Home » A Wasted Life » My Little Boy – To Be Continued

My Little Boy – To Be Continued

I have dodged another painful part of my life by intentionally omitting information about my son…..my little boy who was cursed with the alcoholic gene, inherited from Loser and R***.
Today, I found out that my son is in jail.  Last night he was arrested for DUI.
How many more times can my heart be broken before I literally give up?
My little boy……
I had gone through an eight year battle with R*** telling me that I HAD to have a son and name him after Loser.  I had endured her accusations of it being my fault that we only had girls.
I knew I was going to have a boy, and when I made it clear that R*** was no longer going to dictate what I could or couldn’t name my children, I was chastised by Loser when he screamed “you have to decide whether you love me more than you hate my mama.”  He had been raised to believe and had always thought it was his inherent right to have a son named after him and there would be no debate.
It was another submission but I thought it would mean something to Loser when this wonderful little creature was born and I named him J*****.  Every day, I wish I hadn’t.
Could it have been preordained that my little boy would be cursed because I took away my mama and daddys’ son?
I have NEVER believed that I would finish paying for killing one of Gods’ precious children, but why would He place my sin onto my son?  I know the bible says that the sins of the father will visit the children but he was another precious, innocent child and he deserved a chance.
Was he cursed to try to bring Loser down a notch or two?  Was he cursed to put a smudge on that Goddamn name that to Loser is tantamount to royalty?
Loser literally “washed his hands” of him long ago when he emailed me and said “that’s it.  We’re through with him.”  He has his attachment to focus on now so he doesn’t care what fate awaits our son.  He always left it up to me to take care of “things” anyway and there’s no chance that he would take time away from that fucking attachment to spend time with his son, even now that he’s retired.
When B***** called me crying and said “I never remember dad doing anything with J***** but yelling at him,” it pierced me through because she was right.  Loser HAD to have a son named after him and that little boy meant no more to him than as if he had been a dog.  Actually, Loser may have paid more attention to a dog than he did to his son.  When I met Loser, he had a cat named Cowboy.  He had taught him to “fetch” his crumpled up cigarette packs and was delighted when they “played” together.  That took time and he spent time with his cat.  He never had a lot of time to spend with J*****.
Like Loser, my son is brilliant.  He is an artist who draws intricate pictures, containing enigmatic messages that remain hidden until he wants them to be divulged.
He doesn’t disclose much about what he is thinking, unless he is under the influence and even then, it’s hard to discern whether they are his true feelings.
When he was almost four, we moved to M*******.  Before the furniture was even in the house, J***** started walking up and down the street, knocking on doors.  He would introduce himself and then ask if they had any “kids his age.”
He didn’t realize what had happened when Loser dropped us off and then left.  It probably wasn’t much different from any other time.  Loser was never around anyway.
He was such a precious little boy.  He loved to come sit in my lap while we were watching television and I would run my fingers through his hair.
One day while his sisters were at school, he was sitting on the floor playing.  He looked up at me and said “do you like me better this time?”  I was stunned.  I immediately went into reincarnation-question-mode.  I was thinking about the first child that Loser and I had lost, which was a boy.
Had he indeed come back to me?  Was it my fault that he had gone away the first time and I was getting a second chance?  Or, had he come back to fulfill some awful Heaven sent scourge that was not only designed to be his punishment but mine as well?
Months later when Loser came back home, I told him what J***** said.  I told him my thoughts and voiced my supposition of possible reincarnation.  Not only was Loser uninterested in my “ridiculous notions” as he put it….. He didn’t even remember that we had lost a child.
I protected and babied my little boy.  The girls had each other but he was the only boy.  I favored him, sometimes at the expense of my daughters.  I have never tried to deny or hide that fact and I have apologized to them many times.  Being the youngest and only, I guess I thought he needed my protection and attention more.  He got little to none of either of those from Loser so I tried to be the mama and the daddy not only to him but to my daughters, too.
One time my daughter B*****, said “I’ve noticed that every time you say J*****s’ name, you smile.”  It was true.  I feel guilty now.  Did she ever see that smile when I said any of their names?  She noticed that, at a fairly young age which is why I always thought she shared my insightful observations.  I did make a point to tell her years later that one of my counselors said “when you talk about B*****, your eyes light up.”
I am sad to say that I no longer smile when I say my sons’ name…and my eyes lost the light that accompanied the verbiage associated with B***** years ago.
Like his sisters, J***** was a superb soccer player.  He was (as were they) a joy to watch.  He could dance with a soccer ball as if it were Ginger Rogers.  Referees would tell him he was headed for the U. S. National team.  That would end, though.
When he was fourteen, we sent him to Brazil to go to school and play soccer, sort of like a foreign exchange student.  He would write often and all seemed well.  A family had agreed to take responsibility for him while he was over there.  It was supposed to be the chance of a lifetime for him.
It wasn’t until he came home that we found out that the daddy waited until J***** got there to run away with his mistress and left J***** and the mamas’ two other sons to their own devices.  The mama couldn’t control them and they ran wild.
I didn’t know it at the time, but J***** not only came home a smoker…he came home a drunk.
J***** started getting into trouble at school and stopped caring.  He would fake his report cards and would have other students sign his “progress reports.”  Being as blind and trusting with my son as I was with Loser, I didn’t see it and even if I did and questioned him, I believed his lies.  His sisters knew some of the things he was doing but they didn’t tell me.
He was stealing money from me and even when Loser caught him, I lied for him because I didn’t want Loser to start smacking him around and yelling at him.  Losers’ beers started disappearing.  I certainly didn’t count them but Loser noticed.  I was in the forever denial stage just like I had always been.
When Loser took me to S*. A******** for my birthday, the girls and J***** stayed behind.  Loser had been given a six-hundred dollar bottle of Armagnac for his birthday the year before.  While we were gone, J***** drank it.
I had always been lucky when it came to finding money.  I had a three-foot tall glass vase that I kept all the “found money” in.  It was almost full and when we got back, all the money was gone along with the “walking Liberty” silver dollars, the mercury dimes, the first issued and stamped two dollar bills and the Susan B. Anthony dollars that I had collected for them.  I don’t think it bothered Loser that J***** had taken my money and other things that belonged to me.  He did care that J***** had devoured his precious booze.
I should have had those things locked up but like with Loser, I could not imagine anything less than honorable when it came to my son.
When we would go out, J***** would take one of our cars and go joyriding around.  We came home one night and the van had a flat tire.  It was split wide open but it had a nail stuck in it.  J***** had hit a curb and then put the nail into it, thinking it would fool us.  Loser did his usual screaming at him but even then….EVEN THEN….I didn’t start hiding the car keys.  I thought when he promised me that he would never do it again, he meant it….and I believed him.

4 thoughts on “My Little Boy – To Be Continued

  1. We’re all products of our environment. In some cases we’re able to build a shield strong enough to keep out the demons, sometimes not. Prayers for your son and his Mother.


  2. Well, this would be heart wrenching. A bad husband & mother in-law are one thing a child who behaves like him is another. I suggest tough Love, since babying him now will let him continue to treat you badly. So so sorry, I’ll pray for your strength


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