The only person he allowed to bring him out of his shell was his great grandmother whom he called Nana. And yet my life took a bad turn after my dad left us.Īfter his father left, Phil stepped into a state of depression spending most his time alone and in his room. Between her and her side of the family we were taken care of, loved, and given the nurturing we needed to hopefully become normal, productive adults. I idolized her, I respected her, and I hoped to one day marry someone just like her. Especially between the ages of eight and fifteen my mom was my voice of reason. In my eight-year-old eyes, she was a hero. Instead, she decided to learn a trade, get a job, and she tried to give the three of us a decent childhood. Mom could have just given up and slipped into a world of denial. He left us kids with a mother who had no skills and no money. He was also on his own journey of self-discovery it just took him longer than the average man to realize it. For reasons I did not know, my father deserted the family when I turned eight. We three kids were raised by a divorced mother and her side of the family. As you grew up you were exposed to an equal amount of boy things and girl things. In the 1960’s the typical family consisted of a stay-at-home mother, a working father, and some kids. Cheves, Author of Stir, Laugh, Repeat Think With Your Taste Buds A Book and A Dish Misguided Sensitivity – Review by Martha A.
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