Didn't know you're wife passed. Bro. Sorry to hear about that
If you don't have a good relationship with your parents and they need help later in their lives will you step up?
- Thread starter godofwine
- Start date
Thank you. It's been 8 and 1/2 years and being with her for those last 6 months was probably more traumatic than the actual passing. It's a big reason why I've decided not to get married again.
That said though, I know that you have made reference to a bad childhood in the past, but God damn I had no idea it was that bad. When I went through has nothing on what you endured.
Pain ain't always comparable bruh. At least individual pain.
You could argue slavery was more destructive to Black people than the holocaust was to Jews largely because more black people are still suffering through the effects of slavery, post slavery, racism and oppression
For the Jews, Hitler's dead and the oppressors of Jews are minimal now.
But comparing a person who was tortured to a person who was raped, they are both supremely damaged who's to say who is more. For one their spirit may have been crushed, for the other they are good at hiding their pain/trauma buttons could argue it is equal
As far as my shit, that's the epidermis, bruh. Soooooo much deeper, too deep to get into all of it
As far as you not wanting to get married again, go check out Good Will Hunting again with Robin Williams about what Will said to Robin Williams about getting re-married
You got a good 30-50 years left. Go out there and find someone. Your wife would want that for you, trust me.
Check out this story I adapted from The Commodores Ron LaPread. He lost his wife at 23-24. As much as it hurts, you are feeling hurt that hasn't happened yet because you're scared
Get back on the horse. Bro. It's a lot harder out here now, but if you find that one trust me it'll be worth it
The Sad True Story Behind the Commodores Song 'Zoom' plus re-enacted short story by Godofwine
Before their first album dropped The Commodores' Ron LaPread lost his wife to stomach cancer at just 23. The link below is the story behind the song, what occurred, with some details. I took a few specific details and painted the entire picture, a short story on how it could have went down. It's...
www.bgol.us
if you and your parents got along all your lives and they
did right by you,
and you are healthy and ABLE, in their time of need...
and you dont come through..
You failed as their child!
did right by you,
and you are healthy and ABLE, in their time of need...
and you dont come through..
You failed as their child!
no doubt if someone really loved you, they would want you to move on, they know
they will live through your happiness and even sorrows but they will live as
long as you keep moving forward with your life.....
only an abusive person wouldnt want their loved one to be happy...
Your personal opinion bruh,
Someone earlier said their father made their blood pressure go up to damn near stroke levels and did the same thing to his sister
Some people are assholes. And to let an ass hole into your environment messing up your health simply because they're your parent?
Nah bruh
If you had decent parents or even parents that you can stand to be around for more than 20 minutes, good for you. Some of us were cursed with parents that irk us to our last nerve
And I can't go for that. No how. No can do
Beyond watching her die our marriage was an unhealthy mess that brought out the worst in both of us. To give you an example, in the four years we lived together both of us were arrested for domestic violence without either of us calling the cops. I went away once. She went away twice. I still have a scar on my eyebrow from when she hit me with a phone and a scar on my shoulder from when she stabbed me with a steak knife.
Trust, there is no way in hell she would want me to find someone else. If anything she's probably mad at me for not turning into a sad drunken mess. Would claim that it's proof I never loved her in the first place.
On top of that, I've been married twice. A third of my adult life in total. It's a lifestyle that just doesn't work for me. Having to explain everything you do and everywhere you go when you leave the house. Going into debt because your wife needed her hair done the day before rent was due. Being worried about the hell you'll pay because her friend smiled at you a little too much. Having to go into a whole song and dance explanation because you quit a minimum wage job that cut your hours. Or worse, having her suddenly say that she no longer wants to have sex with you which means you either stay celibate the rest of your life or lose half of everything you own and destroy the family.
I'm done with all of that. And watching someone you love die slowly just makes it that much worse.
Hey no doubt, I never said ALL parents were cool,
Hey, just because you came through someone,
dont mean their your parents..
one of the kidz in our crew was a mulatto
puerto rican who hated his parents...
and always said, he saw all our parents
as his parents, because he never had adults
showed him the love our parents showed him,
and all our parents did was just acknowledge him,
it wasnt like they ran up and gave him hugs everytime
they saw him... smiled greeted, his parents treated him,
like dirt, because he didnt have the features, his brothers
and sister have, who could pass for a cac if they stayed out the sun,
they would always tell him fucked up things, like..
I dont know where you got that big nose from, and your hair bad is
not good like your brothers and sisters...
he literally said he hated himself and only felt like he was alive when he hung
out with us moors aka so called "black" people who loved their darkness
and made no excuse for it...
I say all that to say, He used to say the same thing, as he got older, he literally would
get physically sick being around his parents....
He was the first of us to leave the house, got a job working in prisons and became a correction
officer at 21.
Married a beautiful dark skin sister, had two beautiful dark children, and he let his parents see them ONCE..
I thought that was cruel..
and thats when he told me, how his parents treated him over the years, and how they were racist...
then he said, as many times as I ate over your house..
you never ate over mine, then it hit me, like oh yea..
I just thought you guys didnt have enough food, he was like nope,
his parents only let certain spanish and cacs eat over...
He told his parents that he only came through them,
and he saw my and the homies parents more as his own...
bruh he wont trust his parents with his OWN grandchildren,
and they be begging to see them...
he said too much self hate among the darker people in his family
and that shit is gonna stop with him...
so I know first hand how many parents can be
brutal assholes..
as you mature you realize your parents werent as perfect as
you thought they were..
but you have to understand, most likely, its exactly how THEY
grew up...
the cycle is real!
but so are your emotions.. Hey you dont have to ever love
them or forget what they did..
but trust me, when you truly forgive people,
and let things go...
your whole universe become lighter and brighter...
Its the first step I took on my ascension journey,
and its the best way to kick start it..
just forgiving people, starting with yourself...
I aint say call muthafuckas and sing cumbaya
Im just saying when you truly learn to forgive people
with your heart..
YOUR WHOLE PARADIGM CHANGES FOR THE BEST..
its an awesome experience..!!
dont miss out on it!!
I can relate somewhat.
Hated both my mom and my dad at different points to my adult life. Eventually I had to ask myself whether holding on to this hatred was worth not having a parent. Decided that it wasn't so we made amends. It was two of the best decisions I ever made.
Doesn't mean that it's everyone's best decision though. Some parents are so toxic that reaching out might get your hand cut off.
Much like your mulatto friend, my family went from black to white within two generations. As you can imagine there was a lot of self-hatred and denial that went along with it. A lot of pressure to "act Canadian" (AKA act Caucasian) growing up. My dad can either look black or white depending on who he's around so best believe we stayed far away from Black folks.
I always resented them for it until one day he broke down and told me what life was like growing up. Still don't agree with this decision to go white, but I understand why he did it. I also have to acknowledge that my life wouldn't have been nearly as good growing up if he hadn't.
All I can say at the end of it is that the best and worst part of life is how complicated it is
Dang bruh,, Sorry to hear that!!
My dad and I had a shitty relationship from day 1.. In 2007 he had a massive stroke we believe from pain pills. Well me being the oldest, I had to go down south and do his paperwork.. Like I said, we didnt get along and I didnt feel bad about him.. However, when my uncle took me to the hospital he was in and I walked in there and saw him curled up on bed!! I just froze and as much as I didnt get along with him, I didnt want to see him go out like that!! Anyway, 7 months later he passed away and 5 months later my mom had a stroke too.. And to this day she's dealin with it!! Life is strange!!
My dad wasn't a monster, but he was hard to love, he's tried to mend things in his old age, but it's hard to forget ... and now that he's gotten pretty old the old him is starting to seep back out as he slowly loses his memory and ability to keep his emotions/inner thoughts in check. At least now I'm an adult and hopefully I raised my child better than he did me. My mom on the other hand is a pot of gold and I will miss her when her time comes to move onto the next stage of life.
Can't lie, I had an almost visceral reaction when reading about you's coming across your dad all curled up. Could imagine you and your uncle in the Wendy's drive-thru talking about the next broncos game like it was any other day, showing up at the hospital and seeing your jaw hit the floor. Having that chill just fill and seize up your body for a second or two.
Can't remember how many times my wife and I would get into the argument in the bedroom and I would walk out with a black eye. Seeing my kids reaction was heartbreaking. Can only imagine what would happen if they saw me have a stroke. It's also one of the main reasons they weren't allowed to come to California to see me anymore.
As children our father is the biggest most powerful man that we know. Seeing that pillar of strength reduced to a frail shell can fuck with our whole world view. Even when we're old enough to know better.
A couple years ago I flew up to Washington for few weeks to help my dad around the house after his prostate surgery. Seeing that dynamic change was an incredibly awkward experience for both of us. Can only imagine what it will be like when he takes his last breath.
The parents are doing way better than the offsprings.
Quote of the year bro. Quote of the year
No doubt,
I had no idea how many so called black people were passing, its a fuckin pandemic
within itself
but man when you master the art of forgiveness..
your life truly changes for the better...
its like you are freeing yourself from chains you never
knew were there...
I don't know if some of y'all didn't read it, but this is an example of what my father left me with, what I have to deal with for the rest of my life
So many kids who witness abuse know in their hearts that it's wrong but they end up being abusers or abused themselves. It's like it's ingrained in them
**
The story that he tells at 1:45 where an angel and a devil is sitting on your shoulder.
He said that it scared him so bad that he had that kind of evil in him that he ran out of the house it did say anything to anyone.
I had a similar moment.
My father was like Mister. M.I.S.T.E.R. Period, from the Color Purple. One of the reasons I can't watch that movie today.
I tell people my father was like a combination of Ike Turner and Hitler. Oppressing the mind and spirit. He beat my mother, he beat my brother and I. He used my sister as his personal snitch.
I once saw him throw my mother down the stairs, run behind her as she tumbled, and punch her in the mouth bottom of the stairs knocking out her front tooth
Seeing that a child has an effect on you. You know it's wrong, but unbeknownst to you a part of it becomes normal. Acceptable in a way.
It lies dormant in some, and is more visible in others.
Just at the high school in 1995 I was dating a girl named Ryan O'Bryant. She was light skin and gorgeous. Red bone.
Normally I am Team Dark Skin but with this girl she was just, wow.
We were standing on the second floor at the two family house Ryan thought that she could say something to me and she thought... well I don't know what the fuck she thought.
What I do know is she would never think that shit again.
There were about seven of us on that porch.
Ryan leaned against the railing and told me, "That's why I'm pregnant. AND IT AIN'T YOURS."
I don't know what damn fool thought goes into a woman's head to say something like that to a man. I don't know what she was thinking.
I don't know what I was thinking.
The next thing I know I am having an out-of-body moment where I am looking at myself from the outside.
Like a panther I crossed a 6-foot spans of ground in a flash that would make that big cat proud.
I grabbed Ryan by the neck and lifted her bodily in the air. Her feet dangled a good foot off the floor. Her feet kicked like joyous child as they enjoyed an ice cream.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" I heard myself growl.
Her arms flailed, and her hands feebly tried to grab me, but I was unaffected.
Her friends were frozen in place. I heard gasps behind me but I heard no words. The look of unadulterated Terror in her eyes was palpable.
I looked her in the eye...and threw her off the balcony
I heard the screams behind me. Someone said, "Oh my God," as Ryan fell in slow motion.
The way she fell it was like when the Ancient One pushed Bruce Banner from the body of the Hulk.
She fell backward into the day not knowing if there would be more days for her. Realizing far too late I wasn't the man to say such a thing to.
For minutes it seemed I watched her fall as a ln evil mask covered my face.
I heard the screams and I just stood there watching her fall into Oblivion.
Her calves hit the balcony sending them flying into the air and at the last possible moment I grabbed them.
I reached out and grabbed Ryan by her ankles with one arm.
I was 18 and nowhere near as strong as I am now. Where I summoned the strength to do this I have no idea.
I held Ryan by the ankles with one arm and pointed at her with the other. I screamed and barked at her and I couldn't tell you if you paid me $1000000 what I said to her.
She wore the same horrified look as Hans Gruber.
Like in the movie The Dark Knight, her friends yelled, "Let her go," the same way Batman did when The Joker held Rachel.
Poor choice of words, indeed.
I pointed at her with my left hand, pointed in their face and barked words I do not remember.
Her friends grabbed and clawed at the clothes on my back and my neck but I was completely unbothered by the movements of those sheep. I was a wolf and I had the Sheep I wanted in my grasp.
Then I came to my senses.
I pulled her up. I pulled her up and I ran from the house, down the stairs the same way Michael K. Williams said he did with his situation.
I ran down the street toward E. 116th street.
A #50 bus was coming going Southbound toward my home and I ran for it, chasing it down.
I paid my fare, went to the back of the bus and stood on the back stairs.
Most city buses have a mirror by The Back Stairs.
I told you before that I witnessed my father beat my mother on numerous occasions. When I was a child there is no greater horror then for me to be compared to my father in any way.
I hated that man.
I've looked into the mirror above the back stairs... and I saw my father's face instead of my own. I don't know how it was possible, what witchcraft, but I saw my father's face instead of my own standing there on the back of the bus.
All the air I thought I owned escaped my lungs and I collapsed on the floor of the RTA bus and I bawled in such a manner and fashion that one would assume someone died.
But someone did die.
I died.
I was replaced by one of the most vile human beings I'd ever met.
M.I.S.T.E.R period.
I wasn't sobbing, and I wasn't quiet. I cried so loudly as if I was being attacked, and I was. I was being attacked by the realization that I had become my father.
That I had become what I'd hated.
I felt crushed like an aluminum can being stepped on. I couldn't find my breath, and I cried reaching out for that breath. Every time I will get a hold of it it would leave me again, drained.
I reached out for that breath Again and again and again and again and again the entire 20-minute ride home and every time the breath of slipped from between my grass leaving me shriveled reaching for it again and again and again.
I didn't even realize the bus had reached it's Final Destination. The end of the line
I wailed hard for well over 20 minutes reminiscent of John Coffey in the Green Mile when he found those blonde headed girls.
I felt an arm up on my shoulder and felt someone sit next to me. They put their arm around me and gently squeezed and I fell into their shoulder, still crying.
Tears streamed down my face, they continued to fall, and they drenched the shoulder of this person. I didn't know who it was, I didn't care.
"I'm turning into my dad. I'm turning into my dad," I said.
She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me, cooing softly that it was going to be alright, but I wasn't hearing any of it and my wailing continued.
She clutched me tighter, as if I was hers rather some stranger on a city bus crying for reasons she didn't know.
I had never been held so tightly.
After minutes, it could have been 3, or 10. We sat there with our arms around each other until I began to feel comforted enough and I let go.
She used her hands and her sleeves to wipe away my tears as if I was her child.
We stood, she walked me to the front of the bus. She asked where I lived, I told her just around the corner and she offered to drive me.
We stopped at my house, the fifth house from the corner, and she parked the bus, stood and hugged me again. A good 30 second hug.
She told me everything would be alright and that I should pray on it.
I got off the bus , waved at her and headed inside.
I never saw that woman again. A part of me I wondered whether she was even real or a figment of my imagination. Whether she was an angel that God placed on this Earth to help me in my deepest moment of need.
I have never hit a woman sets. I've never raised my hand to a woman at all in any way since then.
I also refuse to date volatile women who are destructive, you know the type. Any woman with that nasty attitude that make you want to hit them to correct their shity attitude and actions.
Seeing my father's face in the mirror that day saved my life. I could have been like him, probably would have been like him had it not been for that one incident and that terrified me.
I understand exactly where Michael K. Williams was talking about with a situation.
May he rest in peace
So many kids who witness abuse know in their hearts that it's wrong but they end up being abusers or abused themselves. It's like it's ingrained in them
**
The story that he tells at 1:45 where an angel and a devil is sitting on your shoulder.
He said that it scared him so bad that he had that kind of evil in him that he ran out of the house it did say anything to anyone.
I had a similar moment.
My father was like Mister. M.I.S.T.E.R. Period, from the Color Purple. One of the reasons I can't watch that movie today.
I tell people my father was like a combination of Ike Turner and Hitler. Oppressing the mind and spirit. He beat my mother, he beat my brother and I. He used my sister as his personal snitch.
I once saw him throw my mother down the stairs, run behind her as she tumbled, and punch her in the mouth bottom of the stairs knocking out her front tooth
Seeing that a child has an effect on you. You know it's wrong, but unbeknownst to you a part of it becomes normal. Acceptable in a way.
It lies dormant in some, and is more visible in others.
Just at the high school in 1995 I was dating a girl named Ryan O'Bryant. She was light skin and gorgeous. Red bone.
Normally I am Team Dark Skin but with this girl she was just, wow.
We were standing on the second floor at the two family house Ryan thought that she could say something to me and she thought... well I don't know what the fuck she thought.
What I do know is she would never think that shit again.
There were about seven of us on that porch.
Ryan leaned against the railing and told me, "That's why I'm pregnant. AND IT AIN'T YOURS."
I don't know what damn fool thought goes into a woman's head to say something like that to a man. I don't know what she was thinking.
I don't know what I was thinking.
The next thing I know I am having an out-of-body moment where I am looking at myself from the outside.
Like a panther I crossed a 6-foot spans of ground in a flash that would make that big cat proud.
I grabbed Ryan by the neck and lifted her bodily in the air. Her feet dangled a good foot off the floor. Her feet kicked like joyous child as they enjoyed an ice cream.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" I heard myself growl.
Her arms flailed, and her hands feebly tried to grab me, but I was unaffected.
Her friends were frozen in place. I heard gasps behind me but I heard no words. The look of unadulterated Terror in her eyes was palpable.
I looked her in the eye...and threw her off the balcony
I heard the screams behind me. Someone said, "Oh my God," as Ryan fell in slow motion.
The way she fell it was like when the Ancient One pushed Bruce Banner from the body of the Hulk.
She fell backward into the day not knowing if there would be more days for her. Realizing far too late I wasn't the man to say such a thing to.
For minutes it seemed I watched her fall as a ln evil mask covered my face.
I heard the screams and I just stood there watching her fall into Oblivion.
Her calves hit the balcony sending them flying into the air and at the last possible moment I grabbed them.
I reached out and grabbed Ryan by her ankles with one arm.
I was 18 and nowhere near as strong as I am now. Where I summoned the strength to do this I have no idea.
I held Ryan by the ankles with one arm and pointed at her with the other. I screamed and barked at her and I couldn't tell you if you paid me $1000000 what I said to her.
She wore the same horrified look as Hans Gruber.
Like in the movie The Dark Knight, her friends yelled, "Let her go," the same way Batman did when The Joker held Rachel.
Poor choice of words, indeed.
I pointed at her with my left hand, pointed in their face and barked words I do not remember.
Her friends grabbed and clawed at the clothes on my back and my neck but I was completely unbothered by the movements of those sheep. I was a wolf and I had the Sheep I wanted in my grasp.
Then I came to my senses.
I pulled her up. I pulled her up and I ran from the house, down the stairs the same way Michael K. Williams said he did with his situation.
I ran down the street toward E. 116th street.
A #50 bus was coming going Southbound toward my home and I ran for it, chasing it down.
I paid my fare, went to the back of the bus and stood on the back stairs.
Most city buses have a mirror by The Back Stairs.
I told you before that I witnessed my father beat my mother on numerous occasions. When I was a child there is no greater horror then for me to be compared to my father in any way.
I hated that man.
I've looked into the mirror above the back stairs... and I saw my father's face instead of my own. I don't know how it was possible, what witchcraft, but I saw my father's face instead of my own standing there on the back of the bus.
All the air I thought I owned escaped my lungs and I collapsed on the floor of the RTA bus and I bawled in such a manner and fashion that one would assume someone died.
But someone did die.
I died.
I was replaced by one of the most vile human beings I'd ever met.
M.I.S.T.E.R period.
I wasn't sobbing, and I wasn't quiet. I cried so loudly as if I was being attacked, and I was. I was being attacked by the realization that I had become my father.
That I had become what I'd hated.
I felt crushed like an aluminum can being stepped on. I couldn't find my breath, and I cried reaching out for that breath. Every time I will get a hold of it it would leave me again, drained.
I reached out for that breath Again and again and again and again and again the entire 20-minute ride home and every time the breath of slipped from between my grass leaving me shriveled reaching for it again and again and again.
I didn't even realize the bus had reached it's Final Destination. The end of the line
I wailed hard for well over 20 minutes reminiscent of John Coffey in the Green Mile when he found those blonde headed girls.
I felt an arm up on my shoulder and felt someone sit next to me. They put their arm around me and gently squeezed and I fell into their shoulder, still crying.
Tears streamed down my face, they continued to fall, and they drenched the shoulder of this person. I didn't know who it was, I didn't care.
"I'm turning into my dad. I'm turning into my dad," I said.
She wrapped her arms around me and rocked me, cooing softly that it was going to be alright, but I wasn't hearing any of it and my wailing continued.
She clutched me tighter, as if I was hers rather some stranger on a city bus crying for reasons she didn't know.
I had never been held so tightly.
After minutes, it could have been 3, or 10. We sat there with our arms around each other until I began to feel comforted enough and I let go.
She used her hands and her sleeves to wipe away my tears as if I was her child.
We stood, she walked me to the front of the bus. She asked where I lived, I told her just around the corner and she offered to drive me.
We stopped at my house, the fifth house from the corner, and she parked the bus, stood and hugged me again. A good 30 second hug.
She told me everything would be alright and that I should pray on it.
I got off the bus , waved at her and headed inside.
I never saw that woman again. A part of me I wondered whether she was even real or a figment of my imagination. Whether she was an angel that God placed on this Earth to help me in my deepest moment of need.
I have never hit a woman sets. I've never raised my hand to a woman at all in any way since then.
I also refuse to date volatile women who are destructive, you know the type. Any woman with that nasty attitude that make you want to hit them to correct their shity attitude and actions.
Seeing my father's face in the mirror that day saved my life. I could have been like him, probably would have been like him had it not been for that one incident and that terrified me.
I understand exactly where Michael K. Williams was talking about with a situation.
May he rest in peace
Bullshit...Mean parents just don't start being mean all at once. You can only take so much until you have to wash your hands with them. If a man abandon his kid (me) in the hospital at birth and 48 years later wants help because he's in a bad place for poor choices, he's on his own bruh.
No bullshit, I never had a problem with my parents. Now its obvious that doesn't apply to you. Sucks to be you, I guess.
Man that shit caused so much angerFirm believer in forgiveness, especially for family...because, when it comes down to it..that's family and we're prolly not that perfect either.
then when you tell the truth, they lie
wtf man
Good point, bruh..
Nope...Sucks to be him...He's the one asking for help.No bullshit, I never had a problem with my parents. Now its obvious that doesn't apply to you. Sucks to be you, I guess.
Some people had it good or at least decent. Some had it bad and others had it very bad.
It's a choice of what each person feels like they want to deal with.
the same way I don't think one person should tell another they should have a baby they don't want to carry to term, no one should tell another they have for a person who wasn't nice to them or they don't feel as deserving of their time and or money
Some mothers treat their sons like shit because they look like their fathers. Some mothers put their daughters out on the street as soon as she turned 18. Some fathers abandon their post as fathers for the flimsiest of reasons
- I wasn't ready to be a father
- My baby mama's a bitch
- The kid is better off without me
Ain't no more to it
whew, let's just say i am glad i have a good relationship with my parents. my dad is just like most dads, tried to guide me, but didn't go out of his way too much to make me comfortable, but then i guess, that's just how dads are. my mom on the other hand, did so much for my brother and i. so now, they're both in their 70s, we are always at their beck and call, so much so, i bought a house right next to my parents. yep, so the grandkids could be next to them. ironically, since we moved beside them two years ago, now they decide it's time to move back to Africa permanently next year. bummer. but anyways, i don't know how it would have shaped out if i didn't have a good relationship with them. maybe it would depend on how bad they treated me. i mean if they treated me like shit, then i probably would turn my back on them but if it was just on some minor shit, then maybe i would help them out every so often but not at my inconvenience. it would be more like, "i said i will get there when i get there" type shit
I was the reason they not together...let all my nigs run a train on the bitch...and your knock kneed ass pops.. walked in... so now you have your closure...you sorry son of a bitch
Yea. Even though my dad was a real bastard. Just me though
Yeah man. Set them up in a nursing home.
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