So I’m zooming down the highway this afternoon and I see a gentleman in my rear view mirror who reminds me of my mother’s ex husband. I can only assume he was traveling home from work. From what I could see, he was wearing a crisply pressed white button down shirt with cuff links and a dark colored tie. It was sorta surreal because the gentleman really favored tutu and my grandfather Red. As I was noticing his features
while trying not to run into the Tahoe in front of me, I got to thinking about the person who is half responsible for creating my brothers and me.
I wonder if he thinks about us. I wonder if he hadn’t become strung out on drugs if my brothers and I would have grown up together with the same mom. I won’t lie and say I’ve never imagined how different my life would be. Sometimes I think it would be great. Other times not so much. I mean would I have had the childhood I had if my mother’s ex husband would have been a real man and father instead of a drug addict. Would my brothers and I be close? Would we have more siblings?
Of course if any of that had been true, I’m pretty sure LOL my oldest brother and I would be the only kids. If we fight like we do as adults, I can only imagine how incredibly rotten we would have been as teenagers. Of course this is all speculation. I have no way of knowing what could or would have happened between Tutu and his ex wives.
I suppose the truth of the matter and the gist of this post is that I actually miss the old bastard. Even though I have nothing at all nice or mean spirited to say to him, I genuinely wish I could call him more than by his first name, Tutu, my mother’s ex husband or the sperm donor. I wish I could look past the abandonment, the usage and addiction to drugs and the total lack of respect for my brothers and me as the adults became despite not having him around.
Thanks for reading…
The Southern Yankee