Blackburn's

It was funny how Evelyn seemed inexorably and irrevocably tied to my Father, Richard.

She would only say, “I fell in love with him from the moment he said hello.

He was handsome, and self-confident and intelligent.

It was all very romantic, at least at first.

He couldn’t do enough for me in the begining.

He was very gallant and gracious.

Then, after we were married, he changed.

He was nasty, and demanding.”

Her blue eyes clouded over

“Mom, Dad loves you. I know he does.”

I did.

She smiled and brushed a tear from her eye, slightly smearing the Mabelline.

“I don’t know, Michael, some times I think he does.

Sometimes I think he only loves himself

I never even thought of another man when I was with your father.

He thinks I was sleeping with other men, but I wasn’t. I had no interest in other men.

Then I got pregnant with Patrick.

He was pretty sweet for a while after that.

He was crazy about Patrick.

He thought Patrick resembled him.

That’s what every man wants, of course.

He wants his children to resemble him.

Your Dad must have had a guilty conscience, because when you were born he started saying things like, ‘Why is his hair so dark?

He has green eyes? No one in my family has green eyes.’

Then he said, ‘He’s not my son.’

I’ve told him there was zero possibility that he was someone else’s child..”

The first time Mom told me that story I was shocked and puzzled.

It has been said many times, by various family members, that Dick had charm. He had kissed the Blarney Stone.

He was called by some, “The Influence.”

I felt his charisma.

I was his boy behind the lines, in a way.

Oh, I didn’t inform or spy, but I felt at the time we had a special relationship.

So even though I knew there was a possibility that Dad thought I wasn’t his son, I was crazy about him.

He was like G-d to me.

I should add, a god that did lots of bad things, as some gods do.

At least, according to legends.

Mom was making a dress for Maureen,

Maureen popped in and hugged her.

She chirped, “is it almost done, Mommy?”

“Almost, Sweetheart.”

“Thanks for making it for me, Mommy.”

She looked down at the smiling child, “ Well, Honey, you are going to look like a fairy tale Princess in this dress.”

It was Dad’s birthday.

We had been talking about it all day.

Mom had been cooking and sewing and cleaning all day, and she was looking forward to the party we were going to give Dad.

“I’m  going outside Mom, ok?”  I said as I headed towards the door.

I figured I’d hang out with brother Ricky  for a while.

I found him in the back yard, in a hole near the back fence.

The hole .

It was our clubhouse.