His body was willingly damaged more then once.
In his early days he crash his motorcycle at the flashing yellow light then hobbled home to get another 6 pack saying he was to scared to ride with out his beer.
He was a very dangerous man
Also the man I felt safest with.
There was the time he ran my brother over twice
backing back over the five year old body then driving forward over him again
And yet it was with him I felt safest.
When I was not with him it was my body that brother took out his pain on.

His last crash happened when I was nine.
He fell from the sky in a glider and crashed for the last time into the trees.
His business partner somberly arrived at our house to tell us of his hospitalization.
We drove weekly to see him in the hospital.
I was never allowed to go see him and sat alone out in the lobby
A woman approached me and said you must be Richards’s daughter.
She showed me photos of his plane crash
The wings knocked off and the fuselage smashed glass his head bleeding

Anger I had anger
what right did this woman have to share his accident with me?
yet my own family kept me from it.
Angry
I said why do I have to sit here alone and see pictures of what happened.
I want to see him too.

He was hospitalized for about eight months.

He returned home half a man
who could not say more than three words at a time that were usually not the words he wanted
So in true fashion of a dangerous man he chose the word FUCK. Fuck meant
everything he wanted or did not want. FUCK FUCK FUCK

I watched him heal FUCK
FUCK he FUCKING healed
He started walking with a full walker
He took off in his full walker and struggled to get up the curb
FUCK! helped his leg move up the curb

His fucking red headed whore fucking moved into his house to help him heal
and to empty his basement of our family history.
This fucking red headed whore finally got the boot when she swindled him out of all his savings while she fucking helped him heal

Then he was left alone in a big house with an old prestigious history
He fucking got up everyday had his pills and booze and fucking walked
He fucking walked and walked
until he was able to walk with out a fucking cane.

I was fucking impressed. Impressed fucking impressed. When he fell on the cement and blood came out of his knee or elbow I
Wanted to help him up but he said fuck NO!

After many years he was ready to romance another fucking woman.
He pulled the car over at the insane asylum fence telling me to fucking pick her some pretty fucking yellow flowers to leave on her doorstep.
He fucking never fucking gave up
He worked and he married the woman who fucking hated me.

She too had taken him from me. Taken his house what was left of my family history.
And in his last days she fucking took his ashes and put them where she believed they belonged.

The truth is his ashes belong high in the fucking sky on a breeze that only blows for dangerous men who never fucking give up.

Today I am a woman and a mother my spine bares the scar of my violent childhood.
After many years of not wanting to be that fucking parent
I found a man who did not have those fucking parents.
I trusted him to stop me if I thought it was a good idea to let the kids ride on the hood of the car and drive fast because it was fun.

I liked it.

In my pregnancy my body began to crumble.
After a difficult forcept birth, a fall down the stairs I was soon pregnant again.
I suffer in pain everyday FUCK I will get up and go and FUCK FUCK FUCK

I will not stop until the day my ashes are scattered high in the fucking sky on a breeze that only blows for dangerous women who never fucking give up. Thanks Fucker.

10/18/2010

Posted on 10/20/2010
Copyright © 2024 E. A. Pugh