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So I am sitting here in Ottawa and reading the post on Lucy?s mother. I thought about my own life and feel like sharing and opening this thread up for people to share there story?s of death.
This will be very long, hello people it is me writing, so what else do you expect. But I have a couple story?s I wish to share. So here we go?
My Mother
My mother passed away when she was 38 years old. I was 17. I moved to Vancouver when I was 15 to get away and learn who & what I was. My mother and I had a very complicated relationship. It was almost love & hate on both sides.
My mother had me very young and my father was the love of her life. Although he was married at the time with a baby on the way (My sister who is one month older then me). My mother believed his lies and saw him as her way out of a life she hated. It also really pissed my grandparents off, so she hit two birds.
When my mother told my father that she was pregnant, she thought he would be happy and want to share a life with her. My father by this time already had 7 kids with 7 different woman. He was not the ?father? type. So he did what he always did and left her with a baby on the way.
My mother always held that against me, she blamed me for the state her life was in and her own bad choices. She wrote a book that I found when she died. It is something I wished now I never read, it was filled with hate and details about how she tried everything to abort me and kill herself. No 17 year old who just lost a parent should have to read that, but that was my mother, never thinking how her actions would affect me.
Her death changed my life forever. I felt alone, but with no father in the picture, I was truly now alone in this world. I was heart broken and really found myself making the same mistakes she made in her life, drugs, sex & picking the wrong men to try and build a life with. Unknowing to me at the time I was becoming who my mother was at my age. Maybe somewhere in me I felt close to her and thought for some reason she might come back to save me. I was really messed up at that time in my life, allot had happened before & after my mothers death that I am just not ready to talk about.
My mother was carefree and in love, she was wild & sexy. She had her whole life ahead of her and a man she thought was god. I think the good part of my mother died the day my father left and she never got it back. She was living her life day to day because she had to not because she wanted to. She tried many times to kill herself throughout my life. Although I did not know about that at the time, she filled me in on how much she hated me & life itself after she died with her writings.
But 2 months before she died we became as close as I think we ever were. She wrote me for the first time and she called me twice. Those conversations I will never forget and that letter I still hold in a safe place and read it from time to time. We started down a road that might have lead to a friendship, we would never be mother/daughter but maybe we could be friends.
I think my mother knew I was in trouble. I think she felt like if anytime she was going to act like a mother it had to be at that point in my life. I was with a man who was a very bad person and was doing things in his life and to me that would have cost me my life. I spoke to my mother before she wrote me the letter and I think she knew, she saw the signs from what my father had done to her. If it was not for my mother dying I would not be here right now to write this, this is not thought this is fact.
Before my mother died I think she was as close to happiness as she could get in her life. She had a new man in her life and in some ways found a reason to live her life and to live and not spend her days wanting to die. I was living on the other end of Canada and she seemed to have enjoyed the fact I was never coming home. Then on Oct 31/94 she died on the couch while eating toast. The say she never felt a thing which gives me comfort.
But I am hurt to this day of what could have been if she lived. Maybe in time I would be able to forget the past and all the lies my family told me. I would have never found those writings and I would have never known the truth. I would have been happy never knowing that side of my mother, it did answer my questions of why she treated me as she did. But everything in life happens for a reason, do not ask me what that is, but I know there is one.
On the other hand because of what I was living though, I would have been the one to die if she did not. It is hard for me to not think there is a higher power of some sorts when thinking back to that month, that year and really that day I found out she died. That call from my Aunt, if it had come an hour later this story might be alot different.
There is also guilt with knowing I am still here and others are gone. But again, I have that story written and has been for sometime. I just need to find the strength in me to be able to allow others to read it and deal with reliving it again when I read it before posting where ever I post it.
My Father
My father is the reason why there should be laws on people having children. My father in total has 29 kids that we know off. 27 boys and 2 girls. The term ?dead beat dad? has his picture next to it. I am everyday disgusted that I had that as a father, nothing nice I can say about the man and that is sad.
When he died in August 1997, I found myself at a park trying to force myself to cry, I felt like I had to cry, it was the right thing to do. But I just could not do it, I did not feel pain or remorse for the last time I saw him. I did not wish I could change how things went down. I was numb and really had no feelings on it at all, other then it was going to cost me $400 for the plane fare home.
After my mother died I reached out to the brothers & sister I did not know. I was not looking for my father, but I wanted my sister in my life. I felt the need to almost replace what I had just lost. I know you can not do that, but I was 17, alone and feeling a pain I did not know how to fix or deal with. I was doing drugs, getting drunk every night and having sex with anything that could walk, and even one that could not..lol. Even I knew in that state that this was not who I was and it was not how I wished to live my life.
My sister who is one month older then me was pregnant. I called the hospital everyday from November 26 to December 23 when her son was born. I did not get to speak to her till the 26th of December. I called in the middle of her labor and I said to the nurse who answered that I was her sister and she yelled back ?I do not have a fucking sister? her mom got on the phone and knew who I was and took my number.
That call was hard to explain myself and my situation. I felt the fear of rejection from someone I really wanted to love me. Rejection when you are a transsexual is something you have to live with everyday. But it was a light for me and I ran to it as fast as my drunk ass would get me to the airport and in her arms to try and have the family I really felt I needed to save me, I was dead wrong but again that's anther story.
To cut back to Daddy, after 2 years of being close with my sister/brothers he finally reached out to me. He told my sister to tell me to call him. Out of the blue, not what is her number like a father should have done, for me to call him. Whatever, I called and went to meet him at his place. The funny thing was, his apartment was 5 minutes from me and he told me he saw me all the time, but did not know if it was me or not?what a crap of stinky shit that was?
I remember how I felt as I took the cab to his place. I was so worried that he would reject me, I was worried that I would not be ?girlie? enough for him to understand. But after getting there all I wanted to do was run because it was clear this was not someone who you would want anyone to meet or even tell anyone this is my father. This was not someone I could get the love I wanted from, but he was my father and I felt I should give this a chance.
His first words to me were ?got any smokes? I have seen my father over the years when I worked the streets. He was a pimp/drug dealer, pretty big one to be honest. I was in a bad spot and he got me out of it. We went for a drive and all he said was ?well, what the hell you want from me? then added ?if you want to use my name on the streets so you can work without a pimp, I will only charge you 50%? Maybe that was his way of bounding with me, but it was not my idea of a father. After that conversation I left Halifax for good.
So, I thought with my mother dying he might have changed him and he might have thought about what his child was going though. I was young and stupid. He never changed and the only reason why he reached out to me was for money. He got himself in a hole and needed help, so like a fool I bailed him out and then the drama started.
3 weeks after meeting him again my father and I opened an escort business. He owned one in Halifax that I almost worked for till I found out who owned it. I had been working for years, so it seemed like a father daughter bonding tool..lol
It lasted 2 weeks. He stole money, ran up my phone bill and let my uncle the drug dealer move into my home to sell drugs for him. Of course I could not get him out for 6 weeks after that, so I lived though hell and the risk of some drug person breaking in or worse hurting me. I ended up having to move out of my own apartment for it to end.
But of course daddy was not letting his cash cow go so easy. He worked me like he did my mother, telling me what I wanted to hear. I was so desperate for that father figure in my life that I allowed him back in my life. I trusted what he said, like after all these years he would have a change of heart because his own child needed him. I was really so pathetic to allow myself to believe his lies and not see he was only worried about himself, to use his own child like he used his whores was just so low life, but that was who he was. Now I see it clear but then I was a child who saw her father.
2 weeks after this was the 2 year anniversary of my mothers death. My fathers girlfriend dumped him and kicked him out. He was worried about himself as always. I was crying and he had the nerve to look at me and say ?thank you, it is nice that you are worried about me, but we will be fine, your working and that will pay our bills and once I get over my pain we can reopen the escort business? I told him what day it was and he then looks at me and says ?why worry about that, she was a slut and you are probley not my kid anyways, look what I am going though right now how selfish can you be??
Something inside of me just snapped. It was like a smack down from god or some higher power. I saw him for who he was and what a piece of trash and user he was...he did not love me or care about me, he wanted my money. He used his own child as a whore to pay his debts. I just had enough of it and saw this had to end.
I got right in his face and told him what I really thought of him and said "get out of my house you good for nothing piece of used dirty piece of shit paper" I remember those words to this day and still giggle..lol. He stood up and slapped me and called me a fagot and whore just like my mother. I punched him right in the face and then chased him down the stairs with my frying pan. He fell and had a heart attack, I told him ?I hope you die and it hurts like hell and while your in hell think of what a waste of skin you are?
I never called 911 nor did I even look out the window. I packed his stuff up gave it to my brother and never spoke to him again. He had a massive heart attack that did major damage that lead to his death. He died from a heart attack 10 months later, but had 5 little ones throughout the year. But that one that day was the start of it all.
It was funny but the day he died he was telling his low life friends the story of what happened, and his "version" of it was, he put me in my place and walked out. My brother spoke up for once in his life and said ?no dad, she punched you and you ran like a bitch because she was going to kick your ass with her rusty pan..lol? God, for what it was worth it made me feel so good. There was no way that man was going to put his hands on me like he did with my mother and so many other woman in his life. The damage he caused in my life, that was my way of saying a big ?fuck you, you have not won? That was for not only me but for my mother as well.
It was a big step in my life and forced me to start taking control and not letting those type of people in my life and learning that just because they have my blood does not make them family. It is a sad truth in life that you can not pick your family and most times they are just not the type of people you would pick as friends.
So there you have it. I have more fun death story?s to tell, but this was hard enough to write about. I will feel better when I sit back and think that I expressed it and got it out of my mind. This is how you heal and move on in life.
So I am hoping others will share there story?s of death and I do hope this was not to much information or feel this is not the right format on a message board to share these type of story?s.
Thanks
Tasha
This will be very long, hello people it is me writing, so what else do you expect. But I have a couple story?s I wish to share. So here we go?
My Mother
My mother passed away when she was 38 years old. I was 17. I moved to Vancouver when I was 15 to get away and learn who & what I was. My mother and I had a very complicated relationship. It was almost love & hate on both sides.
My mother had me very young and my father was the love of her life. Although he was married at the time with a baby on the way (My sister who is one month older then me). My mother believed his lies and saw him as her way out of a life she hated. It also really pissed my grandparents off, so she hit two birds.
When my mother told my father that she was pregnant, she thought he would be happy and want to share a life with her. My father by this time already had 7 kids with 7 different woman. He was not the ?father? type. So he did what he always did and left her with a baby on the way.
My mother always held that against me, she blamed me for the state her life was in and her own bad choices. She wrote a book that I found when she died. It is something I wished now I never read, it was filled with hate and details about how she tried everything to abort me and kill herself. No 17 year old who just lost a parent should have to read that, but that was my mother, never thinking how her actions would affect me.
Her death changed my life forever. I felt alone, but with no father in the picture, I was truly now alone in this world. I was heart broken and really found myself making the same mistakes she made in her life, drugs, sex & picking the wrong men to try and build a life with. Unknowing to me at the time I was becoming who my mother was at my age. Maybe somewhere in me I felt close to her and thought for some reason she might come back to save me. I was really messed up at that time in my life, allot had happened before & after my mothers death that I am just not ready to talk about.
My mother was carefree and in love, she was wild & sexy. She had her whole life ahead of her and a man she thought was god. I think the good part of my mother died the day my father left and she never got it back. She was living her life day to day because she had to not because she wanted to. She tried many times to kill herself throughout my life. Although I did not know about that at the time, she filled me in on how much she hated me & life itself after she died with her writings.
But 2 months before she died we became as close as I think we ever were. She wrote me for the first time and she called me twice. Those conversations I will never forget and that letter I still hold in a safe place and read it from time to time. We started down a road that might have lead to a friendship, we would never be mother/daughter but maybe we could be friends.
I think my mother knew I was in trouble. I think she felt like if anytime she was going to act like a mother it had to be at that point in my life. I was with a man who was a very bad person and was doing things in his life and to me that would have cost me my life. I spoke to my mother before she wrote me the letter and I think she knew, she saw the signs from what my father had done to her. If it was not for my mother dying I would not be here right now to write this, this is not thought this is fact.
Before my mother died I think she was as close to happiness as she could get in her life. She had a new man in her life and in some ways found a reason to live her life and to live and not spend her days wanting to die. I was living on the other end of Canada and she seemed to have enjoyed the fact I was never coming home. Then on Oct 31/94 she died on the couch while eating toast. The say she never felt a thing which gives me comfort.
But I am hurt to this day of what could have been if she lived. Maybe in time I would be able to forget the past and all the lies my family told me. I would have never found those writings and I would have never known the truth. I would have been happy never knowing that side of my mother, it did answer my questions of why she treated me as she did. But everything in life happens for a reason, do not ask me what that is, but I know there is one.
On the other hand because of what I was living though, I would have been the one to die if she did not. It is hard for me to not think there is a higher power of some sorts when thinking back to that month, that year and really that day I found out she died. That call from my Aunt, if it had come an hour later this story might be alot different.
There is also guilt with knowing I am still here and others are gone. But again, I have that story written and has been for sometime. I just need to find the strength in me to be able to allow others to read it and deal with reliving it again when I read it before posting where ever I post it.
My Father
My father is the reason why there should be laws on people having children. My father in total has 29 kids that we know off. 27 boys and 2 girls. The term ?dead beat dad? has his picture next to it. I am everyday disgusted that I had that as a father, nothing nice I can say about the man and that is sad.
When he died in August 1997, I found myself at a park trying to force myself to cry, I felt like I had to cry, it was the right thing to do. But I just could not do it, I did not feel pain or remorse for the last time I saw him. I did not wish I could change how things went down. I was numb and really had no feelings on it at all, other then it was going to cost me $400 for the plane fare home.
After my mother died I reached out to the brothers & sister I did not know. I was not looking for my father, but I wanted my sister in my life. I felt the need to almost replace what I had just lost. I know you can not do that, but I was 17, alone and feeling a pain I did not know how to fix or deal with. I was doing drugs, getting drunk every night and having sex with anything that could walk, and even one that could not..lol. Even I knew in that state that this was not who I was and it was not how I wished to live my life.
My sister who is one month older then me was pregnant. I called the hospital everyday from November 26 to December 23 when her son was born. I did not get to speak to her till the 26th of December. I called in the middle of her labor and I said to the nurse who answered that I was her sister and she yelled back ?I do not have a fucking sister? her mom got on the phone and knew who I was and took my number.
That call was hard to explain myself and my situation. I felt the fear of rejection from someone I really wanted to love me. Rejection when you are a transsexual is something you have to live with everyday. But it was a light for me and I ran to it as fast as my drunk ass would get me to the airport and in her arms to try and have the family I really felt I needed to save me, I was dead wrong but again that's anther story.
To cut back to Daddy, after 2 years of being close with my sister/brothers he finally reached out to me. He told my sister to tell me to call him. Out of the blue, not what is her number like a father should have done, for me to call him. Whatever, I called and went to meet him at his place. The funny thing was, his apartment was 5 minutes from me and he told me he saw me all the time, but did not know if it was me or not?what a crap of stinky shit that was?
I remember how I felt as I took the cab to his place. I was so worried that he would reject me, I was worried that I would not be ?girlie? enough for him to understand. But after getting there all I wanted to do was run because it was clear this was not someone who you would want anyone to meet or even tell anyone this is my father. This was not someone I could get the love I wanted from, but he was my father and I felt I should give this a chance.
His first words to me were ?got any smokes? I have seen my father over the years when I worked the streets. He was a pimp/drug dealer, pretty big one to be honest. I was in a bad spot and he got me out of it. We went for a drive and all he said was ?well, what the hell you want from me? then added ?if you want to use my name on the streets so you can work without a pimp, I will only charge you 50%? Maybe that was his way of bounding with me, but it was not my idea of a father. After that conversation I left Halifax for good.
So, I thought with my mother dying he might have changed him and he might have thought about what his child was going though. I was young and stupid. He never changed and the only reason why he reached out to me was for money. He got himself in a hole and needed help, so like a fool I bailed him out and then the drama started.
3 weeks after meeting him again my father and I opened an escort business. He owned one in Halifax that I almost worked for till I found out who owned it. I had been working for years, so it seemed like a father daughter bonding tool..lol
It lasted 2 weeks. He stole money, ran up my phone bill and let my uncle the drug dealer move into my home to sell drugs for him. Of course I could not get him out for 6 weeks after that, so I lived though hell and the risk of some drug person breaking in or worse hurting me. I ended up having to move out of my own apartment for it to end.
But of course daddy was not letting his cash cow go so easy. He worked me like he did my mother, telling me what I wanted to hear. I was so desperate for that father figure in my life that I allowed him back in my life. I trusted what he said, like after all these years he would have a change of heart because his own child needed him. I was really so pathetic to allow myself to believe his lies and not see he was only worried about himself, to use his own child like he used his whores was just so low life, but that was who he was. Now I see it clear but then I was a child who saw her father.
2 weeks after this was the 2 year anniversary of my mothers death. My fathers girlfriend dumped him and kicked him out. He was worried about himself as always. I was crying and he had the nerve to look at me and say ?thank you, it is nice that you are worried about me, but we will be fine, your working and that will pay our bills and once I get over my pain we can reopen the escort business? I told him what day it was and he then looks at me and says ?why worry about that, she was a slut and you are probley not my kid anyways, look what I am going though right now how selfish can you be??
Something inside of me just snapped. It was like a smack down from god or some higher power. I saw him for who he was and what a piece of trash and user he was...he did not love me or care about me, he wanted my money. He used his own child as a whore to pay his debts. I just had enough of it and saw this had to end.
I got right in his face and told him what I really thought of him and said "get out of my house you good for nothing piece of used dirty piece of shit paper" I remember those words to this day and still giggle..lol. He stood up and slapped me and called me a fagot and whore just like my mother. I punched him right in the face and then chased him down the stairs with my frying pan. He fell and had a heart attack, I told him ?I hope you die and it hurts like hell and while your in hell think of what a waste of skin you are?
I never called 911 nor did I even look out the window. I packed his stuff up gave it to my brother and never spoke to him again. He had a massive heart attack that did major damage that lead to his death. He died from a heart attack 10 months later, but had 5 little ones throughout the year. But that one that day was the start of it all.
It was funny but the day he died he was telling his low life friends the story of what happened, and his "version" of it was, he put me in my place and walked out. My brother spoke up for once in his life and said ?no dad, she punched you and you ran like a bitch because she was going to kick your ass with her rusty pan..lol? God, for what it was worth it made me feel so good. There was no way that man was going to put his hands on me like he did with my mother and so many other woman in his life. The damage he caused in my life, that was my way of saying a big ?fuck you, you have not won? That was for not only me but for my mother as well.
It was a big step in my life and forced me to start taking control and not letting those type of people in my life and learning that just because they have my blood does not make them family. It is a sad truth in life that you can not pick your family and most times they are just not the type of people you would pick as friends.
So there you have it. I have more fun death story?s to tell, but this was hard enough to write about. I will feel better when I sit back and think that I expressed it and got it out of my mind. This is how you heal and move on in life.
So I am hoping others will share there story?s of death and I do hope this was not to much information or feel this is not the right format on a message board to share these type of story?s.
Thanks
Tasha
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