6 x 365

September 1998

I met a man named Bruce - he helped me discover that I was a mother.

You could say that my brothers got into a lot of trouble when they were young... and you'd be right. All 4 of them had their share of issues and knowing their past, I can hardly blame them.

When the youngest 3 broke into my house with some of their friends and burglarized it I was angry, but I couldn't watch them go to the juvenile facility again. That place didn't help them. They didn't have a problem with authority, they had a problem with shitty parents. I convinced my husband to go a different route. Since we were re-landscaping our backyard, we gave the 3 boys (2 of them age 12 and the other age 10) the option of working off the punishment by leveling dirt for 2 weekends. They, and my father, all agreed that it was fair.... enough.

The house that my husband and I lived in belonged to my parents-in-law and we were purchasing them, as did the house next door that we rented out to my father. My brothers all lived with him.

The second day of their punishment, I was home by myself when my brother Daniel came running into my house dirty from working and crying. He was so upset that he could barely talk and he refused to look at me. So I went out to the backyard to ask his brothers what had happened.

When I stepped out my back door I saw a man in my backyard standing over my other brother David, yelling at him to work faster! Then I saw him hit and shove him.

I had no idea who this man was, but I am not a small woman. Without thinking I grabbed a shovel and ran toward him screaming for him to get the hell away.

Apparently I was intimidating enough because he listened.

"Who the hell are YOU?" he asked.

I was enraged. "ME!? I'm the person who owns this house, and the one who is going to pound your fucking head in with a shovel if you touch my brothers again! Now get off my property!"

I could tell he had been drinking as he stumbled through the yard to my fathers front door.

I asked my brother if he was ok, and he began to cry as well telling me that he was a friend of my fathers.

I followed him. "Oh HELL no! I own that house too. Get out of here. NOW!"

My father heard me screaming and stepped outside to see me holding a shovel over his friends head.

In my mind I was weighing consequences of what would happen were I to use it. He was on my property and he did pose a threat.

My father told me to calm down - he had been drinking as well. I told him what had just occurred. He didn't even ask if Daniel and David were alright. He tried to convince me that Bruce would just come in and he'd keep him away from the boys.

I knew my father better than that. He was angry that his friend had to go home and couldn't play anymore. He blamed my brothers for it and they would suffer for it later. These reasons are why my brothers didn't run to me when the abuse began with Bruce. They would be punished for it.

"This is over." I said. "The boys will be staying with me for a while. I am going to go make sure that they are ok. I'll be back in 5 minutes to get some of their clothes and if HE'S not gone" pointing to Bruce "YOU will be homeless in 30 days."

*****

My father did listen, as he knew I was serious, but the boys never went back to his house. I decided their punishment was over - in more ways than one.

My youngest brother and one of the twins lived with me for years after that day. The second twin did not like my husband, and he left my home shortly after. He got into some serious trouble and was sent to a boys camp far away from home for over 2 years.

I love my brothers as if they are my own children, and I raised them that way. While they were with me, they did well. They stayed out of trouble - mostly.. they are boys after all.

Now, they are men. Happily I can say they are GOOD men with strong morals and loving hearts.

This memory though - this is kind of my landmark. I will always remember it as the day that I first felt what it was to be a mother.