Oh No, She Saw Me

Taboo Word  9/13/16

When I was seen, I wasn’t in a good place.  But I’m already getting ahead of myself.  I have two brothers, both younger than myself.  Every time we went to a store with my mother, my brothers and I were in competition with each other, to see who could bring home the best, and the most stuff – without paying for it.

There was a little variety store in a town near us, and my mother went there often, though I don’t know why.  I cannot remember a single thing that she would bring home from the store.  Now this store was your typical five and dime store.  After you came in the door, straight ahead of you was the cashier, and an aisle went down each side of the store.  There was a break between the two aisles, and after the break, on the left side, was where the toys were on display.

It was like heaven to us, when we were younger, and if my mother bought us anything, it was a rare occasion.  But we always came home with more than what my mother actually paid.  Where we hid things, I have no idea.  When we got home, we would gather in my room (Why was it always MY room?), and compare the things that we each brought home.  Back then, we didn’t think about the fact that we were stealing something.  We were just having some fun, and bringing home stuff was like a game to us.

In another town about 12 miles away was famous baseball museum, and playing field as well.  But I couldn’t tell you, to save my life now, the name of that baseball field.  But the National Hall of Fame Game is played there every year.  During the summer, we would go up and down the street, just trying to find a parking space.  This was difficult during the summer, because there were so many tourists, they just clogged up the entire street from end to end.

About midway down the street, there was a department store, and it even had stairs down to a lever level.  The lower level was where the 45 rpm records were available.  The paperback books were also down on that level.  At that time, I was an avid reader, and would devour two to three books a week.  It was hard to find books that I was interested in, so it took me some time, browsing through the books, trying to find a couple that I hadn’t already read, or even wanted to read.  It was also the same while hunting through the records.  There seemed to be so many popular songs during the 70’s, it was difficult to make your selections.  When my mother came to round us up, our ‘treasure hunting’ for that visit was over.

One afternoon, the fatal afternoon, the inevitable happened.  I had collected a variety of things, including books and records.  I went back upstairs to find my mother, as it was the end of summer and my mother was buying our new school clothes.  A friend of the family worked in that store.  On this memorable evening, I eventually noticed that she was trailing me around the store.  She was onto me!  What do I do?  I moved around, trying to find a place to hide and ditch everything I had on me.  If I didn’t have anything on me, I wouldn’t get into trouble.  Right?  Wrong, very wrong.  I managed to get a stack of cartons between me and this woman, and I pulled everything out from under my shirt, and there she was.  “No, no, no you can’t do that.  She collared me and dragged me off to the manager’s office.  They then paged my mother, and my heart sank lower than my heels, I think.

When my mother showed up, they told her I had been caught shoplifting, and I was not allowed in that store alone again.  You would have thought she was the one who had been caught.  She took my shoplifting personally.  My mother was a narcissist, and everything was about her, and how she was affected by such affronts.  She hustled us out the back door, after buying her purchases.  After that night, though, I was the one who felt embarrassed.  As soon as we entered the store, even while staying right at my mother’s side, the manager would follow us all around the store, every time we stopped to look at something, he stopped and waited,

I did learn my lesson, although I don’t know if my brothers did.  I never took a thing after that night, either something in a store, nor from anyone else.  After coming to know more of the Bible, I had an even stronger determination to taking anything, ever.  If I found something that someone had obviously forgotten, or dropped, if there was no one there to turn it over to, I left it right where I found it.  I would expect the same in return.  That way, I would find my lost item, and stop being in panic mode, looking everywhere.

The moral of the story?  I learned to never again shoplift or otherwise take something that did not belong to me.  I couldn’t embarrass my mother like that again.  I was always the one to pay the price, actually about three times the price, by being subjected to my mothers narcissism.  I was going to try to avoid that, at all costs.

In case you haven’t figured it by now, this post was written without using the taboo word of the day.

You can see today’s taboo word below. Visit Eric, author of the All In A Dad’s Work blog and creator of the challenge, for details on participating.


Click the blue frog to read others taking part in this fun challenge 



Family – Real Or Not?

I have a small family. I have a large extended family. I have a spiritual family. I have an online family.  🙂

I am not currently engaging with anyone in my family(ies), except I am always engaging with my online family, both here and on Facebook. My small family consists of myself and two brothers. One has distanced himself so far away that I never hear or see him (except for my mother’s funeral). He does not call or send greeting cards for any occasion. My other brother lives far away and I don’t get to see him often. He is the youngest and, like myself, has many talents. If I would have to name my closest family, it’s the family I have with him and his wife.

I have no sisters, and I am the oldest in the family. All of us scattered far away from the place we called home, but was just a house with five people living inside. ‘Home’ was a tiny town in Upstate New York. Now the oldest brother lives in Sanders KY, the youngest in Whitesboro TX, and I reside in Racine, WI. We all are spread far from home, and each other.

If I were to ask myself why this might have happened, the answers are difficult to actually form as words on the computer screen. All three of us were emotionally and physically abused by my mother, and I also lived with sexual abuse from my father. Maybe if we lived closer together, it would trigger some of those old memories that are buried deep inside each of us. I’m sure that our perspectives were all different, as we all remember things in different ways. But I know that we all have some memories that will always haunt us, whether we are able to voice them or not. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers and sister-in-law very much and that will never change.

There is one other person that I would have to add as family. He was my mother’s boyfriend after my father died, and before she died of cancer. He is like a dad to me, a real dad who loves me, cares about what and how I’m doing, and shows this often. The only problem is that he lives back in New York, and I don’t see him very often, and his phone calls are sporadic, as he is always busy traveling around the country, or bowling, or any of a number of things. He is my ‘Dad’.

So, I live a solitary life, occasionally interacting with some of my neighbors, but not often. It’s just myself and my cat. She is good company but doesn’t compare to live human beings. I do not feel loved, or needed, or even cared about, at times.

I continue on, often in the throes of depression, but I kicked the alcohol 17 years ago. I kicked the cigarettes almost nine years ago. But I still do not take care of myself. They ask me every time they see me if I have eaten, how often do I eat, and what do I eat when I do eat. I do not exercise, except when I’m competing in sports that are adapted for wheelchair users. I forget to take medications all the time. They don’t work well if I don’t take them.

Sometimes I just want to give up. Being alone is a hard, but a safe way for me to live. I have at times given up and the results were never good. So I keep on going, family or no family.