Skip to main content

What If?

I think "what ifs" are an inevitable part of life.
I had big plans to blog about Diva's 5th birthday party, my brother or about my new "niece" Scarlett that was born last night. I'm sure I will get to those soon. But....
I'm tired. Maybe a little grumpy. And I received a letter in the mail today that has me festering. It's not an unusual letter. I get a few of them during the course of the year. Each and every time I get this letter it's like a punch in the gut. Old wounds are open. I think the intention of the letter is to be comforting. It never is. It takes me right back to June 2, 1990 each and every time.
I am part of an exclusive circle I never wanted to join. My letter is from the Victim's Services Office in Texas. My biological father, Kevin, was beat to death when I was 9. I get notified every time the man who committed the crime comes up for parole. I have to write a victim impact statement to the board and tell them my reasons for protesting Mr. Morales' parole. It's complicated now. Mr. Morales was released from the Texas Department of Corrections 2 years ago on a technicality. The way my Advocate explained it to me was that the Texas Parole Board is given 90 days to review parole applications. They did not make it to Mr. Morales' folder so he was released because they did not have time to review his file. Salt in the wound. Since then Mr. Morales has violated his probation. The letter I received today stated there was a warrant out for him. They will keep me updated.
I suppose I should preface the next part with this:
I was adopted by my paternal grandparents. I call them Mom & Dad. I have always called my biological parents Lisa and Kevin. That's just what I have always done. Life is complicated. 
What ifs have been a big part of my life~ even now. I always wonder "What if?" There are a thousand what ifs that I play through my mind regularly. What if things had turned out differently? What if I didn't have such a unique history? What if Kevin had lived? That last one always leads to the next inevitable questions...What would he be like? How would he be with my kids? How would life be different if I never had to write a Victim Impact Statement?
I can't say I'm angry with Mr. Morales. I gave up on that years ago. It did no good. Nothing changed. I still have very few memories of Kevin. I have very few pictures. I am just left with a lot of questions. What I feel when I don't feel numb is a lot of heartbreak. I'm heartbroken about everything that he missed out on. I'm heartbroken that I never got to know him. This just leads to more 'what ifs'. You can see how it's a vicious circle.
Sorry for being such a Debbie Downer tonight. I would like to say that I am unaffected by these letters~I can't. Tomorrow is a new day.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nana Karen's Red Sauce and Meatballs~ Oh My!

When I am in the mood for comfort food my mind immediately goes to Spaghetti and Meatballs. It has been my favorite for as long as I can remember. My version of the dish consists of jarred sauce and ground beef or frozen meatballs because I didn't know how to make meatballs. Enter Nana Karen. When I was pregnant with Shrek and Donkey there wasn't much I could do the further along I got. Nana Karen would come over about once a week and make dinner and help me with whatever. She was a God send. It was an enormous help. One of the things she would make was Spaghetti and Meatballs. Wow! She made homemade sauce and from scratch meatballs. Every time I eat this dish I am in heaven. Nana Karen is an old school cook. She doesn't measure anything and makes everything from memory. A few weeks ago she found a pasta maker that her and I have been playing with and making homemade pasta. If you have never had homemade pasta it is divine!  She came over today to make some pasta. While s

Potty Mouth

You would think I would be referring to myself or Mr. Mayer. But, no. I'm talking about the precocious little girl that lives in this house. "I cleaned my room damn good." Wait. What? That was the sentence Diva told me a few weeks ago when I asked her if she had cleaned her room. I was in shock. Mr. Mayer was stifling a laugh. Diva was dead serious. A few days after that she came downstairs and told me to "Tell those damn boys to leave my damn toys alone." Apparently her brother's were messing with her Barbies. We have also had the occasional "damn it" when she drops something or spills something. It was super embarrassing when we were at Target and she dropped a toy in the toy department and said "damn it." Thankfully there was no one around to hear her. Diva's um...creative (?) vocabulary started as soon as she started speaking. She has always used big words, whether she knew what they meant or not. Mr. Mayer and I are totally

So, Good News Is I Didn't Pee Myself...

Seriously, this is exciting news. I have had 3 kids. I have had 3 gigantic kids. Two of those giants were vaginal deliveries. #3 decided to be spontaneous and insist on a C-section. Yeah, that was fun. So, the exciting result of 3 kids that NO ONE EVER TALKS ABOUT?! You pee yourself. It's true. I leaked a little after I had Diva. After twins? I pee myself. What causes it? Laughing, coughing (bronchitis is a death sentence) , sneezing, jumping, running, hop scotch, jump rope and any other jarring activity. It's embarrassing. And, before anyone says "Oh, just do kegel's. It will stop that." I've been doing kegel's since 2007. It's not helping. I still pee.  So, what happened that I didn't pee myself? I would LOVE to tell you. I went to Body Pump before dawn this morning. Half way during class the instructor had us do a move that was terrifying and caused me to panic a little. Well, a lot. A whole lot. She expected the class to jump on and off of o