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As I mentioned in my last post, my biological father walked out on my mother and I when I was about 8 months old. This left my mom “lost” and lonely. A fear and concern of how a woman with a high school education was going to support her infant son. Needless to say, this is a common fear that lies in an ever growing group of young women in the world today and I must say that I have a great respect for each and every one of them. But that did not put food on the table and clothes on our backs, so mom went out and worked two, three or four jobs in order to keep us alive and well.

With that said, you can imagine her intrigue when a young man from her past approached her and asked her out on a date. He may not have been the best looking fellow in town but his heart was in the right place and her need to feel loved was overwhelming. So, with one brave move Lee Wagner asked Sheila Brown out and was pleased to her response. For the next year or so they grew to love each other and enjoyed discovering the unknown. Needless to say, wedding bells rang and I was on my mother and I were on our way to a life of ease and comfort.

Over the years there have been many critics who accused my mother of marrying for money instead of love. And, to hear the stories told by her, that was partly the case early on. To my mother’s happiness, her love for my father grew substantially over the years and did not cease up until the day he passed. But, seeing as this post is not written by Sheila Wagner, it only seems right to stop rambling with the “history” and start in on my actual story.

Thinking back on my youth, I could remember my dad being a great father figure. He would laugh and carry on with my mom and I in restaurants, wrestle with me and watch over my studies to make sure I was using my full potential in school. I can remember how excited I was when he would return from deer hunting. I could see the headlights shine through the livingroom window as he pulled into the drive and I almost ran over my mother a couple of times trying to beat her to the back door. Dad would fling the door open, dressed head to toe in camo, and belt out a “I’m home!” in his nasally voice. I would rush towards him and in swift motion he would pick me up and sling me onto his shoulders (this, of course, was when I was around 4 or 5 and much lighter). Then it all changed…

As with any young man or woman I started to grow and change. I also noticed a change in my parents (that is for another post) and could tell he and I were growing apart. At the ripe old age of 14 I started working at my family’s auto dealership. For the first time I was around a group of guys that were much older than me and I looked up to each and every one of them… And for the first time I was able to do things without my parents knowing. Now, with this said, I wish I could go back in time and warn my younger self of the butterfly effect that will eventually come out of the summer of ’95. Unfortunately, my father was not highly respected with the majority of his employees because, well, dad wasn’t the best at social interactions. And me, being easily influenced by these cooler older guys, started to go along with their insults and eventually lost what would be the most important thing in my adult life… My father’s respect.

Once my father lost respect for me as a person our relationship went down the drain. As I grew older and my I was free to make my own decisions I started to take the wrong paths. A person may not realize how much someone in their lives means to them until it is too late. In 2007 dad, who was struggling with pain pill and alcohol addiction, finally took all of the pain and hurt that I caused him over the years out on me one night. When I did not jump to do what he asked of me right away he grew irritated. That, mixed with his concern and frustration of being down to his last two pills, resulted in a heated argument that went too far. It was early January and I finally got around to bringing him his pills. He proceeded to insult me and curse me out for not taking his “pain” into consideration. After about 15 minutes of arguing he pulled a gun on me and threatened my life. Once he was calmed down, I left and ended up filing a report on him in hopes that it would snatch him back into reality. He saw that as the final straw and “in a way” disowned me from that day forward. I tried for months and even years to correct the damage that had been done over the almost decade and a half but it was too late.

Christmas of 2011 rolled around and a nagging feeling (along with my wife) told me that I needed to try one more time to fix things. We went over for the holidays and exchanged gifts over an awkward hour or so during which I apologized again for disrespecting him over the years and I reaffirmed that I loved him very much. In his drunken state he brushed off my apology and proceeded to insult me a few more times. I finally felt like I had done all I could and a few minutes later my wife and I left. March 4, 2012 I received a phone call informing me that dad had passed away from heart failure. The one man who I loved and cared for had fallen asleep in his recliner and never woke up. Still to this day I regret my actions as a young man and wish I could change it all. But, like my wife tells me, if I fill my life with what if and constant regrets then I will never see the blessings that I have.

Thank you for your time in reading my post… I know it was a long one this time!

Till next time…

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“Mama’s Boy”… A statement that I am sure a lot of guys are familiar with these days. It seems, by listening to stories from my grandfather and father over the years, it is a statement that is a product of my generation more than earlier ones. So why did it become such a big “hit” with bullies and girlfriends/wives? That, my friends, I can not answer. But, I can answer all of those people’s question on why I am a mama’s boy.

I have been blessed to spend the majority of my life in a family that was successful business owners. I never needed for anything and rarely wanted for something. But, contrary to many people’s beliefs over the years, I was not born into that kind of life. My mom had me with a man by the name of Eric when she was about 23 years old and, unfortunately, he decided to go out for cigarettes when I was about 8 months old and I guess he got lost. Anyways, that shoved my mom into a life of long hours, multiple jobs and low pay. I do have to admit that I have always admired my mother for the sacrifices she made in order to keep me from suffering. I was told by family members over the years that she would go without eating sometimes just to make sure I had enough food to stay full.

After about two years of having to fend for herself she ended up marrying my father (I call him dad and will always call him dad seeing as he was more of a man and stepped up to fill in when my “donor” failed to do so) and that is when she stopped having to worry so much and start enjoying her family.

And for some reason, because I love and respect my mother like I did and do, kids and girlfriends from the past seemed like it was funny to call me a “mama’s boy”. It used to get to me for a while but I came to realize that maybe I am a “mama’s boy” and after knowing my mother and I’s past… maybe it’s not so bad to be one after all. Because one thing is for sure… I will always take care of my mother and family, and if I have to watch after her and keep her from wanting anything till the day she dies… Well, then maybe my debt to her will be settled… Maybe.

Thank you for your time in reading my post!

Till next time…

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