It was then that the grandmother reveled to me the source of her anger. Her granddaughter was also her husband’s child. So grandpa was also dad. In other words, the grandpa had sex with his then 13 year old daughter, and this child was the result. The grandmother agreed to raise the child, but every time she looked at her, it was a reminder that her husband had raped her daughter. It was also a reminder of why her own daughter ran away from home after the baby was born, and was never seen or heard from again. Unfortunately, she took it out on the child. As far as the child she was cheerful and bubbly, not terribly intelligent, but certainly not stupid, either. The family moved at the end of the year. I’ve always wondered what happened to her.
While my mom was working nights as an ER admissions clerk, my dad would drag me along to a local ice house where he would sit and watch sports while he got drunk with his friends. One of the guys who hung out there noticed that some of the drunks were kind of creeping on me (I was 5 to 6 years old). So he started sitting at the back corner table I preferred because there was enough light for me to read or draw. He would tell me corny jokes, ask about the book I was reading or whatever. Any time a drunk would linger on their way to the toilet, he’d give them what I came to identify as “the grandpa glare”. If I got hungry he’d buy me snacks.
Basically the guy just hung out there because his wife had passed and his daughter had moved to another state with her husband and kids. He just wanted to be around people. It didn’t take him long to realize I wasn’t a typical kid. I was reading high school level books by then and often on subjects like biology, chemistry, archaeology, mythology or whatever else was the main interest at the time. He didn’t talk down to me like a lot of adults did. When dad was too drunk to drive, he wouldn’t let him drive home with me in the car. He would insist on driving us home. He’d drag dad in and put him to bed. He’d set me up with snacks and juice and tell me to call him if I needed help.
Considering that my elder siblings would take off and leave me there alone with dad when he would go on a drunken rampage, it was nice to know that if he got too crazy, I had someone I could trust to help me until my mom could get to me. There was also an elderly Mexican couple that sometimes babysat me that would let me crash on their sofa when needed after they found me outside curled up with their dog in his house, reading a book to him by flashlight. My childhood was pretty messed up.
Technically a CNA is not called a nurse. It’s a degradation to real nurses that go through nursing school. I did go through 1 semester of it but that’s it. I only did clinicals as a CNA and as a Nursing student. However, the one thing that felt tragic to me was when I cared for my grandfather, he had prostate and esophageal cancer often referred to as throat cancer. He had a catheter that was inserted into his stomach. I would flush it, empty it, and clean it it. When I took him to the prostate Doctor my grandfather had to lie back as I held his hand and they inserted a tube into his penis.
I was at kohl’s with my sons and a stroller with my keys in the cup holder. This guy walked up and talked to us, and I thought he possibly worked there but then I realized he was just chatty. I went to help my kids try clothes on, and they kept some things on and I took the tags and we waited in line. Suddenly the police storm in and handcuff me. My kids start crying and I am confused. I state I have the tags to all my items in my hands and I told the lady I was doing it. I had assumed they thought I was trying to shoplift. the police then said they didn’t care about that, they wanted to know who the man was. I was totally lost, not remembering the brief conversation with the strange man. They were very aggressively asking me and finally loss prevention comes out with a picture and asks who is this?