When my father, Allen Jones left five years ago, my mother was a mess. For the next thirty-six months, she only found comfort in drugs and alcohol. At the age of twelve, I thought everything about her reaction was normal.
When forty-eight months hit she found a new hobby, hoeing around. The next two months, men came and went as she tried to find love and affection in any of them. And I helplessly watched as her heart got broken over and over again. She never listened when I begged for her to just be happy with what she had.
At the beginning of her breakdown, the thought of not having a caring mother did not bother me at all. But when the thought of college appeared in my mind, dread started to settle in.
Fortunately, before the situation became chaotic, she met him. And until this day, the question of ‘What if I had met him first?’ remained in my head.