Here I am, now what do I do? Family issues. Legal issues. Personal issues. And it's all ugly as hell. First, the whole fam-damn-ily.
My son got in a spot of trouble, if you count a high speed police chase at 140 mph, a spot. This is the first real emergency that I have had to handle on my own. I can say this is the first real trouble he's ever been in, but it scared the crap out of me. And I know you're sitting back saying, "Well. if that were my son.... " And I will say exactly what I've been saying to everyone else, "Well, doll face, he ain't yours. When your son walks downstairs and finds his father in cardiac arrest in the living room floor and he's all alone doing CPR when the paramedics arrive, tell me what you would do." Do not presume to know what you would do in any given situation until you step into my 5 inch platforms.
I had to keep the cool head which made life a tad difficult for me. They had to get him out of a police car so that I could speak to him and tell him to say nothing as I was contacting our attorney. His nose was bleeding, he was dirty and Jesus Christ on the Cross, he was barefoot. The police officers roughed my son up and I didn't turn into a spider monkey on espresso. I asked what happens next and Officer Testosterone Jackass the Third (that's my story as to his name and I'm sticking to it) started yelling at me that they were gonna do this, this and this like I was the criminal. I looked at him and said "I didn't ask for a smart ass answer." at which time my friend laid his hand on my shoulder to remind me to compose myself. A second officer, named Sergent I-Understand-You're-Upset told me how long it would take to process him and where he would be for me to go see him. I looked at Officer Jackass and said "See how easy that was??? People like you are what causes police officers to be despised." I then turned to Sergent Upset and thanked him kindly for all of his assistance. Bravo to 'Buni for not going to jail with my son. I handled everything including the bail without asking anyone for anything. I had a lot of support out of 3 dear friends. You know who you are and I love you. Mwahs. You make me graceful in these Stripper shoes.
Then, if the episode had not upset me enough, my husband's step father, the pastor, came by the house. I was asleep and my son called back to ask what I wanted to eat and told me he had been here so I called him. I guessed that he was going to try to read me the riot act, but I called and asked him what was up. I held my tongue and answered his questions. Evidently my son ended up in the newspaper, picture and all. Then he decided that he was going to tell my son what a disappointment he would be to his father and the gloves came off. I peeled him like a grape. He lives practically in my backyard and hasn't even called his grandson to say "Hey how 'ya doin?" since March. I told him what a lowly piece of crap he and all of the men in that side of the family are and that the only one who treats us like family is my husband's biological father. Then he decided to tell me I am the one who caused all this. Again, when you can walk in these 5 inch platforms preacher man, come getcha some of this. I handle my conversations with God in my own way. I haven't moved away from the Lawd, I've simply moved away from you and yours. So unless you can pray quietly in the damned corner, stay outta my way. Standing here arguing with you is making my feet hurt so I got some walking to do.
My mother in law calls the next day and says she found her husband crying in the kitchen when she got home. I actually said "Good, welcome him to my world." Evidently my filter is gone or I have finally chewed through the leash that Richard kept me on for almost 22 years. I'm not sure which but the anger tasted good for once. She actually got in line and is behaving admirably. I love this lady but I swear to God that my hip boots have worn out and I don't care for BS on my Stripper shoes.
Legal issues??? Yeah I know all about 'em. I got a good lawyer and he's gonna cost a pretty penny. But I think that eventually it will all be okay. He's a good old country boy that will do whatever is necessary to help my son. He's also handling some estate stuff for me, but more about that later.
Personal issues??? I have begun sorting Richard's things as he is haunting my house. I have been sequestered in my bedroom going through drawers, closets and desks. I've found many things that have made me cry, made me laugh and made me scratch my head. I am looking for my independence among the ruins of my life. The rosy pictures that once ran through my head are now being replaced with the realities of my life. My husband and I loved each other passionately. Ladies and gentlemen, that does not make for an easy marriage. It means everything runs hot. We loved hard and we fought hard. We screamed "I love you" more often than it came with a tender kiss. But that is commitment. That is a real marriage that we fought and screamed and let blood over for almost 21 years. To love with your whole heart you must be willing to leave everything on the floor everyday. When there is a chronic illness, you've got to take it all or leave it. That's what the vows mean. In sickness and in health, in rich and in poor, blah, blah, blah. Richard was my best friend, he was my husband, he was my partner in crime, and the love of my life. He was my true north and now he is gone. So while I was in closet I began to look at my extensive shoe collection. Ain't no shame in my game, I am hated by some of the girls with big feet cause if it's on display, I can buy it. I am famous for my shoes. So through my tears, I see a lightbulb go off. So as I'm dragging a chair into the closet, I remembered, he loved my love of shoes. He said that when I had on my "big shoes" I was at my most graceful, beautiful and fearsome. To go to his wake I wore a charcoal pnstripe suit with a royal blue turtleneck and some 6 inch platforms that made me over 6 feet tall. For his funeral, I wore a fierce, black suit, some rock star sunglasses and a sick pair of 5 inch platform pumps. He loved me dressed to kill. That was the last time I turned it out and it's been 7 months. That is who he called "his Hunibuni." He named me off the chick in the movie "Pulp Fiction" who is so down to ride with her man that she has the gun in the cafe robbery. Rich always said I'd never be able to bail him out of jail because I'd be sitting beside him. Hell yeah, that's me.
So here is what I have done. I took off my flip flops and pulled on a pair of 5 inch black patent Mary Jane's. Bad as hell. Because now, I gotta be down to ride for me and my son. I'm finding my grace, my beauty and the steel that I've lost outta my backbone. They're right here among the rubble. I have to remember somewhere that I am a bad bitch. But you know what, it's all in them shoes girls. It's all in them shoes. ;-)