My Grand Illusions

Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,

The last week in particular has been stressful, scary, sad, depressing, infuriating and a tangled mess of emotions. Derick's not doing well and keeps making these choices that makes me fear for his future as a productive member of society. He can't see it even though it's right in front of his face. He can't see that he's making decisions that, day by day, are determining his fate as an adult. Isn't that the way? Kids can't see the future so they make choices that only impact that very minute or that very day. Next week? Next year? In ten years? Nope, there's a very large screen in place that keeps kids in the dark, at least some (many?) of them.

I was a kid like that. Making all these stupid, ridiculous choices that changed the course of my life forever. Oh man, you guys, I'm sorry I put you through all that. If you're even half as anxiety ridden as I am then holy god I feel terrible for being such a selfish kid with no regard that all you guys ever really wanted for me was to be happy and healthy and to succeed in life. It's such a simple thing and I couldn't grasp it. Derick can't seem to either.

When you're a teenager you really just can't see the ramifications of your actions and when you do catch a glimpse of them you push them aside because who really cares, it's YOUR life and YOUR problems, not your parents, right? WRONG. A thousand times wrong.

I'm sorry for calling you names and screaming things I wouldn't scream to my worst enemy. I'm sorry I ran away and scared you half to death. I'm sorry I did all those terrible, selfish things. Neither of you deserved it, not one single time and oh boy do I feel terrible about it all.

I bet you guys know this, because parents really are smarteven though I didn't think so then, but I felt so safe and secure that I had your unconditional love that it felt like no matter how awful I was to you both I ALWAYS knew you'd have my back and be there if I really needed you. And you were! ALWAYS! It's amazing that you didn't give up me. Actually, it's not amazing. It's exactly what I knew you'd always do. You aren't the kind of parents that gave up on us kids even when we surely didn't deserve an ounce of compassion.

I'm so fortunate that I had/have you as my parents, really I am. I know that I can make it through this really rough patch with Derick and I know that we'll be ok because I have such a great example to follow.

So, thank you and I'm sorry. I couldn't have asked for a better set of parents, not in my wildest dreams. Thank you for being there for me always and forever. If I had a medal or a zillion dollars or the greatest gift I could find I'd give it to you both.

You deserve it 1000%

Love,

Kristie (your favorite daughter, HAHA)

(Look at them all dolled up for a ballroom dancing competition!)

Nearly Vegan

I made the choice to go vegan nearly 2 1/2 years ago and it's been an interesting road. I gave up all forms of animal products including eggs, dairy, butter and the like. Honestly it wasn't that difficult because you can find a vegan replacement for almost anything these days. If I missed cream cheese I'd just pick up some vegan cream cheese which tastes almost exactly like regular cream cheese (it's really yummy, I swear). If I wanted buttered bread, no problem at all. There's nothing short of a thousand vegan varietes of margarine. Some days all I wanted was a juicy burger with a side of fries and we all know there are many veggie burgers on the market.

Over the last 2 1/2 years I've discovered so many new vegetables, fruits and grains and new ways to prepare the old stand-bys I had been eating all my life. I discovered my love for green smoothies, quinoa and Field Roast faux meat products. My pantry, fridge and freezer have a plethora of vegan food items that keep me satisfied and can feed my little family with no trouble at all.

The other thing I've learned over the last 2 1/2 years is that traveling as a vegan is a bit of a challenge. I've done a fair amount of traveling lately and I've resigned myself to the fact that when I travel or go out with friends/family I'm nearly vegan. (Thanks Mark Bittman for that term.) When I was in Wales in May I ate a few hard boiled eggs and I know that there was cheese on some of the foods I ate. When I go to a friend's house for dinner I don't obsess over the posibility that there might be dairy in the ravioli they're going to serve me. A friend recently got married and made me promise I would eat some of her wedding cake despite that fact that I'm sure it had eggs and milk in it. I did eat that cake and it was the best wedding cake I'd ever had. Would I serve a non-vegan cake at my own wedding? Probably not. But I didn't mind eating her cake at all.

Perhaps you're wondering why? Well the truth is, one reason I became a vegan was for the sake of compassion of all living creatures and it occurred to me that my friends, family and myself are living creatures, too. I wanted to be compassionate toward myself and others. I don't want to put myself in a situation where I refuse a dinner date with a wonderful friend because they might have cheese on a dish. The loss of that human connection isn't worth one meal that isn't entirely vegan. I don't want to impart my self-imposed restrictions on others and make them uncomfortable. I think that defeats the entire purpose of being a vegan.

Some strict vegans might blast me for me for not being the example all the time. They might chastise me for letting a hard boiled egg pass my lips now and again. They might cry "But you're defeating the purpose!", and I sort of agree. But my compromise is worth it, to me. I really try to not be the kind of vegan who spouts out statistics and facts and makes crude comments about the food that others eat (sometimes it happens, I won't lie), I want people to learn from example. I want people to know they can avoid animal products and also enjoy living life with their friends and families. I want people to be inspired by me, not dread my rules and restrictions. I want to lead by example...

So, here it is. I'm nearly vegan.

There, I said it, and I feel 100% OK with it.

Oh man! Mommy guilt!

The below post I actually wrote yesterday (Tuesday) but didn't finish it. I thought it would be interesting to see what I wrote while contemplating my delimna and how my thoughts have changed since I put into action my plan to solve this delimna:

So, Jackson started his new school last week and it's going well so far. I don't have much to report except that today is his second day and he didn't refuse to go, so that's a bonus and when I dropped him off this morning he waved at me and turned his back to me to play with the plastic dinosaurs he loves so much. This is a good sign and I should feel good that he seems to enjoy being there and let the mommy guilt go.

BUT I CAN'T.

You see, his old sitter was on the way to the gym so on the days I'd want to go the workout I'd pick him up and take him with me. Granted I'd drop him off at the gym daycare for an hour and go do my thing. But he was so close. Now? His new school is right by our house which means if I go get him and take him to the gym I'd be going backward which is a waste of time and money. Today I'm going to get off work, go the gym alone while he's at school and then go get him and I feel horribly guilty about this.

Someone slap me? Please?

It's not like I'm going to the local bar to do body shots with the regulars. I'm going to workout and take care of myself so I can be healthy and fit and happy. Why is there so much mommy guilt then?

So, that's the post I wrote before I headed out to the gym. As I was driving to my gym I felt awful for making my poor kid wait for me. While I selfishly plugged in my ear buds to my iPod and pushed the 'start' button the treadmill I imagined him waiting by the door with little tears in his eyes just counting the seconds until I walked in the door.

Normally I work out for an hour or a bit more but I allowed myself only 30 minutes because I figured with the rain and traffic that a 30 minute workout would get me sweating and feel like I've done something but I wouldn't be late to pick up Jackson before school closed.

Something interesting happened in those 30 minutes. I worked out harder than I normally do, so much so that I was a red-faced, sweaty mess when I arrived at Jackson's school. As I was running as fast as my legs would take me I kept an eye on the clock almost the entire time but I really took advantage of those precious 30 minutes I'd allotted myself. When my self-appointed time was up I high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could to get to Jackson's school.

I bet you can tell what happened when I got there. He was having a good time and hardly wanted to leave! He was just fine and could have cared less that I didn't get there immediately after work. My guilt was still hanging on, though, and I apologized to his teacher. She just laughed it off and said it was no big deal and that was that.

That was that. Huh. I had taken all that mental time feeling guilty and I had almost talked myself out of even going to the gym. I'm sure glad I didn't. Take THAT mommy guilt!

Forced

I've not been a very consistent blogger as of late, have I? When I open a fresh, new window to start writing about something, I've been feeling like whatever I write about will be forced. The few posts I've written lately were written with ease and little thought, which is the way I prefer to write a blog post. I don't like having to sit down, think of a topic, think some more, write a few words, mull it over, think some more, etc... I just like it to flow.

I went and saw Eat Pray Love this weekend and absolutely adored it. In my opinion it was leaps and bounds better than the book, which I never even finished because I couldn't stomach the words anymore. Perhaps it was because when I read it I was knee-deep in newborn baby spit-up trying to make a failing relationship work and I was in the wrong frame of mind. So, I'm watching this movie this weekend and I mentally wrote a blog post all about how I feel like the ideas in the movie relate to me and it just flowed.

Of course, when I sat down today to write all about it my mind sort of went blank. I know what I want to say but when it comes from my fingers it gets all jumbled up and the words just sort of plunk themselves in this little posting window and sound all wrong. Let's see if I can make this flow the right way.

Elizabeth, the main character, lost herself. Actually I think she never knew herself to begin with. Sure, she probably knew what her favorite color was and if she preferred a tropical vacation as opposed to one in the cold, bitter arctic. But she didn't know her real self. Her life revolved around others and not herself. Doesn't that seem to happen to women a lot? We define ourselves based on what our kid's or our spouses or our friends are and not who we are.

I identify with that. I went from being a teenager to being a mother in one fell swoop. I didn't have those years of finding out who I really was. These last few years I've been working through that mess of what I thought versus what I know. I thought I would never have the money to travel and see the world. Now I know that I just have to save the money and do it. I thought I wanted a big, fancy house with designer touches throughout. Now I know I'm happier when I have less stuff. I thought lots of things and I'm learning to know other things. I'm learning to know myself. And boy it's hard to get to know yourself, especially when you have children, a family, a job and other things moving in incessant circles around you.

Without leaving the country I'm doing the same things Elizabeth did. I'm wading through this life with no idea what I'm doing or how I'll get there but I'm trying to get there. I'm trying to find out who I really am. What makes me really happy. And what I want this life to be made of. Some days it's a boring existence, other days it's exhilarating. But one thing I know for sure is that I don't want it to be forced.

Did you see the movie? What did you think?

Turns out I need a lot of positive reinforcement.

One of the topics I don't talk about much on the great world-wide-web is my current relationship status. It's a little strange and complicated and, well, hard if I'm being completely honest. I would never intentionally choose to live hours, states or (in our case) continents away from the person I wanted to be with. It was an utter and total fluke that I certainly wasn't looking for (isn't that always the way it happens?) But here we are, over 4,000 miles away from each other and let me say this, it's hard work, this relationship business, especially from such a distance.

It's been almost 9 months since I laid eyes on this man who I thought was just ridiculous in the first few minutes of shaking his hand and introducing myself. He was fresh off an international flight and was plastered slightly buzzed from learning to play beer pong and let's just say that he called me a slightly vulgar name because my brother told him to and I was less than impressed. All the best relationships start out like that, right?

So I'd met this drunk, offensive man covered in tattoos, thought he was cute and that was the end for me, I'm out, I thought to myself. Well, lo and behold, he turned out to be a very nice person who treated my Grandma like no other man I'd ever dated in my life and my ears perked up just at the sight of seeing her hold on to his arm to steady herself while we all went for a walk around the neighborhood. If you can be kind to my Grandma and really mean it and engage in an intelligent conversation with her then you've got an all access pass to be in my life.

He was here in the U.S. for two weeks but I dismissed him almost entirely until the last 4 days of his trip. We were essentially inseparable for those last 4 days and I might have felt my heart break a little when he got in the car to go the airport. We made tentative plans for me to visit him in Wales and I was determined to make it happen. And happen it sure enough did. I spent three weeks and two days on the longest date of my life. We butted heads a few times and had communication fails a few times and discovered that we're both hard-headed and not willing to bend often. We also had laughs over the stupidest things, the kind that make you cry, crazy fun adventures and just a really nice time. I cried a puddle of tears the night before I had to leave, it was not a pretty sight.

We had plans to meet in NY last week and he was going to come here for a while but sometimes plans fall through and it thoroughly sucked and still does suck that he's not here at this moment. And here's where I tie it all in together. I've learned something about myself I hadn't really realized before. Relationships are fucking hard. (That's not what I learned, wait for it...) Long-distance relationships are even more fucking hard. (That's not it either...) In an effort to maintain a relationship where I feel secure and appreciated I learned that I just have to hear it once and a while.

So it might not be a newsflash to anyone else but it's a newsflash to me. Actions speak louder than words and all that jazz, but words are so nice to hear now and again. I crave that positive reinforcement and verbal conformation that I'm special enough or appreciated enough or just thought of enough. When I don't get those words I start to make up ridiculous stories in my head and, oh man, those stories are doozies that would make anyone's head spin. I may not be very a creative writer but I'm an awesome story-maker-upper in my own mind.

This all stems from a miscommunication we suffered just recently from and my story telling was firing up all sorts of random things and not one of them was positive. I'm really awful at telling people what I want or need in any sort of relationship (be it friend, family or otherwise) so it was interesting that I was able to finally articulate to someone exactly what I needed and why. It wasn't easy, I must have hemmed and hawed for 20 minutes, but maybe asking for what you need comes easier as time goes on?

I'm not entirely sure when I'll see my English beau again, although we've talked about it so there's something to look forward to. Perhaps being together in the flesh I'll need less verbal reinforcement? Or perhaps I'll learn that I'm just that kid of person who needs those words sometimes.

Despite it all, I miss him, his tattoos and his ridiculous ways.

Perceptions

I really have neglected this little 'ol blog I have going on here lately. Honestly, I have SO MANY, MANY things I want to talk about in great detail but when I sit down to write something it turns into a jumbled mess in my mind and I just can't put forth the effort to articulate all this stuff that's going on in my brain. Also, I've been really busy doing things since I've been back from vacation. New things! Things I never thought I'd do or participate in.

I can recall many moments in my life when I learned a new way to do something, or saw something from someone else's point of view or just learned something I hadn't known before and it changed my whole perception of my reality as I had always known it. I've been busy these last few weeks altering my reality based on new ways of doing things that I wasn't even aware existed. Let's review two of those things:

Bicycling and camping.

Bicycling and camping are not new ideas to me. I've done them both. I've always participated in doing both activities on some level but never with much vigor or excitement because it turns out I was doing one the wrong way and one I was doing the hard way.

I've been camping as an adult twice (before this trip) and it was fun. Not exciting or awesome!!!, just fun. I remember with both times that there was so much planning and preparation. I hadn't realized that it's possible to over-plan a camping trip to the point that I can see why some people would just pack a suitcase and hit up the local Holiday Inn for the night. The camping we did in Wales was the opposite of what I had done before. Sure, we had to plan and prepare but it was so different. We decided, last minute, to hike to the top of a mountain and camp overnight to watch the sun rise in the morning. There were no stops to get ice to fill coolers. We didn't worry about the fact that our breakfast the next morning was a simple one, that was sort of the point. We had a camp stove that was so easy to assemble, light and cook on so we didn't stress over bringing firewood or needing matches or fire-starter materials. We didn't bring pillows or random crap we really didn't need. We were both able to carry everything we needed in two backpacks. I couldn't even believe it! The last time I had camped our gear took up the entire trunk of an extended van. I had no idea that *I* could participate in an overnight camping adventure on top of a mountain that didn't involve loads of planning and equipment.

On a 3-day camping extravaganza I discovered what I could and couldn't live without. It was an eye opening experience. In the end I whittled my necessities down to chapstick and a cellphone (just in case, ya know!). I left behind all the makeup I normally wear, jewelry (except the rings I never take off), fancy hair products and all the other crap I use every single day. I left my vanity out in the Welsh countryside and it was the best choice I made. Now, don't get me wrong, I had a few moments where I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror and realized that my eyebrows were a tad unruly, my hair needed a good washing and a little concealer would do wonders to my complexion but the freedom of pitching a tent just a few yards from the ocean and falling asleep to the sound of the water just made my unruly eyebrows seem so unimportant.

The thing I was most surprised about camping had to do with food. I always thought the best camping was done with coolers full of ice, food and drinks. How wrong I was! We didn't have a cooler in sight or one single ice cube. With the little camp stove, water, some packaged noodles, rice and other various foods, we ate like kings. We did stop at a grocery store at one point to get a few things but even that was different. We didn't worry about the room it would take up in a cooler, we didn't have to worry about refilling melting ice, we just didn't worry, period. It was so freeing and refreshing. I had no idea that camping could be so carefree. But it makes sense that it is and it's so funny to me that I always though camping was this big production that required all this strenuous work and drudgery. I had no idea it could be so much fun and so easy at the same time. I'm stoked to take my boys out exploring.

(If it tells you how excited I am, I spent over an hour last night looking on the REI website at camping gear. *nerd alert*)

 

The other way we'll be exploring is on our bikes.

I've had a bike for most of my life, probably like most people. I remember learning to ride my bike even. I even bought one of those kid's seat things that attaches to the back of my bike so I could take Jackson for bike rides but I hardly ever took him. The reason I rarely took him is because of this one hill. It was the kryptonite to my Superman. Texas is supremely flat and yet this one fucking hill always kept me from taking Jackson bike riding. I'd get to the bottom of this hill and have to huff and puff my way up the tiny, nothing of a hill only to be exhausted once I got to the top. I always thought that my bike riding skills were total crap and I'd never be Lance Armstrong by any stretch of the imagination.

While in Wales we talked about going for a bike ride and I eventually put two and two together. Hills + my bike riding skills = sucktacular. I was a total trooper and went along with this bike riding trip but I made sure to let the Mr know that chances are I'd suck at going up the hills and I'd have to walk up them. He nodded his head and said OK, we'd just take it slow and see what happens. I was more nervous about riding the bikes than climbing mountains or hiking in the middle of the night because I knew I sucked at this bike riding business. I was so not looking forward to making a total ass of myself.

We started out on a path that was nothing like anything I'd ever been on. It was rocky and dirt-packed with the occasion tree root in the way. "Oh," I thought, "this is just great." My confidence level plummeted to an all time low when I saw hills ahead. I was on terrain I wasn't familiar with, on a bike I had just started using 2 minutes prior, about to approach a fucking hill and all of this was in front of this man I didn't want to make an ass of myself in front of. "Please earth, just swallow me up. Quickly."

Before we reached the hills I was given a down and dirty lesson on switching gears and when to do so. I barely remember the instructions that were given to me but I managed to pick up on the gist of it all fairly quickly. I found it wasn't too awful riding a bike on a surface that wasn't a smooth road. I figured out how to change the gears and when to do it for the most part and I got a little excited."Look at me", I thought, "I rode a bike on something other than a road". I felt OK about the whole thing and then we approached a dreaded hill.

The hill was ENORMOUS. I'm so not even kidding. It was rocky and steeper than anything I'd ever ridden my bike on and I was about to attempt to ride this bike up the ENORMOUS HILL OMG. I got another quick lesson in using my gears, how to pace myself and let the bike do the work and then we were off...

Y'all, I made it to the top of that hill without stopping once! I couldn't believe that my legs, the same ones that couldn't make up that tiny hill by house, took me up that ENORMOUS hill. It was a total rock star moment for me. I honestly thought I just sucked at riding a bike but it turns out I was doing it all wrong on a bike that's basically only good for scrap metal. It took me a while to get up the hill and I was a little tired at the end but I learned how to ride a bike the right way and MY LEGS TOOK ME TO THE TOP!

We rode our bikes a few more times after that first time and I was genuinely excited to get on and ride. We rode the bikes through a town we camped at, on the beach, in grass, through a forest, up and down hills and it was fucking awesome.

When I came back home I knew I was going to need a new bike. So I got one:

For my purposes it's a good little bike. It's meant for mountain biking, it's so pretty and I have mastered the gears really quickly. I've had it for two weeks now and I've ridden it about 6 times. I AM IN LOVE. The first time I rode it around my neighborhood I nervously decided to attempt riding up THE hill. The same hill that laughed at me every single time I tried to go up it. Physically I knew I would have no problems going up that hill but mentally I was on pins and needles. I kept thinking that maybe I just spent the money on a bike that would have me feeling defeated just like my old bike. I was afraid that stupid hill was going to make me its bitch, again. Turns out my physical self was right. I flew up that hill with no problems. I was all by myself at that moment but I wanted to find someone and share my joy with them. I know it sounds corny but I rode my bike up a hill and it didn't stop once. I own that hill, yo.

Since then I've taken Derick riding in the woods and I've gone with another friend to a trail specially designed for bikes and I knew exactly what to do and how to do it. I've also practiced jumping things like rocks and tree roots and curbs. I like to think that I'm making progress with jumping things and mastering the art of bike riding. I'm having a hell of a time learning and playing and just having a blast with this new way of doing an old thing I've always thought I knew how to do.

I was lamenting just the other day that I can't believe that two things as simple as camping and biking have been permanently changed for me in such a positive way. I really appreciate that someone else's knowledge has been passed on to me and I can pass it on to others, like my kids. I'm truly excited about where this new information takes me and how I can pass it along. Perhaps I can spark that kind of excitement in someone else?

In the meantime, I'll be making overnight camping trip plans or riding my bike all over the Metroplex with a big smile on my face with the feeling that I'm in on some big secret that I can't wait to share with others.

The things I won't compromise on

Remembering who you are as a singular being in a relationship is a challenge for a lot of people I think. It's hard to not throw yourself full-force into the likes and activities of the significant other in your life and remember to do the things that make you you. My relationship status is, well, complicated. I'm definitely not taken and I'm definitely not feeling single. But I am feeling that spark of something happening. It's all so very exciting and new a feeling I haven't felt in a long long long time, years really.

This is extremely preemptive but I wanted to make a list of the things I am not willing to compromise on. Things that, no matter what, I believe in and I never want to change, no matter if I end up with someone or alone for the rest of my life. I want to make sure I stay true to myself so I can be happy.

Family. I won't again be with someone who doesn't regard their family as one of the most important things in their life. It seems like such an easy, natural thing but I learned that some people just don't value their families like I think they should be valued. That's not to say that we all don't need a break from our families sometimes. But it should be a given that if you've got family close by that you make the attempt to spend time with them on occasion.

Travel. I don't need to travel to far away places for weeks and weeks but I do like to get away for a bit, to escape real life. I want to be able to do that without having to worry about having someone who doesn't want to ever leave the safety bubble they've created. No, I won't drag someone on a vacation again, I need a willing partner.

Laughter. After it's all said and done there's got to be laughter. Lots and lots of laughter. I won't settle for someone with no sense of humor.

My children. If you can't hang with my kids than basically we're done. That's that.

Honesty, integrity and dependability. That's a tall order, except it's really not. Everyone deserves to get the truth, to be able to depend on others and expect others to be true to themselves.

Personal space. I think everyone needs their little bit of personal space to do what makes them happy. I want to always be able to go read a book or have lunch with a girlfriend or even just take a nap. I want to do these things without feeling guilty. I also want to make sure that I can give that personal space without being clingy or needy.

Love. You'd think this would be the easy one. But not for me. Simply put, all I want is someone who loves me for me.

We'll see if anyone's up for such a demanding order...

That one time my Mom was right*

Teenagers are basically stupid. They do things that their adult selves absolutely cringe at doing. Recently I had been lamenting about my horrible taste in men and how the majority of them suck ass and I'm doomed to be single forever. It was then that I remembered, or rather was reminded, about the boy I met as a teenager who murdered someone and I kept on talking to him as if he was my one and only true love. See? Stupid.

My best friend and I used to be mall rats in every sense of the word. Her Mother worked a store in the mall so she'd bring us with her and we'd literally hang out, buying nothing, for hours upon hours. We met a slew of characters that I just really need to chronicle here for the sake of all Mother's who let their teenage daughters hang out in the mall. IT'S A DON'T, if you hadn't guessed where I was going.

I met a boy named Jeff one day at the mall. He was scruffy and the epitome of the "bad boy". I wasn't necessarily into boys like that but he paid attention to me and that was all it took. He was with his friends and they were obnoxious, annoying and had a car they could drive. I remember driving around the mall in the bed of a truck with Jeff. We never went anywhere but the thrill of being with a boy and leaving the mall and obviously disobeying our parents was so exciting. I never saw Jeff away from the mall that I recall. He was there all the time and so was I. It was our place.

I'd known him about a month I would guess and I'd seen him a handful of times and talked to him on the phone plenty. He was my mall boyfriend. All I did was talk about him and how cute he was. One evening I got my first ever collect call from the local jail and it was Jeff. Despite the collect call charges I was told I'd have to pay, I accepted the call. Jeff told me he was in trouble for stealing a motorcycle that he had actually paid for and it was just a big misunderstanding. Of course that's what happened and I felt just awful for him. What a tragic set of circumstances he was in.

We wrote back and forth for about a month and he called a few more times, collect of course. I had a friend drive me down to the jail at one point to collect his personal belongings. I got his wallet with his driver's license and, oddly enough, his birth certificate. I was Jeff's rock, the only person he could turn to in his time of need and OH MAN that was all I needed to hear.

After some time had passed and my Mom got a few phone bills with these collect charges she asked me what was going on so I told her and I expected her to be just like me, supportive and trusting. Turns out she was the total opposite and I was angry with her when she said I needed to stop talking to this boy. Whatever, I thought, she doesn't know what she's talking about. I made sure, from then on, to check the mail before she got home so I could hide my letters from him.

Well, my Mother's no dummy, even though I could have sworn she was at the time. She found out about the letters and hauled my ass down to the District Attorney's office to talk with the investigator on Jeff's case. I knew I'd be proving my Mother wrong and the DA would tell me Mother to calm down and get a grip. Turns out that I was the one who was about to be proven wrong.

Jeff was accused of murdering a young man who'd just gotten a motorcycle and then he and his friend stole the motorcycle. They hog-tied this young man and left him in the woods for some random lady riding her horse to find. I saw the pictures of this young man. I remember exactly what he was wearing. His hair was that orange-red color, he had pale skin and freckles. He wore the quintessential cowboy outfit of Wranglers jeans, brown worn-in cowboy boots and a plaid western-style shirt. Minus the being hog-tied and being dead part, he was someone I could picture seeing at a local downtown Fort Worth bar.

This was my first experience of seeing a dead body and it affected me like you can probably imagine. My little teenage bubble was shattered. The boy I thought was really into me, wasn't. The trust I extended to another human being was shattered. The realization that someone took another person's life for something as trivial as a motorcycle was just too much for me to understand, still is actually. The whole situation was just so surreal.

I never talked to Jeff again. He called a few times, collect of course, but I declined each call. He wrote a few times and then the letters stopped coming. I had to turn over the letters to the DA even though there was nothing in them that could be used. To this day I've still got his wallet with his license and birth certificate in a box somewhere on a high shelf. I still remember the photos of that man, they are in my brain forever. Those images, unfortunately, those I can't put those in a box on a high shelf. But I really wish I could.

:::::::::

*My Mom has been right about much more than this. Obviously. Mom's are right more often than not.