Part one of my journey home...

On Saturday, I called my Madre to tell her the good news of the comming of her favorite daughter. When she answered, I didn't anticipate that she would be drunk. YEY. Now I love my mother but I won't sugar coat shit cause that ain't me...My mom is an alcoholic. Of course, I should have known better to call her that day. I mean crappin aye...The Steelers marginally won their effin game only cause the other team choked on a horse cock. How the fuck you gonna miss 2 field goals, son? What the fuck was up with the waste of a time out when you could have waited 7 seconds? Bullshit.

Anyways, so my mother answers drunk...And she's like "Hi Jade"..."I'm so glad you called"...bleh bleh bleh...And I tell her the details of my arrival...to which I'm positive she won't remember half of but who cares. I try to make small talk which I know is me just asking for whatever stab in the heart she can give me at the time. Talking to my mom drunk never yields pleasant expiriences and me being the masochist that I am choose to continue regardless. At this particular time, she chose to bring up the one thing that she knows she can hurt me with...although at the time it wasn't her intention. The one thing that has been important to me from day one and I let myself let go of for a while...believing somehow it would work itself out, but no. On this occasion...like many other occasions...she brings up my youngest brother Sky.

Now my mother, despite the alcoholic that she is, was always a great mother to her daughters. She sacraficed for us, provided all she could for us and never gave us up without that famous Eagle (family name) irrationalness that we are known for. We never went without the essentials and she taught us how to love ourselves and be independant. My mother's love for her daughters could, would and should never be doubted. The key word here obviously being daughters. Her other 4 kids, unfortunately, happen to be another story.

To most families, four sons would be considered a gift and indeed they are blessing. To my mother, however, they were somewhat of a burden that was not really much her responsibility. Another factor contributing to the "favorites" scenario is that we all have different fathers, except me and my sister. My mom was never one to be accused of attracting great men. Although my father is a pretty damn awesome man, he just so happens to be gay as well. All this attributing to me barely knowing my older brothers. Although I know they love me, they are distant by their choice. We grew up together but not in the same household. My 2 older brothers, who are 5/3 years older than me respectively, grew up with my grandparents. They didn't life far from where we lived, but definately not with us.

My 2 younger brothers, both of whom I love dearly, weren't afforded the "luxuries" so freely given to their older sisters. Save my little brother Micheal, whom she does love, planned for and fought for but in the end gave way to the same scenario. Leaving the the baby of our little joyluck club...the center of my heart...my little brother Keanu BlueSky Kniffin.

(Cont.)