my rant is that adults will say things to attempt to harden you or petrify you depending on the situation. Your grandmother would say things in attempt to make you a strong woman and callous you which ultimately ended up backfiring on her. I know the adults love you at the end of the day, I guess it’s just the devoid of emotion or method of showing their love that causes the train wrecks of their teachings and our upbringings.
The hardness in your early life has translated into creativity, competence and compassion. I love your work and now understand far better where the juice comes from. I have loved watching the characters in the Anita Blake novels grow and change and mature over time. I am re-reading the entire series right now in preparation for Affliction. Every time I read the series again, I find such cohesion in your stories. Thank you for your hard work, writing for my enjoyment. Your strength has given strength to Anita who has given strength to untold thousands of fans.
First: isn’t it fabulous that your daughter has the advantage of not only a strong independent woman for her mother, but two fathers that will love and protect her if needed. That in itself is wonderful. Laurel; As parents we want our children to have the kind of life we didn’t have. We work, struggle and fight to make that happen, as you no doubt did, but the truth is that we are who we are because of what we experienced growing up and how we did ( or didn’t) learn to cope with it. We pass on to our children our hopes, dreams and strengths, we also pass on to them our failures, disappointments and fears. We don’t mean to, it just is. Our children grow to find their own way, exploring their own dreams, hopes and fears and sometimes a few of ours as well. Without actually knowing you, just reading your posts and your books, it seems to me that you have taken what your parents and grandmother gave you and turned it to your advantage. Does this mean that somewhere inside you no longer have the issues your grandmother gifted you with, not likely, but what it seems to mean is that you understand yourself well enough to know they loved you the best way they knew how.
As a reader and writer, I always wonder how much of ourselves we put into our characters. It is amazing to see so much of you in Anita. What a catharsis.
Love your work and thank you for the glimpse into your heart
Peace
Mychal
You’re not alone in feeling the disconnect on this Father’s Day, though my reasons differ.
My ‘father’ was a predator; evil and sly and showed the world only a smiling face. I also grew up as the ‘guy’ but only because my mom ended up with a bad knee and someone had to do the heavy lifting. She moved across the entire country to get me away from my dad. She had lousy taste in men, but she made up for it.
As another of my favorite authors have said “It’s not “good to be a kid,” and it’s silly to pretend that it is. For some kids, it’s the most perfect and blissful time of their whole lives; for other kids, it’s a P.O.W. camp.”-Andrew Vachss.
I’ve come a long way from that hard, distrustful woman, but it hasn’t been easy and I still struggle even now. But that’s okay; it’s possible to transcend and break the cycle, which is just what you did-you are not raising your daughter to hate all men and to think she’s ugly. You broke the cycle, so did I. Some don’t, however, and then they throw the switch. That’s how we get things like Ted Bundy and the Denver, CO theater shootings.
Thank you for sharing your story, it was uplifting.
God Bless your grandma.
Trinity has the benefit not only of two fathers, but a pretty cool mother too. One who knows men are not all evil bastards who want to hurt them, and you pass that along to her too. I cannot identify with your story as I did have a father growing up. He was not violent, just very, very undemonstrative and Victorian. My mom died when I was 20 from cancer and he was left with a 17-year old boy, a 20-year old girl (me) and one other married daughter. He did not know what hit him, but he learned to relax more than I had ever dreamed he could. He didn’t have a thing to say when I moved out at 24 to live with the man I married. We’ve been together since 1979 and I love him more now than I did when I married him. My soul mate, which sounds like what Jonathan is to you.
Looking forward to your new book. I have already preordered it from Amazon.
Wow! Thank u for sharing a piece of your life with us your loyal fans, I must admit, I rarely cry or get emotional about anything, but this just had me shedding some tears, you are one of the strongest women ive ever know and a great role model. May the Goddess bless u always!
I can understand how difficult that could be to grow up in with someone pushing a person to both be both strong and independent in the way they want and any deviation as something bad or unacceptable. Reading you story I can see how some of these themes come out in your writing. It makes sense that Anita covets anger and learns not to be weak but softer when it comes to her relationships as she’s both a very strong minded person as well as very independent, the man of the house, having multiple men is like a form of therapy, helping her to come to new realizations and more possibilities in how to express emotions and allow herself to depend on someone else for emotional support and love, though very cautiously, and in a very bad ass sort of way.
You are awesome for sharing this amazing part of your life with your fans and i am a huge fan! Once I found your books, I couldn’t stop reading! Anything with your name on it, I’ve read and loved! This blog /post explains a lot actually. Lol. You’re one tough cookie if I may say so. I’m sure you get this a lot and the last thing I want to do is sound cliche but I can relate. Having a mourner who divorced my father when my brother and I were very young and never marrying again. I was always the “tomboy” i still am… Only with a feminine side now. I love guns, knives, going to the shooting range and i boxed (you know, in the ring lol) for a lot of years) and I’m Hispanic. So, Anita is my hero! And so are you! I love reading about you. The fact that you are so open about you life makes me love you that much more! You are living proof that we can be whoever we want to be, gender and race aside. I just wish there really were vampires and were-anything, fairies and zombies for us to know and perhaps fight! Lol you write it so awesome that I really do wish it was all real! Love you and I can’t wait to read Affliction! Keep doing your thing mama!
Everyone says this was my story; also mine except my mother left me at 3 yrs old. Raised by my father same story of strength but always wondered what a mother would be like. He was single until I was seventeen. He was a flight engineer in the Air Force so I was along with babysitters most my life. I’m happy your life is being lived to the fullest. Mine also. Survivors
I really appreciate you sharing all this. I can relate so much. I grew up with no male figure around except my mom’s occasional boyfriends or the rare visits to see my father who lived on the opposite coast. My daughter has a somewhat relationship with her father who lives far away but she has been bonding with her new stepfather the past few years. It’s nice to have a good example of what a father and husband are suppose to be like for her. Thank you again for sharing!
I knew there was a lot of you in your books. They rang true in my heart, the things you wrote about Anita’s childhood. As I embark on my own writing journey, whether published or not, I will rely on my own untraditional childhood AND adulthood. Thanks for the inspiration Laurell!
Much thanks to you for sharing your life! I had a much different, more privileged, storey-book, traditional reel playing in my head when I though what your life must have been like.
I too am from a long line of forceful women but my sis and I were raised by a single father. He only did the heavy lifting if I proved I couldn’t do it myself. 🙂
Then I proceeded to single parent raise a daughter (after her father died) that I guess I made too independent for either of our goods, in her teenage years especially! My lesson in ‘be careful what you wish for’.
I’ve always enjoyed Anita’s and Merry’s adventures more than I can say. The first book I read was Obsidian Butterfly and it quickened a kindred spirit in a forgotten, locked room in my head. I thought the book was hysterically funny, forcefully exciting and incredibly engaging. I didn’t want to live in my world anymore. I was hooked! It made me want to be a writer of this genre too!
Went to the half priced bookstore to get the first books in the series and began panting for the next book after OB and awaiting hard covers yearly thereafter.
By book 10 (after I’d actually scribbled a few pages here and there), I was more jealous of your imagination and writing abilities than I was the aesthetics or talents of any actress or runway model.
I bought every book in hard cover till the last 2, after I got my Kindle and went digital.
Last year I gave away my collections and repurchased all of them again, from both series in digital form.
I am truly a fan of the characters, books, histories you’ve created. And after reading this blog I am truly a fan of you.
Your story and mine are quite close. My parents divorced when I was older though. I was 9 when they split & 10 when my mother decided she didn’t want to be a mother or a wife anymore. She did, however, want the child support money. Losing my mother sent my father into a mental breakdown & he was mentally & physically unable to take care of us. My sister was 4 years younger than me. My mother started seeing a barrage of other men. She would leave for months at a time, and not return home. I got my first job at 11 when the utilities kept getting turned off. Someone had to pay them. My mother was off god knows where and there was no such thing as cell phones. We had to eat. Every morning I got up, dressed us for school, fed my sister and got her on the bus. Every evening I did her homework with her and fed her supper. I was lucky to land a job where my sister could play in a corner while I worked. I paid bills, fed us, went to school, and acted like nothing was wrong. There was no one to call & no one to help. Resentful is not a strong enough word to tell you what I was as we grew up. I was lonely. I was a make shift mother where a real one should be. I was angry. When I was 18 and about to graduate high school, my dad popped back up. He got himself together and decided he was capable of playing dad again. My sister had limited memories of those days. I think she chooses to not remember them. They were hard. Even at age 11, I was smart enough to know that if anyone found out about us living alone, they would separate us and put us in the system. Much time has passed since those days. I have married, divorced, & remarried. The hardest thing I have ever done in my life was to trust someone with my heart. It was part of the end of my first marriage, and the risk I finally took on my second. I have 3 step-children and a child of my own now. I rarely see my dad, and although then I blamed him a lot for what happened, I understand now that he really had very little choice in the matter. Some people are just built stronger than other. My mother showed back up in my life a few years ago. I’m over holding the grudge against her, but I doubt I will ever respect her. It took a long time to get past the anger and resentment, but the only person it was really hurting in life was me. My husband is a great father and a wonderful husband. Sometimes I still find it hard to lean on him, but he is always patient with me. I’m glad you were able to find great people in your life. I wanted to share my story with you because I find the hardest part of my past is remembering I am not alone in my experience.