BOBBY is born. April 18th, 1979. Daddy hurt me.

Why couldn’t you settled for butterfly kisses, Daddy?….  

                                                     Why did my dreams turn into a nightmare?….  Why, Daddy????

You were my hero, Daddy…..  NOW I AM REPULSED BY YOU!!!!

They asked me why I never told….  my daddy stole my voice, that’s why.



What is wrong with me? 

What did I do to deserve this, Daddy????


Click here to find out why my name is TEAR DROPS, PLEASE!

Do you care enough to listen to me???


TEAR DROPS can’t stay away during this story I am going to share with you…

I was Daddy’s girl!  My daddy was my hero, like most little girl’s think of their daddy.  When my mommy found out she was pregnant, I remember them asking me if I wanted a baby brother or a baby sister.  I know dang good and well my answer was sister!  I remember them convincing me I really wanted the baby to be a boy.  In 1979 there weren’t ultrasounds to my knowledge, so to this day I still wonder how they KNEW it would be a boy….

When I think of the day Bobby was born, it plays in my head like a movie.  It was April 18th, 1979 and I was almost exactly two months short of my 3rd birthday.  How do I remember?  Doubters are saying, “There is NO way she could remember at a toddler’s age!”.  Trauma does that, my friends.  Therapists, Psychologists, Psychiatrist, Psycho Analysts; I’ve seen them all over the years and they ALL say the same thing.  Don’t doubt me, please.

My daddy grew different varieties of roses all along the front of our single wide trailer house in Woodward.  They called the “Trailer Park” South Downs and it is still there to this day.  I see me as a little girl standing next to my daddy as he cuts roses off a bush to take to my mommy and “Baby Bobby” in the hospital on that so very special day.

Daddy took me to a carnival in town.  It was the first one I remember being taken to.  He said we were “celebrating”.  Oh, was it fun!!!  Unfortunately, the fun ended there.  I was to become DAMAGED forever…

The memory of going back to our trailer is blurry and foggy in my head.  The memory that stands out is my daddy telling me he was going to show me how much he loved me.  I didn’t like “love” at all at first.  “Love” hurt really, really bad!!!  but his melodic voice continued over and over and over with those words of how much daddy loves me.  How good I was, how special….  I get sick to my stomach as I write this for you feeling the heaviness, the drowning feeling, sick, dizzy….  I can’t go on, I can’t, I can’t tell you…  I can’t.

Bobby’s birthday will haunt me forever…  33 years is approaching so fast.  I’m sorry, baby brother, but I HATE your birthday!  How horrible do you think I feel that I wish that day did not exist.  Oh, Bobby, I’m sorry….  I love you, I do!  You are my baby brother.  I need you!



November 2011




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