I do not remember one single day that my mother was married to my stepfather.
My mother had been dating Joe for quite a while. He had two kids, a girl and a boy around the same age as my brother and I. We all played together well and enjoyed hanging out together. I was in second grade, I think. Maybe third. I can’t remember to be honest. And I guess that is the whole point of this.
I remember many days before they got married. I remember carving pumpkins at Halloween. I remember having dinners and going places together. I remember several activities that we did together – but this was all BEFORE Joe and my mom married.
I don’t remember the wedding, and I was even in it. I don’t remember him and his kids moving in. I don’t remember one single moment that they were in our house, or how long they were there.
I don’t remember my mother getting divorced. I don’t remember them moving out. I simply. Don’t. Remember. My mother told me that they had a very difficult, and short marriage. She said that Joe was an alcoholic and had quite a temper. I look at the old pictures now, and he looked like such a handsome, gentle, genuine man, and yet that is not the picture my mom painted of him. I wish I could remember something about that time of my life. But I cannot.