My earliest recollection with my Mom was around 1968. I was 4 and we lived in a small apartment in Dallas, for some reason. Not sure why we left Austin, but if later life proved anything, Mom was probably a groupie for some Dallas band.
We were at the kitchen table filling out paperwork to send in for A FREE Frito Bandito erasure… fast forward to what seems like 6 months, the erasure finally arrived and I probably lost it a day later. These times were my first in hearing how Santa could use his magic to unlock deadbolts and bring presents to kids who didn’t have fireplaces.
I never felt like I didn’t have a great Christmas, but looking back I don’t know how it happened, because my Dad was out of the picture by now (not by his choice) and my Mom never had a job that I could remember back then. Next thing I know, we are moving into a mansion in Hollywood… California! This house had an elevator, swimming pool, and at least 6 bedrooms. Again, at 5 years old, I thought everybody does this, right?
I went to first grade with Dino DeLaurentis’ kid…Probably the brother of Giada from Food Network for all I know. Turns out, we house-sat for a member of Steppenwolf for a couple of years. In that house, we experienced the ’71 earthquake, many, many parties, and a few naked people wandering around when I would get up for a glass of water.
I also was the only kid in my class who thought it was normal for people to have syringes in their bathroom. I mean, every parent gives themselves shots, right? Again, I never felt neglected, as whoever was around was like another parent, always looking out for me, taking me to parks, showing me how to roll joints, educating me on the fine play of Jeff Beck. Fun times at the beach, occasionally Disneyland, and toys galore is what I remember. Next thing I know, we are back in Austin for the 3rd grade.
That’s when I met my buddy, Scott Gebert. We played baseball all day long, literally lived the life of the movie Sandlot with a few oops mixed in when got caught throwing rocks at cars. I lived in a house about halfway between Scott and my grandparents on Manchaca Rd. My Mom worked for Willie Nelson (Yes, THAT one!) and helped on tour plans, photography, and apparently drug distribution.
I played Little League Baseball and Mom was at most games, but one afternoon, my Grandfather was there to take me to their place. “You are going to be staying with us for a while” he tells me. That lasted 2 years. I guess Mom had to do some time in the pokey and the Grandparents arranged temporary custody.
See in them days (Texas speak), that’s about what it took for anyone other than the Mom to get/keep custody. So after 3rd and 4th grade in Austin, Dad finally gets custody of me and flies me, with my twangy-ass drawl, to Oregon where I was a novelty to all these English Majors here. I was 10 and didn’t speak with my mom for 13 years.
For the first few years, she wrote, every month. I never wrote back. I was told by everyone how bad a person she was and to just “ignore her” She never missed a holiday or my birthday. I don’t even know hers. (who doesn’t know their Mom’s Birthday?) After a while, she stopped writing. (Can you blame?)
One day, out of the blue I decided I needed to call her. She cried for a long time and said how sorry she was, and how much regret she had. I told her that I had turned out fine. I had my issues, like everyone, but I’m okay. I told her to not live the rest of her life in regret, but to enjoy what’s next. That seemed to make sense.
We were never close, but I visited her once in Texas a few years after that phone call, and once again in 09. She lived for many years on a farm with her then husband and after he divorced her, she was pretty much left to live with relatives, and ultimately in a care home.
Mom’s life was definitely “front-loaded” She lived 70 years of life in her first 30. She paid the ultimate price for the drug use, finally losing the battle of Hepatitis C. I loved her as a small child. I never hated her, I just never really knew her. I know she loved the Cowboys and if alive, she’d watch the Horns tonight.
She was a “fuck’em if they cant take a joke” kind of person. She had many friends in the music industry and many visited her in Austin while she was in my great uncle’s house. Willie even brought her weed personally.
I share all this to open my soul to my friends. If you wonder how someone’s Mom can die and they confess that they weren’t close to them, well, this is it. I could have reached out more as a child, but no one wanted me to, and I guess it was easier not to. I forgave my Mom years ago for mistakes she made, but all the while, the family made sure got a proper upbringing.
If anyone is still reading this, I say thanks for listening. For those who have recently lost a close loved one… I feel for you! I just wish that I had been closer to my Mom and that I hurt more than I do now. I feel loss, but not like I should.
And… that’s about all I have to say ’bout that.
February 17, 2016 at 5:42 pm
Thank you
March 6, 2016 at 3:59 pm
Thank you for your comments
March 12, 2016 at 4:49 am
Trey, this blog is simply terrific. Glenn and I are on both sides of this — the stroke survivor and the caretaker who adores him. We are touched by your open heart and inspired by your optimistic strength. We especially LOVE your sense of humor in the face of all this absurd ironic thing we call LIFE. Keep writing!!! It helps you and it really really helps a lot of other people — plus you’re damn entertaining.
March 12, 2016 at 4:51 pm
So kind
March 17, 2016 at 8:23 pm
Great words Trey, you use them well and they mean a lot! I have my own issues going on right now but you make me feel like they are trivial and just how fortunate I am. I am glad you have your father for the support you need right now, I too have been very fortunate to have someone by my side to help me to the ER and to nurse me back to health, my loving wife Sandy, almost 20 years worth, she has to be getting tired of me by now! All my heart and love go out to you and I pray for a recovery that leaves you able to do all that you want to do! I’m glad you are here to work on those things…
March 18, 2016 at 1:43 am
Thank you kevin, i miss you
March 24, 2016 at 3:15 am
Love this! Your writing is very fluid and descriptive!! Proud of your coming back from such an ordeal and pursuing a passion you are clearly meant for!