As a boy no one wanted me. I had no toys. But I’d look at this beautiful world.
I’d laugh & giggle. I’d chase butterflies.
Now winter is coming. I barely survived last yr. my room has no heat. I have no light. I sleep on a tiny cot.
I’m already starting to roll up in my blankets.
I have 3. Ones more a sheet.
When winter hits I’ll put on all 3 shirts I own. Both pairs of my pants. My coat. I’ll roll up in all 3 blankets. I’ll shake. My teeth will chatter.
I’ll get so sick once again. But no money for doctors. I’ll spend all I have on my transplant meds.
I live on a mountain in deep woods. I can barely tell when the suns up.
I’m so tired. My muscles won’t listen. They do what the want. So much pain. No pain pills. I wake up with bugs crawling on me. I wake up shaking as I relive my childhood.
My ending is so much like my beginning. I once spent two yrs locked in a pitch black room. It got so cold in the winter. It hurt to breath. Last winter was the same. I barely lived. I fear very little. But I fear this winter.
When I die I’ll go home to Heaven. But I must try to live. My kids still need me even if they don’t know it. I’m the one who fixes their home. I could have had a trailer but I used the $ to try to save their moms life. And to pay for my autistic sons therapy.
They think I abandoned them. No. She divorced me. I moved away because this rent is cheap. That way I can help pay to keep their house. When I die they will loose their house. If their mom & I both die they’ll have no one. I have no life insurance. They won’t sell me any.
So I have to try to live.
It’s saturday. I must will myself to go see them. They don’t want to see me. Their mom told them I abandoned them. They are teens. Used to be so happy. Now so sad. She thought divorce would fix her. Made her worse.
I got a blood infection. Made me much worse.
But I’m no quitter. I must will my body to work. Go work on their house. I sense this is my last winter. So I must beat the cold. Fix the stuff outside. Then as much inside as I can.
If this is my end I want to do all I can for them before I die.
They don’t realize it but I was quite the artist. People offered over $1,000 for my paintings.
I’ve only ever sold one drawing. All the rest I saved for them. That was their inheritance. When she kicked me out she threw them in the trash. Tore them out of frames. They are in a giant trash pile decomposing. So funny. I wasted so many hours. They were beautiful. Now like me, just garbage.
She dropped one face down. Every time I see it it’s in worse shape. The fronts face down & still nice. Every time I almost pick it up.
Nope. I leave it. She threw it down there. Just like she threw me away. So I’ll just let it go. In a few months it’ll be in the trash. The world will never know I was an artist. I was offered scholarships. But I chased the money. I’d take my art from classes & tear it up.
Shall I paint the bed today? My daughter loved Barbie. So I painted her bed Barbie pink. Now she wants another color. I’ll try to use my arthritis hands with all the muscle spasms to repaint it. Gotta work on the bathroom too.
All I have 6 days a week are memories. This is my one day to see them. I’ll make the long drive. Pray my car makes it. I’ll go without eating today to pay for gas.
I’ll smile & pretend to be well. I’ll hope they talk to me. I’ll fix what I can.
They don’t know I have to do without to pay for the supplies. That I skip some meds.
They don’t know I sleep on a cot so they keep their house. They don’t know how much I love them.
They blame me for the divorce. That’s OK. Somebody has to be the bad guy. Might as well be me. But I was the one who worked 70 hrs a week to buy that house. To buy those beds & books.
I was the one who fought my disease for yrs so I could hold their hand; change their diapers; teach them to read, Coach little league. I loved them with all my heart.
I hoped one day they’d see all my art. Pictures & paintings of them as they grew up. But my ex threw that all away.
There’s not even many pics of me. No parents to take any of me. I’d hide on picture day at school.
I held the camera to take pics of them. No one ever thought to take pics of me. I wonder if they will be able to remember what I looked like.
There’s one pic of me as a teen. They saw it & said who’s that girl. She’s pretty. So I didn’t tell them. That was me. I always looked like a pretty girl.