I was about five years old when my parents split up. They had been arguing for a while now about…well lets just say that my mom was making some “bad choices”. Well my dad gave her two choices, she could move out and continue making those bad choices, or she could stop making those bad choices and stay with us…she chose to move out and to continue making those bad choices. So she ended up leaving that night, and she has not lived with us since.

We had not totally lost contact with her, my brother and I would half the time with each parent, one week we would be at our moms house and the other week we would be at our dads house this made bus routes a little complicated, because they never figured out our schedule.

It was a foggy January night my mother and dad had been fighting for about two hours back and forth.
My mother: “I KNOW!”
My dad: “I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU COULD DO THIS TO US, AND WHAT ABOUT THE KIDS!?

When my parents finally came out my mom was carrying a large garbage bag and her suit case both filled with her cloths, and her purse, she went out side started her car and she was gone just her dim head lights disappearing into the fog.

My dad told me that she would be back, and that she would just be gone for a few months so that she could get back on her feet.i don’t know, but I guess he was just trying to comfort me by saying that, but mabe that’s what they thought would happen, or maybe my dad thought that she would relize what she left behind, but maybe it was meant to be like that, but They just never got back together, they just continued on with their lives as two different people that were nothing but aquantances with the same children.

I was never really tramatized by this experiense, but she was never really a great mother to me any ways, so maybe that’s why. So today we (my brother and I) live with my dad and visit our mother on the weekends, my brother and I think that it’s a little annoying how we have to be there every weekend though, but like I said maybe it was meant tog be like that.