This is what ran through my 12 year old mind every day. I was a bad girl & needed to be punished. That kind of sounds like some S & M crap now but back then it was me, my life, who I was & would always be.

It was early in the morning & I was 11. The month was November & the day was the first day of the rest of my pathetic life.
The night before my Dad & I had a typical fight.
Dad: Clean up this room!!!
Me: I don’t want to clean my room.
Dad: This room better be clean when I get home.
Me: Whatever!
My thought: I hate you, you just don’t understand. I have sooooo much to do, I don’t have the “time” to clean my room. My garbage pail kids need to be organized, calls to make, pants to tight roll. Whatever!
This will be replayed over & over in my mind everyday for much of my teen hood & adult life.
Back to the morning in November-
A knock on my door woke me up.
Dad: Time to get up & take your bath. I see you cleaned your room, it looks good.
Me: Thank you Daddy.
I don’t stay mad long, I think I learned that from my parents. I rushed into the bathroom to take my bath. I was having to go to school early that day for a rehearsal. I was in a nutcracker school musical. Yay me! What the Hell was I thinking back then. It must have been mandatory.
I remember stepping out of the bathroom leaving the warmth behind. The house was very chilly that morning. If only I would have stayed in that bathroom I could have froze time. The light in the kitchen was on & as I turned the corner I could see Daddy. He was standing with his hands gripping the sides of the counter. I caught a whiff of coffee in the air. His shirt was unbutton & he had on those Jean shorts Mom could Never stand seeing him in.
Me: You Ok Dad?
Dad: I’m not feeling so well. I think I’m gonna sit for awhile. Go on and finish getting dressed. We don’t want you being late.
I rushed to finish, there was something wrong. I swear I had a feeling. There was something wrong about his appearance, his voice, the way he walked.
I followed the coffee smell out to the living room & he was pale.
Dad: Go get your Momma Sheila.
Me: Yes Sir.
I ran down the hall as quick as I could. I screamed for my Mom to wake up. She was a very sick lady, we will go into this later. She died a year after Daddy, so waking her out of her slumber was not the easiest to do. Normally I would have been gentle to wake her, sweet even. Not today, I grabbed her from her sleep & yelled how there was something wrong with Daddy. She needed to get up Right now!!
God Bless her, now as a wife I can only imagine how scary that must have been. How terrified she must have been. What was she dreaming before I woke her & changed her life. No control, she had no control over her life being changed at that very moment.