He was there again this morning.

He approached my car and I rolled down my window for some fun.

He gave me the flyer, still holding on to the other side.

"Will you spare some..."
I didn't let him finish.
"I don't have any change".

He started to pull the flyer back..."when do you think you'll have some??? tomorrow?"

In the most patronizing voice.
If I EVER wanted to hurt a Senior Citizen, Lord Help Me, now was the moment.

I snatched the flyer back and rolled up my window.

It's on.

So there he was AGAIN.

The little old man who gives away leaflets of God near the intersection.

He's dressed very sharp and looks very sweet.

He approaches my car and I roll down my window. I grab onto the leaflet.

"Would you care to make a donation for a child we sponsor?" He points to a World Vision flyer he has in his shirt pocket.

"Um, I gave you a donation on Monday for your little dominican boy".

He started to snatch the flyer back.

"Well this little boy doesn't only eat on Mondays, he eats everyday and bathes every day!".

I looked in shock.

I snatched the flyer back and rolled my window up.


WTF???????????

You have no can with no picture on it, no ID, just some flyers and you were gonna snatch away the Word of God because I couldn't spare some change this morning.

Get out of the intersection tomorrow, if ya know what's good for ya.

This is what Mr. Savage (appropiate last name by the way) said about Autistic Children.

While my kid has now entered a little bit of Brat Territory, I can tell very well, when it's pure "I wanna drive my mom up a wall" or "My brain can't grasp certain things".

He is nothing short of an Ass and it is very clear everyone in his home is healthy and well, may he never have to go through what we go through.

I just had to put this in a separate post.

Sunday when we arrived at the beach, there was a little girl playing on the sand, I think she was maybe around 7 or 8. Very cute and pretty.

Her grandmother was watching from the shore, while catching up on some reading.

She asked if her granddaughter could play with Miss C since "she loved playing with smaller girls".

I of course said yes.

As a mom of a child with learning disabilities I immediately noticed something was quite not right with the girl. She reminded me soooo much of Miss C. But it wasn't something any regular eye could notice.

After a while I went in the water with them and played a bit, pretending we were all sorts of fish and water creatures, they both laughed and giggled.

Then we sat on the shore a bit.

Her other grandmother came and said: "Get in the water a little while, you shouldn't be taking in all that sun".

I quickly offered some of Miss C's sunblock.

Her grandmother turned to me with a smile and said:

"Oh no thank you.", she leaned in and continued, "She is a little retarded girl and I have to continuosly tell her to get in the water or she'll burn to death".

She said it so casually, so non-chalant.


I was speechless. I, who would usually say something back, was speechless.


I was disgusted. How can she refer to her like that with such disdain with such, yuck.
First of all, the girl showed no signs of being retarded.


She was a bit shy at first, but she engaged in converstation, she asked me if I was Miss C's mom, what grade was she in, she told me she was in a special classroom, she wanted to be a dolphin when we played in the water...that does not seem retarded to me.


Her grandmother left and her sister (a teen about 16) came over to watch over her.


We went in the water and played some more. Her sister watched and smiled at me. And laughed when she saw us playing in the water and playing with her sister. Something about her smile told me she was happy, that maybe for once, her little sister was being treated like what she was: a child.

There is a particular person, who I will not say who it is, or where they are from or how they surround or are related to me, that ALWAYS waits till I am eating to ask for some of my food.

"Ask" I mean, grab a plate, napkin or some sort of container and put their hands in MY food, load up their plate and leave.

"I just want a little".

I've been condescending, nice, quiet....have said nothing.

Don't wanna sound greedy.

But today I just about had it.

"You went to have lunch and you didn't tell me???!!...Ooooh I'm having some of those fries"

Then proceeded to take my empty fry pouch and self serve.

I stared in disbelief.

"You've got some nerve!!! This is my lunch, I bought a small amount for me and you're gonna take the little I have!!"

The person took my fries anyway and answered "Never underestimate a little bit of food. I had an aunt that cooked a little and managed to feed a lot of people".

WTF??
Is this some sort of fish and bread parable????
I am so getting a pocket-machete this weekend.

Um...I don't have a scanner so I'll just re-type:

"I have understood what the solution to this problem is. I am going to kill myself today. I understand that I am the problem and that this is the best way to finish it all. May God forgive me and may he punish all of you people who helped her. May it forever rest on your consciences."

Signed:
M.A.R.

aka

My Dad

This was the note left on the door this morning of their house.

My mom moved out yesterday. He came home early and caught her. He didn't know about the moving out bit. He suspected it. But shit hit the fan when he actually saw her. My family had to mobilize my mom quick before he went crazy and threw all the furniture out.

I came home to a home sans mom, furniture outside and neighbors busy poking about.

My mom had called me on my way home to tell me about the move.

asked if I can bring over her bedsheets which she couldn't take out in time.

I tried. But Vietnam was on a drinking spree and I did not want him to think I was some sort of accomplice.

Miss C. Smart cookie. Sensed something was wrong immediately and wanted Vader.

I had to take her in to show her Vader wasn't around.

Vietnam was locked in the room.

*knock knock*

No answer.

*bang bang*

No answer.

Miss C starts to cry.

"Dad...if you're still alive open up the door so Miss C can verify that Vader is not here...If your not alive..then I guess these previous instructions are void. We'll probably guess the later by the stench".

He opened up the door.
Stood there in his drunken stupor, smelling of wine and beer and kaos.

Looked at us.

Said nothing.

Held my daughter.

Got my butt upstairs.

In another part of our town, simultaneously, two friends were also having tough times.

I decided to go to Empress' house. We were both going through hell these past few days, and today was the pinacle of both our hells. A visit to her house would do us both good.

We bonded over chicken, fries and hugs.

And it was better.

Once home I was greeted by Vietnam who had a look of rage in his face that scared the crap out of me...he stood right in front of me and asked:

"Where were you???? Were you seeing your mother??!! Are you helping her out??!!"

"That isn't any of your business...but if you must know I was at Empress' house and I want no part of this war."

Silence.

I crawled up to my house.

True called. I asked him to come over. I needed the companionship. He came through. I wouldn't expect any less.

I am not sad. I haven't even shed a tear.
And that's amazing.
I am actually in peace.
Worried...but at peace..
at the same time..
weird, huh?

Vader called this morning...her sadness was very noticeable...she wants me to visit tonight with Miss C. I'm thinkin' bout' it.

On a plus note..if Vader stays away..she'll be more keen to take care of Miss C and I can have more KID FREE outings...

I have to look on the positive side.

And if by chance Vietnam does kill himself, my conscience is clean...very clean.

October 24th.

2006.