Have you ever told yourself a lie…a lie so big?

But you were so good at compartmentalizing things and keeping secrets, that you didn’t even know it was a lie? The lie made you feel better about the people you loved so much in your life, so you just kept telling it to yourself.

A then, at 48 yrs old, you’re at an intersection, across from a familiar grocery store, and you’re looking at the beautiful blue sky with wispy clouds that look like “mare’s tails” that predict rain in 2 days- a sailor’s legend my father taught me.

And it hits you. I mean it hit me.  It was a lie. All of it. No one told me the lie- I told it to myself. Weddings, graduations, Thanksgivings- they were all attempts to show cause that I had reason to believe I had a family. But really, the undercurrents of discord and unhappiness were all there and no matter what I did, I could not be. They could not be. Together. Happy. For one minute. For me. For anyone.

The lie is over. I keep my sister. Time will tell about my mother. I will keep a couple friendships with aunts. That’s it.

My family ended in the second week of January 1985. When my father moved his things out, my mother said not to eat the groceries she bought, my sister -Miss Homecoming Princess- begged money off her friends so that she could buy us boxes of M&MS for breakfast, and after rehearsals until 6pm, I took a parttime job so that we could still go to prom. I saw Dad for the first time again my graduation day. Six months.

it was all a lie. thirty years.

there’s nothing left to say.

Except,

now that I see the truth,

My Life, begins here.

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