My mother is a woman of mystery

I have not seen her since I was 2 1/2. The last thing I ever remember of her was the Volkswagon that she had. I do not remember anything else of her. I only have one picture of her to carry my memories by.

She and my father were wed in 1973. They lived in Houston,Tx. He was 18 and she was 14.They spent the first two years of their lives together partying and whatever the early years of the seventies brought on. Then on April 7th, 1975, I was born. This normally would be a good thing, but it spiraled the chaos into further turmoil. They were divorced some time in 1976, which left my mother in Houston, and my father to move back to his mother in Waldo,Ark. I lived with my grandma and step-grandfather while my dad was finishing up his tour in the Army.My mother had visitation every other weekend, in which she would pick me up and take me to Houston to spend time with me and let my "other" family see me.

After a year and a half of this, I guess with all the drugs, and whatever kind of fucked up thinking she had, she killed herself on Sep 8,1977.(my little girls birthday,2003 :( )(Arkansas cemetaries:Lafayette County:Lakeside Cemetary:Calhoun,Sara Jean Davis)

I have tried many times to discuss this with my father, but to no avail. I know that this hurts him, but how does he think this makes me feel? We have briefly discussed this, and he gets upset and does not want to talk about it. He says that he wants to protect me from anything that has happened or might what happen. That is also the reason he says I have never met my mothers side of the family. He says he married her to drag her away from all of them, but it didn't work, she still fell into that volcano.The last time we discussed this he told me not to bring it up again, as this was the last time. Don't I have a reason to know the past?

Well, I have grown a little older and a little wiser since that last confrontation. I finally decided to leave my old man alone and let him sit in his own misery. I guess that I just could not see how hard that affected him, and that it just drudged up old memories for him. Maybe he thinks that he drove her to the fact or in some way contributed to the factor of her doing it.

Now I am more complacent with the idea, and I have unlimited resources to try and find my hidden family.

Maybe this is the drive I have to try and be accpeted by everyone. Or maybe why I am so scatterbrained and sometime's can't finish a complete thought.

I guess there are many things that drive us to do the things we do. Maybe it is a loved one that we miss, or some other tramatic experience that has pushed us to the edge to be accepted, or be driven to work as much as we do.

All in all, even though my mother is gone, I want to thank her for everything that she has given me to make me unique.