According to Wikipedia, Anubis is the Greek name for the Egyptian God of Funerals, death, the dead and the afterlife. It is usually depicted as a canine, or a man with a canine head.
March 6th, 1986
I was born on the 6th, my parents separated shortly after. My mother had gotten remarried March 25th 1988 - and I was often sent to my grandmothers at the request of my step-father who had grown to greatly dislike me.
August 6th, 1987
Donald was born on the 6th. His father was arrested off and on for breaking and entering and his idiot mother was being lazy ignoring my 3 cousins. My mother would leave me with them so often, I would call their father "daddy" when they would run up to him. Then, at age 2, Donald crawled across the road, and they were taken from their parents and went to live with our grandmother.
I called us the First Marriage Kids, as the other aunt also often send her 1st marriage child to the grandmothers. While the rest of the kids created in 2nd marriages stayed home. It was fine with us, as we were all mostly neglected and verbally abused by the new husbands.
October 8th, 2002
It had been a year since Steven had killed himself. He as a fellow trombone player at Auburndale High School. I was feeling awful, and I heard Donald open a new Dr Pepper, so I went to get the first sip. He said he wanted to go buy a straight jacket for Halloween. So we got in my car and went on a search for a mall. We didn't want to go to Lakeland and get lost as usual, so we tried to go to Orlando. We stopped at the first rest stop on I-4 and looked up a mall in the yellow pages. I tore out the page with the mall's address, and looked at my printed map to find the way.
We made it to the Florida Mall, Donald got his straight jacket from Spencers. I bought my first ever frappachino. I tried to drink it, but I didn't like it. I was so upset for wasting precious $5 on such an awful taste. We started heading home, and I got lost. I cut through a parking lot to try and turn around.
A cop started following us. He pulled us over, said it was illegal to cut thru a parking lot, and demanded we get out of the car. I had only had my license for a few months, and the car for 2 months. Apparently, my tag that I just had gotten expired September 30th when I thought it expired March 30th. I started crying, the cop asked in a stern mean way "Why are you crying if you have nothing to hide." He called a more sympathetic cop to search my car with a dog. I was so confused what was happening.
We were victims of racial profiling. The cop repeatedly accused me of being on drugs since I wrote on my arm, he refused to believe my cousin and I were even related, despite me having a baby photo of him in my wallet. The power at grandme's house had been shut off that day, so the phone was disconnected. When I gave the cop my grandmother's cell phone - since it was such a similar number he refused to call because he didn't believe it was a real number. I told him we were trying to find 17-92 to get back to Winter Haven, and he told me the road did not exist. I didn't know we were 500 ft away from 17-92.
After getting an expired tag ticket, and a horrifying first experience with a cop that I will never forgive policeman for, I eventually found the way home. I sat in my car wanting to cut my wrists, unsure if I should go to band camp that night. But I thought of my cousins, and went over to the football field for band practice where they had a moment of silence for Steven.
August 4th, 2010
I had just gotten home from work. I had not talked to Donald since he married the whorediot. I couldn't understand why he settled for such a crazy bitch. What I did not know, is the whorediot had recently moved in a new boyfriend to their 2 bedroom single wide trailer Donald her 3 kids lived in. (One was Donald Jr; She had a baby with each of her boyfriends over time, and refused to name the fathers).
I got the phone call as I stood in an empty room in my house that was going thru foreclosure. I rarely used the room, and would rent it out. That day, I was cleaning or something, but thankfully it gave me space to pace during the call.
"What's up mom"
"Donalds dead"
"What?"
"Donald committed suicide."
"Where's Grandme?"
I don't remember what was said after that. But in the subsequent days and weeks, it came out that the whorediot and new boyfriend had threatened Donald's life if he didn't move out. It was 2 days before his birthday, the allegedly fought that morning and left. 3 hours later, the landlord busted down the door with the police and found Donald hanging from a trailer bathroom door, which I do not believe could hold his weight without collapsing. There was blood in the entire bathroom, which indicates to me a struggle. The bitch's clothes were soaking in the tub.......
The cheating whore fled the state insisting her innocence, and the lovely Polk County Sheriff's department refused to investigate - because fact is - he as seen as Mexican, and she was White. No investigation required, open and shut case according to Grady's racist minions. No investigation into the death threats, they simply looked at his Facebook as saw he was depressed. The cunt went on to have a 4th and probably more kids, all with worsening fetal alcohol syndrome among other disabilities. The children were exposed to their mother having sex on numerous occasions, making it impossible to take them out in public without them being inappropriate without knowing it. The poor children and Donald are victims of this sick fuck of a woman.
It's hard to make peace with such a situation. To not feel incredibly guilty for cutting off communication, when I would have picked him and his kids up in 2 seconds flat. When I would have risked jail time beating the whore unconsciousness if I had been told what was happening.
You don't mess with my little brothers.....
August 5th, 2016
I had been in a bad mood all day at work. After everyone left shortly after 5pm, I stayed behind and continued to work until I feared I had stayed long enough to be responsible for setting the alarm, so I headed home. I was distracted the whole drive home. Thinking what would be different if Donald were still here. He could have been living with me, helping with the dogs, drinking Dr Pepper and making fun of British comedy and South Park. I started crying so much I wasn't sure if I was going to wreck my car. I didn't care. I took the curvy Lakeland roads above the speed limit without concern for my life.
Then a dog ran in front of my car. Despite barely paying attention to my drive home, I managed to see the little black figure dart out in front of me, only to quick do a 360 and run away from the road on the train tracks after I swerved a little. It looked like it may have been limping, I couldn't tell, so I pulled over. The car behind me had seen what happened, and stopped on the road to tell me "If I was not going to church right now I would help." I replied, "It's ok, I got it." He tried to say more about how he felt bad, but I was already walking away from the road, towards the dog, assessing the situation. As I would walk closer, she would run farther. So I dropped to my knees and began crawling. The dog would watch me inching closer, and she was eating something off the railroad tracks.
I tried to think if I had any food in the car to coax her towards me, but I remembered I had just cleaned my car the day before. I begged her to come to me "Come here sweet girl" in the friendliest voice I could muster after crying for so long. She inched forward. I laid my head down on the rocks, a few feet from the rail ties. She came closer. My hands were extended with my palms out, and once she got close enough, I grabbed her. Immediately puppy breath was infiltrating my nose as she licked my face. "Oh my god, your a puppy" I exclaimed after thinking she was just a short terrier type dog. I was worried about whatever she was eating on the tracks being on my face, but all I could do was to wipe the slobber off onto my shirt.
She had no collar, so I held her tight against my chest and walked slowly back to my car, hoping she didn't try to jump out of my grasp. She tensed up, fearful of what I was doing. I got back to the car and sat in the drivers seat with her on my lap. I closed the door, and let go of her, expecting her to run over to the passenger seat. But she didn't move. She appeared terrified and had as much of a death grip on my thighs as a puppy paw can. Luckily, I was less that 5 minutes from my home.
I named her Anubi. She came to me in between Donald's deathday and his birthday. She is all black, like the Egyptian Anubis was often depicted. Anubis often protected graves, I've been too emotional to ever visit Donalds... even though I live closer to it now. Anubis was often depicted as guiding individuals across the threshold from the wold of the living to the afterlife, while Anubi reminded me why I'm still in the world of the living.
It's the little things. Seeing her tail wag and she couldn't stop eating when I put her on my porch. The way she didn't want to get off my lap the first day. These little happiness' make up the reasons why we continue day to day, despite the heartache and pain and regret.
You never know when your guardian angel is going to throw a puppy in front of your car - so remember don't text and drive. :)
October 8th, 2002
It had been a year since Steven had killed himself. He as a fellow trombone player at Auburndale High School. I was feeling awful, and I heard Donald open a new Dr Pepper, so I went to get the first sip. He said he wanted to go buy a straight jacket for Halloween. So we got in my car and went on a search for a mall. We didn't want to go to Lakeland and get lost as usual, so we tried to go to Orlando. We stopped at the first rest stop on I-4 and looked up a mall in the yellow pages. I tore out the page with the mall's address, and looked at my printed map to find the way.
We made it to the Florida Mall, Donald got his straight jacket from Spencers. I bought my first ever frappachino. I tried to drink it, but I didn't like it. I was so upset for wasting precious $5 on such an awful taste. We started heading home, and I got lost. I cut through a parking lot to try and turn around.
A cop started following us. He pulled us over, said it was illegal to cut thru a parking lot, and demanded we get out of the car. I had only had my license for a few months, and the car for 2 months. Apparently, my tag that I just had gotten expired September 30th when I thought it expired March 30th. I started crying, the cop asked in a stern mean way "Why are you crying if you have nothing to hide." He called a more sympathetic cop to search my car with a dog. I was so confused what was happening.
We were victims of racial profiling. The cop repeatedly accused me of being on drugs since I wrote on my arm, he refused to believe my cousin and I were even related, despite me having a baby photo of him in my wallet. The power at grandme's house had been shut off that day, so the phone was disconnected. When I gave the cop my grandmother's cell phone - since it was such a similar number he refused to call because he didn't believe it was a real number. I told him we were trying to find 17-92 to get back to Winter Haven, and he told me the road did not exist. I didn't know we were 500 ft away from 17-92.
After getting an expired tag ticket, and a horrifying first experience with a cop that I will never forgive policeman for, I eventually found the way home. I sat in my car wanting to cut my wrists, unsure if I should go to band camp that night. But I thought of my cousins, and went over to the football field for band practice where they had a moment of silence for Steven.
August 4th, 2010
I had just gotten home from work. I had not talked to Donald since he married the whorediot. I couldn't understand why he settled for such a crazy bitch. What I did not know, is the whorediot had recently moved in a new boyfriend to their 2 bedroom single wide trailer Donald her 3 kids lived in. (One was Donald Jr; She had a baby with each of her boyfriends over time, and refused to name the fathers).
I got the phone call as I stood in an empty room in my house that was going thru foreclosure. I rarely used the room, and would rent it out. That day, I was cleaning or something, but thankfully it gave me space to pace during the call.
"What's up mom"
"Donalds dead"
"What?"
"Donald committed suicide."
"Where's Grandme?"
I don't remember what was said after that. But in the subsequent days and weeks, it came out that the whorediot and new boyfriend had threatened Donald's life if he didn't move out. It was 2 days before his birthday, the allegedly fought that morning and left. 3 hours later, the landlord busted down the door with the police and found Donald hanging from a trailer bathroom door, which I do not believe could hold his weight without collapsing. There was blood in the entire bathroom, which indicates to me a struggle. The bitch's clothes were soaking in the tub.......
The cheating whore fled the state insisting her innocence, and the lovely Polk County Sheriff's department refused to investigate - because fact is - he as seen as Mexican, and she was White. No investigation required, open and shut case according to Grady's racist minions. No investigation into the death threats, they simply looked at his Facebook as saw he was depressed. The cunt went on to have a 4th and probably more kids, all with worsening fetal alcohol syndrome among other disabilities. The children were exposed to their mother having sex on numerous occasions, making it impossible to take them out in public without them being inappropriate without knowing it. The poor children and Donald are victims of this sick fuck of a woman.
It's hard to make peace with such a situation. To not feel incredibly guilty for cutting off communication, when I would have picked him and his kids up in 2 seconds flat. When I would have risked jail time beating the whore unconsciousness if I had been told what was happening.
You don't mess with my little brothers.....
August 5th, 2016
I had been in a bad mood all day at work. After everyone left shortly after 5pm, I stayed behind and continued to work until I feared I had stayed long enough to be responsible for setting the alarm, so I headed home. I was distracted the whole drive home. Thinking what would be different if Donald were still here. He could have been living with me, helping with the dogs, drinking Dr Pepper and making fun of British comedy and South Park. I started crying so much I wasn't sure if I was going to wreck my car. I didn't care. I took the curvy Lakeland roads above the speed limit without concern for my life.
Then a dog ran in front of my car. Despite barely paying attention to my drive home, I managed to see the little black figure dart out in front of me, only to quick do a 360 and run away from the road on the train tracks after I swerved a little. It looked like it may have been limping, I couldn't tell, so I pulled over. The car behind me had seen what happened, and stopped on the road to tell me "If I was not going to church right now I would help." I replied, "It's ok, I got it." He tried to say more about how he felt bad, but I was already walking away from the road, towards the dog, assessing the situation. As I would walk closer, she would run farther. So I dropped to my knees and began crawling. The dog would watch me inching closer, and she was eating something off the railroad tracks.
I tried to think if I had any food in the car to coax her towards me, but I remembered I had just cleaned my car the day before. I begged her to come to me "Come here sweet girl" in the friendliest voice I could muster after crying for so long. She inched forward. I laid my head down on the rocks, a few feet from the rail ties. She came closer. My hands were extended with my palms out, and once she got close enough, I grabbed her. Immediately puppy breath was infiltrating my nose as she licked my face. "Oh my god, your a puppy" I exclaimed after thinking she was just a short terrier type dog. I was worried about whatever she was eating on the tracks being on my face, but all I could do was to wipe the slobber off onto my shirt.
She had no collar, so I held her tight against my chest and walked slowly back to my car, hoping she didn't try to jump out of my grasp. She tensed up, fearful of what I was doing. I got back to the car and sat in the drivers seat with her on my lap. I closed the door, and let go of her, expecting her to run over to the passenger seat. But she didn't move. She appeared terrified and had as much of a death grip on my thighs as a puppy paw can. Luckily, I was less that 5 minutes from my home.
I named her Anubi. She came to me in between Donald's deathday and his birthday. She is all black, like the Egyptian Anubis was often depicted. Anubis often protected graves, I've been too emotional to ever visit Donalds... even though I live closer to it now. Anubis was often depicted as guiding individuals across the threshold from the wold of the living to the afterlife, while Anubi reminded me why I'm still in the world of the living.
It's the little things. Seeing her tail wag and she couldn't stop eating when I put her on my porch. The way she didn't want to get off my lap the first day. These little happiness' make up the reasons why we continue day to day, despite the heartache and pain and regret.
You never know when your guardian angel is going to throw a puppy in front of your car - so remember don't text and drive. :)
