About this blog....

Welcome to Things In My Rear view Mirror. This is a collection of stories based on true events throughout my life. Some are very good memories, some are not so good. However, all are written from my point of view at the age they occurred. No harm, pain or otherwise negativity is meant with my writing. This blog is intended to help me heal as well as share with those important in my life the good, the bad, the ups and the downs that make me who I am and who I am proud to be today.
And no, I do not and will not change names.
All material, stories, pictures, videos on this blog and all it's pages are completely and fully the original work of Janet Jones and are not permitted to be used in any form without express written permission of the author Janet Jones. Protected by Copyscape DMCA Takedown Notice Infringement Search Tool

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Trip Home......Part 2... We lay in wait

As we reached the road my heart is securely pounding as if it will explode from my chest at any moment. I couldn't believe that neither of you did anything as in the past. Was it because my husband, Charles was there? Or was it because you are older and less capable of doing me physical harm? Either way I couldn't believe things had gone so smoothly.

It was getting more and more difficult to block my mind from allowing my heart to think it felt a connection again. My mind knows that it's not possible. It's all what I have many times called your mindfucking tricks. You play it up that you care. You play it up that I mean something; that you miss me; that you love me. And then like clockwork you turn into Jeckyl; laughing in my face and at my broken heart. I wouldn't allow it this time. I would remain strong and steadfast.

Just then I remember that this is really the first time that my husband, Charles has seen the craziness of my past, what I had been cursed to have as parents. What does he think? What is going through his head?

The phone rings and quickly startles me out of the traps of my mind. It's Julie and we discuss where to meet so that we can wait for you both to leave for the night. The decision is made to park at the old metal shop down the road where we can get a clear view of the property, house and driveway.

And so the wait begins.

The Trip Home......Part 1........So we meet again....

So much hurt. So much pain. So many memories both good and bad. I haven't seen either of you in around 8 years now. The last time I saw you mother you were laying in a hospital bed seemingly wishing you were dead. The last time I saw you dear stepfather was the same night when you realized it was me in the hospital room and you attempted to physically throw/push/shove me out of the room.

I really could have done without seeing either of you today. However, circumstances did not permit the pleasure of avoidance I have enjoyed for so many years. I would have waited all night long before attempting to go onto the property with either of you there, but my sister and her mother in law were on a time schedule and needed to get things done.

With several deep breaths I made the decision to just do it. Climbing in the van and following Julie down the long driveway my heart only beat harder and harder with every inch we drove closer to the house. What will you say? What will he say? What will either of you do? Will violence of some sort be involved yet again as it had so many times in the past?

Julie and her mother in law step out of their vehicle and approach Clem, her father, my stepfather. With one last breath and a quick glance at my husband I said, "I have to do it. I can't leave her (Julie) out there alone." I quickly jump out of my van before I could change my mind and holding my head high I walk up.

The look of surprise in Clem's face is astonishing. Dear Clem, did you think you would never see me again? Did you really think that you would never have to face the things you have done to me in the past? Are you surprised that I am strong and unwilling to back down? After all these years, after all the lies, after all the pain here I am once again. You, Clem will not win.

I hold my hands up in the air and state, "I am not here to cause trouble.  I simply came to support Julie. She asked me to come and I am here for her." Clem stutters something that I cannot understand and I take the moment to proudly introduce my husband who is standing guard behind me. Julie and Clem are talking but I realize that my heart is pounding so loudly I can hear it in my ears.

They begin to walk towards the house and Julie glances over her shoulder at me. For a fleeting moment I see that little girl I once knew in her eyes. My feet begin to carry me and I catch up behind her following her into the house. Clem calls out to someone we cannot see but know it's you mother. "Can Janet come in?"
Are you serious? Can Janet come in? Really? I think in my head. Of course Janet can come in. This is MY great grandfather's house that you have sold out from under the family without a care or concern in the world. I WILL come in whether it be now or later. The time doesn't matter much to me.

You stand up from your chair and come towards me with your arms open as if the years of hurt, anger and lies were never an issue. For peace sake I hug you and almost forget that I mustn't fall into the trap again of "being loved."  Neither of you are capable of what love really is. The two of you have dished out so much pain, lies and hurt through the years that now you have to hire strangers to help you pack and move. You both have alienated your family on both sides so much that you are scared now what either Julie or myself may say.

Both Julie and I play it "nice" and I simply stand there as she walks through the house attempting to locate items that once belonged to her. I being uninterested in most things simply gaze around the kitchen scanning for any items that had sentimental value to me.  My eyes settle on a huge roll of twine that had belonged to my great grandfather. Without taking two seconds to think I grabbed it and head for the door where my husband is standing in wait for us.  I shove the roll of twine in his hands and he instinctively turned to put it in our van.  I go back inside and stand in the kitchen acting as if nothing ever happened. Obviously, neither of you notice what I had done when you return. Inside I feel a sort of triumph. You wouldn't be able to take everything from me.

Julie makes a few more passes through the house with the two of you and I abscond my old wooden baby gate which had been lying discarded on the floor. Again, triumph!

Both of you return to the kitchen where I stood innocently and began small talk. You, mother had the nerve to ask me where my Uncle Bill had recently been buried. Only for respect of him did I answer you and explain that he had been cremated.  I didn't provide any other information. I didn't have to. You didn't seem too interested anyways.

As Julie and I were preparing to leave I gathered the courage to ask you for the old antique knobs off of the cabinets. Surprisingly you said yes and Julie and I began to unscrew them all in lightening speed.  Somewhere after the 4th or 5th one being taken off you laughingly muttered, "What you don't have enough yet?" And I told you, "No," as I kept unscrewing as many knobs as I could get off.

Julie and I then said some parting words (Me mostly mumbling about having to be back home to San Antonio soon.) and we walked out the door.  To my amazement neither of you followed us which gave both Julie and I enough time to grab the two metal shoe grates that Pat O'Neal had made years before and run to our vehicles with them.

Neither of our vehicles slowed as we made the trip back up the driveway to the road.

Emergency Rooms Again...

My heart sinks into my stomach as I read the text: Call me 911. I knew something was wrong. I knew like only a mother can know when one of her lion cubs is hurt. I knew it in the pit of my gut. I knew it in the bottom of my sunken heart.

While gulping a huge breath of air in an attempt to calm myself I dial the number. My ears are immediately overrun with her tears regarding you, my baby girl. It wasn't Cheryl's fault. She is one of the most caring and loving people I know. She fits right up there in my special list of people allowed to have my children for extended periods of time. However, in true mommy fashion she somehow thinks this accident is her fault and all I can hear her say over and over is I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Tanner, the dog you have known since you were about 2 years old and him about 6 weeks old snapped at you while you attempted to take his bone away from him. His teeth caught your skin and ripped it all the way down the right side of your perky little freckle covered nose.

How very brave you were that you weren't crying when you got to the phone to talk to me. The stuffiness caused by the injury nearly broke my heart. "Mama, it's not Tanner's fault. I knew better. I shouldn't have tried to take his bone away. Please don't be mad at him," you said.

I spent the next several minutes on the phone trying to comfort you from miles away. Trying not to allow myself to second guess my decision to let you go away for summer vacation without me.  You had done it so many times before and accidents can and do happen at home just as much as anywhere else.

I am preparing myself to make a maddening 220 mile trip to get to the ER when you are there although common sense tells me you would probably be out and back to the house before I ever got there.  The trip generally takes 3 to 3 1/2 hours on a normal day. We decided that if you needed me after you saw the dr. then I would come right away.

The next 2 hours were some of the most grueling times as a mother I have ever experienced. I am mommy and I am supposed to be there when my children cry. However, you weren't crying. In true Megan Beth fashion you had slipped into your cute little nurturer role and sat alternating between Cheryl and Bill's laps lightly tapping their backs trying to comfort them. You told me you did this so they would not cry.  I tried very hard but tears ran down my face. I hugged my big pillow and wished it were you.

Several hours into the by now what must have been 20 or so phone calls and texts I find out that you are watching animal planet and requesting purple stitches. I knew you would be ok at this point. Just as in the past you have always been a trooper and even more so since you had to settle for blue stitches instead of the purple ones you had wanted.

The next day you taught us all a lesson when you laid beside Tanner's kennel where he was locked up and stuck your finger through the cage to pet his nose. "Why did you do that Tanner?" You said, "You've never been that way before. You hurt me but even so I still love you."

Through all of that you still loved your best friend enough to forgive him for hurting you and through that I realize mistakes of all kinds do happen. If a 10 year old little girl can forgive that dog for scarring her for life physically but not scar her inside into fearing dogs I suppose I could stop a little in life and forgive those that may have hurt me.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Bathtubs, Emergency Rooms and Winks

I could curse that old bathroom tub over and over and still never have the satisfaction that it understands the depth of sorrow I feel when I remember your injury. The bone chilling scream that entered my ears still rings painfully to this day. I remember the feeling of helplessness as I attempted to race into the bathroom and feeling as if my legs were frozen in place. I slammed the door open only to see tears pouring from your face as you had fallen straddling the tub edge and cutting yourself on the old metal shower track.

Wrapping you in a towel I rushed you to the ER to sit and wait for the Dr. to examine. I was so proud of you when you asked him why he needed to look at you there because only mommy was allowed to do that.  After a long explanation and you agreeing only if mommy stays with me, you said, the doctor began his examination.

To my great relief the Dr. assured us that all was okay and we could return home. So, we packed up and returned home to a great big bowl of ice cream. After all it cures everything right? After a good movie and lots of cuddle time we set off to bed for the night.

Somewhere around the 1 am hour I was promptly awakened by a terrifying scream and popped my eyes open to see you, my Megan Beth, standing in my doorway with your pajama bottoms completely drenched in blood.  Your face was ashen white and your lips swollen bright red from dehydration.

Attempting to open your mouth to speak you instead collapsed on the floor from loss of blood. I quickly ripped your pajama bottoms off and wrapped you in a blanket while running for the front door.  Grabbing my keys and racing for the car with you in my arms I remember thinking that I could make it to the ER faster than an ambulance.

Within minutes we were rushed into a room where the nurse promptly hooked you up to an IV and I attempted very hard not to let the fear show on my face. I needed to be strong for you.

For the next hour or so my mind blocked out the surroundings as I focused on squeezing your hand hoping you would squeeze back, open your eyes or just do anything to let me know you were okay.  After another grueling two hours I let go of your hand long enough to lean back and readjust my position in my chair. As I reached for your hand I glanced at your face through the bed's side rail bars.

A feeling of hope washed over me as I caught your eyes peeking out of the covers.  And then all of a sudden I had to blink my eyes while questioning if I had seen correctly.  I leaned in a little closer and sure enough it happened again! You winked at me!

In that split second the world returned to normal and all the ER noises filled my ears. I jumped up and leaned down to plant a kiss on your head.  Carefully pulling the covers down you glanced over my shoulder at the TV in the corner and said, "I hate the wiggles!" And I knew then all was okay.

The next day daddy came in from work and literally ripped out the shower doors and all the old metal tracking.