The Other Woman(s) 2390 East Huntsville Road, I was 5 years old and it was normal for my dad to never be around, because he was always working until 3 am. I don 't remember waking up with my dad in the mornings while I was younger. I never thought of it as strange because that had been life since I can remember. What I do remember is what I consider to be the worst day of my life. I was 6 years old at the time, I got picked up from school by my mother who had a very cold look on her face the car ride home, but I didn’t think much of it. All I thought was that she was an adult and adults got upset easily. When we pulled into the drive I got out and I was excited to share my day with her, today for me was like every other day. But something
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I was 7 the first time I was able to go stay the night. They had lived there for a couple months before they thought it would be appropriate for me to come stay the night. Once I arrived I was in heaven. I had my own bed in my own room which had windows on the main wall looking out into the sunset. The house also had a hot tub with a slide leading down to the pool. My dad had definitely distracted me from the ideas that were still running through my head. I was finally proud of my father. His house was the place I wanted to be. I would invite friends over to stay the night, and I finally got out of the hole that I was placed into.Things were great until I was 10 and the questions started to eat away at me again. I decided that I was going to ask my mom questions like, “How did dad meet jane?”, “Do you think there was other things going on before the divorce with Jane?”, “Did dad cheat on you?”, and that last question was the one that answered everything. We sat down on my moms bed, I knew this was going to be bad. I was always given bad news when my parents asked me to sit. She started to explain in a shakey voice about how my dad had left a note for her in the bathroom a couple weeks before I found out about the divorce. The note said that he had left with Jane to go to Mardi Gras and that he was going to file for divorce papers. That new fact about what really happened ruined me. I remember my father bringing me tons of necklaces from Mardi Gras. I could no longer look at those necklaces with pleasure, now only with disgust and hatred of what they symbolized. That was the end of my questions, from then on I stopped questioning things because I didn 't want to know anymore. I had already developed what kind of man I saw my father as. I never got over the fact that my dad had cheated on my mom but I forgave him the best I could. Everything was fantastic good with my father until I was 14 years old. I
I was 7 the first time I was able to go stay the night. They had lived there for a couple months before they thought it would be appropriate for me to come stay the night. Once I arrived I was in heaven. I had my own bed in my own room which had windows on the main wall looking out into the sunset. The house also had a hot tub with a slide leading down to the pool. My dad had definitely distracted me from the ideas that were still running through my head. I was finally proud of my father. His house was the place I wanted to be. I would invite friends over to stay the night, and I finally got out of the hole that I was placed into.Things were great until I was 10 and the questions started to eat away at me again. I decided that I was going to ask my mom questions like, “How did dad meet jane?”, “Do you think there was other things going on before the divorce with Jane?”, “Did dad cheat on you?”, and that last question was the one that answered everything. We sat down on my moms bed, I knew this was going to be bad. I was always given bad news when my parents asked me to sit. She started to explain in a shakey voice about how my dad had left a note for her in the bathroom a couple weeks before I found out about the divorce. The note said that he had left with Jane to go to Mardi Gras and that he was going to file for divorce papers. That new fact about what really happened ruined me. I remember my father bringing me tons of necklaces from Mardi Gras. I could no longer look at those necklaces with pleasure, now only with disgust and hatred of what they symbolized. That was the end of my questions, from then on I stopped questioning things because I didn 't want to know anymore. I had already developed what kind of man I saw my father as. I never got over the fact that my dad had cheated on my mom but I forgave him the best I could. Everything was fantastic good with my father until I was 14 years old. I