I used to have a lot of anger toward my mom. Not any more.
When I was 15, we moved from my hometown in New Hampshire. I was really upset about that. I had a wonderful group of friends, I was just about to enter high school as a sophomore. We were going to rule the school, our little group. But, Daddy got laid off. The only job he could find clear across the country in Tacoma, Washington. He had found out and left in January of 1990, but Mom and I stayed behind so I could finish my freshman year with my friends.
A few months after we got out to Tacoma in August of that year, Mom went back to New Hampshire to sign papers on the house. While there, she met one of her friends for drinks. Well, it turned out that this friend was male and that they were in love with each other. When she returned home, she made the announcement that she would be divorcing Daddy and she and I were moving back East.
So, that started the anger. In January of 1991 (three days before I was to get my license at 16), we packed up and moved to New Jersey. I was really angry now. I started my new school and never quite fit in. Everyone had their own cliques and I was excluded. This continued until I decided in my senior year to drop out. I was bored anyway. I was understanding the curriculum before the rest of my class; I felt I could be at least earning money for my time. So, during Spring Break, I went and took my GED tests. By the time my class graduated, I had my own apartment and a full-time job as a bookkeeper.
Fast forward to now.
She and I had talked about what she felt when she decided to divorce Daddy. I didn't understand at the time how she could've done that to him. How she could've been so selfish to think of her needs and desires. She told me about how Daddy didn't enjoy the same things she did. She liked going out, to the theatre, movies, anywhere. He didn't.
Guess what? I understand all that now. I'm exactly where she was all those years ago. It's very odd. I know what decision she made.
I wonder what decision I'm going to make.