How Much Are You Willing To Pay?

I’ll be the first to admit that I love quiet. Not silence, not being ignored, but quietness.

What I have today is total silence. Silence from my children. I can’t handle it. I can’t.

This, this is honestly one price I didn't know I would have to pay for my happiness. Freedom from a town that chokes me to death, literally. An area full of memories that I would rather forget but kept coming 'home' to again and again. A place, that even as a child, couldn’t wait to get away from – far far away.

I have finally done it. Gotten so far away from that place that I can’t imagine how I’d ever get back here. I can’t even begin to make it happen because I don’t want to be there. I honestly, truly, sincerely hate the Mid-South. No offense to anyone there, it just isn’t home to me. It hasn’t been, in like forever.

My memories of Memphis start when I was 4 years old. That is when we moved there from Houston, TX. My very first memory, I mean the very first one wasn’t a good one. We arrived before my father, who stayed behind to help with the movers. It was a nightmare that I will never forget. It was raining, there were problems and my father – he didn’t arrive when he was suppose to arrive. I can still feel what I felt then – scared out of my wits. In a new place, a new town, it was storming and I wanted my father. He did make it safely the next day, but that trauma, yes trauma, seems to set the stage for the rest of my life in that area. I say that area because I’m no longer there.

I do love it here. I am happy here. I can breathe, I smile often, I am living with a wonderful person and have so many opportunities without pressure here. The one thing I don’t have is my children. What has changed? What happened? What the hell did I do?

I don’t even know where my children are living. Two of them were in my apartment when I left. Three if you count my ‘non’ child Austin. I believe he is in Cordova now? WTF? I am hoping that they are living with their sister in Southaven, but I haven’t a clue. I get in my truck, drive to New Hampshire and my family just disappears. Again, WTF?

I hope my fears aren’t real. That they are just False Expectations Appearing Real. That they didn’t choose my last husband for me because I was such a sucky parent that they needed someone in their lives to lead, guide, direct and love them properly. To really take care of them the way that they needed to be taken of in the correct way.

I was such a liberal parent (shit, I don’t even really know what that word means – liberal, guess I need to look it up, huh). I allowed them to explore themselves and the world around them. Encouraging them whatever path they chose in life – at the moment or forever. I just wanted them to make their own choices. Be their own persons. I even dared to hope that my off the way, so not-like-Kay move to New Hampshire would inspire them to reach out for their dreams. For once in my life I was trying to practice what I preached. To actually show them by walking the walk instead of just – well fucking just talking shit.

Today I am living my dream. A dream that I’ve had for a long time. Living on the Northeastern Coast, writing. What I didn’t dream of is not having my children in my life. My grandchild in my life. It’s a price I didn’t know I would have to pay.

If I had known this was the ultimate price, I would still be living in Horn Lake MS.