Life, Parenting And Relationships

A Train called Me

A Train called Me

I couldn’t have been more than fifteen when I complained to Mom about my little Gig stocking shelves at the Supermarket. Her Philosophical answer, to get by in this World you have to kiss Ass until you can kick em. Moral, as long as you are dependent you suck it up until you can do better. Man were those words ever riveted in my Brain. It was those words that kept me grounded and in check through my horrendous teenage, thinking at fourteen that I was my own Man. My attitude was rambunctious believing that I could do whatever I wanted to do. Still not able to feed and clothe myself or put a Roof over my head. Mother was not a difficult person, but her rules were to be obeyed.  Juvenile Delinquents are people who outright refuses to do what they are told thinking that they can skirt the Law. When my Kids were twelve and thirteen there was a Sign in my Basement Den, “now that you know everything, you can move out and pay your own way”. Now a Sign like that would have me kissing Ass.

At fifteen I knew the importance of a Job and not to grow up Illiterate. But I still couldn’t afford to move out. So that’s why  when she found my Ounce of Marijuana I shut my mouth and acted Repentantly. Even though It wasn’t long after that at sixteen, going to a Party she told me to be in the House by 12. While she was talking I could hear the little Demons in my Head “she is not talking to me” I’m coming home when I please, that is Delinquent thinking. Long after twelve I came stumbling home almost 6am Shit faced and all, what was I thinking that I could Rule a strong Willed Woman. She lay- waited me behind the Door with a Broom Handle that dropped me to my knees. Another JD would have gotten up and be conforontational, I took it like a man. Being a single Woman raising a child like me she had no choice but to be tough, otherwise I would have end up ruling her.

Once again more Ass to kiss, I disobeyed her wishes while I was living under her Roof,  they were to be respected, or move out, again I choose to stay and try to co-exist while not paying Rent. This is where a lot of kids develop misconceptions, thinking that their parents are obligated to put up with whatever crap they dish out on their parents. I knew that my Mother was not obligated, she had remedies like putting me in a Juvenile Detention Center. Instead she chose to work with me. When you get to the point where your parents can’t tell you anything, it’s time to move out.  My Mother and I got along famously  both strong Willed and neither afraid to match Wits. She would Bond with me to control my mindset of being bad, drowned me with Honey so she  could hardcore Reason with me. Then she would flip like a light switch with the ultimatums. She would look me in the eyes and told me at seventeen, if you leave this House, Don’t come back,  I was going to a meeting of the Radical Extremist Panther Party. How she knew what I was up to her name must have been Holmes. A good Parent have to be a Detective to know what their kids are up to.That’s a Great Mother. She would crawl in a Skark’s Belly to save her son, on the other hand she would put me on the Streets to see the Evil of my ways. Tough Love is using your wisdom and experience to break someone.

I was on a Runaway Train and she made it her Job to stop the Train called me. By eighteen Mother didn’t have to worry about who I was hanging with, where I was four A.m. in the morning or who the person I was becoming. Her Job was done, her values were a part of me, being responsible for my actions was my nemesis and doing Prison time was my Phobia. On the Road called Life people make wrong turns everyday, Kids aren’t exempt from losing their way. One of the hardest part of Parenting is not giving up on a child who have gone astray. At fourteen I didn’t need any help being a Deviant yet my best friend was a twelve year old Boy who attended Catholic School. a Deviant in his own rights.

He had access to more Marijuana than a Farmer, his older brother sold it, after School we would return to the Basketball Court in the School Yard and smoke the most potent strains till it was dark, and so were we. Gravitating to Street life have nothing to do with who the Parents are, his Parents were upward mobile Professionals and my Mother was a hard working Christian Woman. Without God’s hands working through my Mother the Streets would have won my Soul, chewed me up and spat me out in a New York State Prison. Today I work as a Contract Employee in a County Justice System, with a Criminal Record I could not have gotten the Job.

This is where my Life comes full Circle seeing all the Babies coming to Court, some barely twelve, some being Remanded and not going back Home. In an earlier Blog I stated that Teenagers know everything except projecting five years down the Road. Neil Young puts it Best ” old Man take a look at my Life I’m a lot like you were. Tom Petty’s Soul Asylum should be a Beacon for Wayward Teens like I was. I think about Pac all the time and wonder how his Life would have turned out with a Mother like mine.

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