For those unfamiliar with my story, Screwed Up: My Life, please start at the beginning here. The purpose of me writing this intimate account of surviving a difficult childhood is explained here. This story in its entirety can be found at Blurb.com and is available for purchase for $12.95 plus shipping and handling.
I remember getting off the plane and walking into the airport. Then I saw her...
She was standing in front of me with her new husband—her fourth husband and second since she had divorced my stepdad after we left San Saba, Texas and moved to Indiana just a few short years earlier. I met her with trepidation. I did not want to get close to her. She wanted to give me a hug and I so I complied, not a heartfelt hug did I give her, but one of just trying to get to the next point.
We walked outside and I could feel the hot, muggy air—we were definitely in Texas. Oh Dear God, what was I doing in Texas? My mother and her new husband asked if I felt hungry, and I was, so I ate my first meal in Texas at a Crackle Barrel restaurant. I recollect sitting at the table mostly looking at my plate of chicken fried steak and corn. I was hungry, but I could hardly eat as my stomach was twisted into a thousand knots from stress. I was emotionless…I mean, how is one supposed to behave when they’ve just left everything they love and care for and is then placed with someone they’ve been dreading for years? I did not know what to think and I did not want to think. All I wanted to do was find someone else to live with.
Before I had gotten on the plane to Texas, I had spoken with my friend from Oklahoma. She and I had met each other while I lived in Oklahoma with my father, Charlie. We spent many days together riding our bicycles and jumping on her trampoline eating sunflower seeds. Once, she and I walked to the Golden Corral together and bought buffet dinners. When it came time to pay, we literally pulled out a jar full of spare change and paid for our dinners with pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters—mostly pennies. Needless to say, we were asked not to come back unless we paid in larger bills.
My friend and I had become best friends in Oklahoma. Her grandmother, whom she lived, with had taken me in when I lived with my father and I had grown to like both of them. We had kept in touch through letters and packages over the years since I had moved from my father’s in Oklahoma. We wrote our letters and then placed them into homemade envelopes made from favorite magazine pages. I looked forward to every letter I got from her.
So, it was no surprise when I called my friend from Indiana and asked her if I could come live with her that she was excited. Her grandmother agreed to let me live with her. She and her grandmother booked a hotel and my mother and I visited them with my suitcase and duffle bag full of my belongings which I hadn’t even unpacked from Indiana. My friend and I took a dip in the pool and my mother and my friend’s grandmother spoke inside the hotel room privately.
It was settled—I was moving in with my long time friend!
My mother put me in their trust, a mutual agreement between my mother and I that neither one of us wanted to have the other in sight. It was a couple hard weeks living with my mother in Texas just waiting to leave. Yet, the day had arrived and I was leaving her apartment and moving to my friend’s home. This would be a welcome adventure and I knew that God was directing my life and making things happen for me. I just knew it!