Roots to Wings

By B.L. Skinner

The '80s of self-indulgence and "It's all about me" has turned us into "Nobody understands what I am going through" and "Nobody cares." There is power in the memoirs on the bookshelves today, with such authors as Dave Pelzer, Carol Burnett, Mackenzie Phillips, Ashley Judd, and Shania Twain. These authors are giving us positive nourishment and starting conversations. We are reconnecting with our neighbors across the street as well as across the globe, with two common threads-we are all human beings and we are not alone. These books allow a reader to open up at their own pace. The memoirs of today contain everything, from abandonment to the taboo. Still, these books are all basically one person talking to another, with the exception you know exactly what the subject is about. The books give you a voice that inspires you to take the next step to be able to talk to your family and friends. I have spent my life with some of the right people, but mostly all the wrong people, hoping they could show me I am a worthy human being. In this story, I have brought together all my challenges and teachers that are now my allies to tell the story of my life. In those seconds when you have looked soul to soul with someone to fight for your worth and your heart pounds and your mouth is dry, you can only hope that in those fleeting seconds they have looked deep enough to see you. We all want to have our voices heard; sometimes we just need a little help.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9781635683011

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Roots to Wings

B.L. Skinner

Copyright © 2018 B.L. Skinner

All rights reserved

First Edition

Page Publishing, Inc

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc 2018

ISBN 978-1-63568-300-4 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63568-301-1 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

To my daughters,

I am because you loved me.

Introduction

I measured time by the shadows that draped across the bedroom, with an orderly desolation; I was choosing to do nothing, only my pain to keep me company. As the crisp lines of the window coverings blurred, I resolved myself, with no delusions as to the night that lay ahead of me. I bored myself with repetitious actions of my body. I blinked my eyes to see if I could hear my lashes. I listened to my body for the signs of damage from the war between us. I watched as the digital lights changed from three shapes to four.

A momentary crack in consciousness, I thought I could distract myself by reading my junk mail. It was then that I had to walk by his laptop. A random thought and moment of opportunity, he was gone, and I would just give it a try. After all, he said he changed his password, and if I got in, it was his fault. I was going to erase any of the pictures I didn’t like from Cancun.

When you are viewed as a worthy opponent, you don’t look for ways to keep the war going; you look for ways to end it. I found what I was looking for. Relieved, I erased the ones that included me. However, with much disgust, I left the other pictures alone. I was looking at some of his other documents, unprepared for what I was going to read. The title was Numbers. It was a list of twenty-six women he had slept with, and he listed everything they had done together; it was not a list of dinner and movie nights! I don’t think I was really surprised by the list; it’s just that there were twenty-six names, and mine was 25.

Since finding out about number 26, the early morning hours in his room are the same, full of shadows that dance between the dim lights of the alarm clock and his cell phone. I know he is next to me, sometimes I move closer to him, hoping to connect, praying that somehow the heat of his body can warm my emptiness.

It had been four and a half years since our vows, yet sharing his bed feels like the loneliest place on earth.

Chapter 1

The One Who Loves You Will Lift You Up

Thursday (June 9, 2005)

The sun was rising earlier on the ranch. The alarm gave notice at its usual time, and I greeted it with my enthusiastic morning charm! I pulled on my jeans and T-shirt and headed for coffee. I didn’t always get to savor my morning cup of coffee; it was more like if someone took a shot of whisky for a buzz. I just wanted the caffeine.

I grabbed my boots and proceeded out the screen door, being careful not to slam it and wake my daughters. I was met by the praise that only man’s best friend can express, two black Labs Jake and Jizzy. After our morning wrestling match, Jake and Jizzy would accompany me to give the horses breakfast. Five paddocks in the front and four pastures down the alley.

There is a renewed energy in the country that just isn’t the same in town. Everything greets the morning so much different. An uninhibited view of the sunrise, animals stammer from a warm bed, the vibration and exhilaration of a cool, fresh morning.

I had one last chore before going back in the house. As I rounded the side of the old barn to feed the dogs, I noticed my daughter’s car; it looked like she had hit every mud puddle between here and town.

With a smile, I told her as if she were standing there, Today in every little way that I can, I want you to know you are important! Within fifteen minutes, I had washed away all of the signs of the mud puddles and given her one of the first small but meaningful high school graduation gifts!

However, there was another event happening later that day that would also change our family structure. I had a date with Rick.

It was exciting, the surrender to someone’s attention. We meet for lunch at the restaurant of his choice, hoping I would be impressed with his familiarity to the owner. Rick was generous with his time and let me carry the conversation. I glowed as I rattled off and counted my blessings. There was one question that he managed to ask more than once, Is Gracie’s dad going to be at her graduation? I answered honestly Yes each time, with nothing to hide from this new space of intimacy.

My lunch hour was drawing to a close, and the minute counter at work would be there to remind me if I was not seated at my desk at the stroke of one! So I made my apologies, thanked him with a gentle kiss on the cheek, and left him to take care of the check.

That afternoon, my heart was full of love, pride, and adoration, for that was the day my oldest daughter would graduate from high school. My mind wondered in and out of daydreams, both for her and for myself. I picked up the last few treasures I would present her today on my way home.

Gracie was radiant; her face boasted of satisfaction, of when you have risen above the challenges and surpassed a doubter expectations. Her beauty was only outshined by her confidence. In the company of her family and friends, she attained her rite of passage. In the moment that her name was announced, I stood and cheered with everything my body could muster, yet in a stadium of thousands, I remembered the surreal calmness that came over my body that I had felt once before.

The day she was born, it was one of the two happiest days of my life. Second was the birth of my youngest daughter, Jorja Rose. I did not understand how much their souls would complete mine. Delivery was horrifyingly painful, and I should point out that there was construction going on in the hospital. The construction workers were all over the hospital, and they just happened to be working on the delivery room. There were no doors, but lots of mirrors, and guess what was facing due south. And I had no painkillers! That night on my dinner tray was a note signed with Many blessings from the construction workers!

There is a second that seems to stop in time at the birth of a child. Every muscle in your body works extremely hard in some unexplained rhythm. Someone is fighting just as hard to get out and shine for the entire world to see. At that point, a parent sees what the child will take a lifetime to prove, a moment that changes the universe.

June 10, 2005, Friday morning, I was welcomed by a sweet sentimental e-mail with a request to join Rick for dinner. I reminded him of my ranch chores and asked him to make it a late dinner. He agreed. I followed up with a poem I had written some time back, recycled yet effective. He responded with an enticement of his own: Do you own a bathing suit, and how do you feel about hot tubs? My reply was I like hot tubs, but do not own a bathing suit!

That night, he went out of his was to create an environment in which I would be impressed, and I was. Rick barbecued a couple of steaks and served it with a nice bottle of wine. Later that evening, I was introduced to his daughter HRH, or Reece, by picture. However, it took me by surprise when I asked him what HRH stood for. Rick’s flamboyant answer was Her Royal Highness!

An hour or two later, he suggested the hot tub. With a flush of modesty and a desire that up until then I thought I had overcome, I told him, I didn’t bring a bathing suit. In that instant, a smile revealed the exhibitionist side of him. That’s okay!

Rick catered to my innocence. I have an old robe you can wear, and I will look the other way when you get in! The robe was one decorated with fish, like a robe a grandmother would give to a boy on their eleventh birthday, and I was clinging to it. Rick topped off our glasses of wine, and then we made our way out the back door.

It was my turn first. After handing him my glass, I disrobed while he faced the other way. I don’t think he peeked, but as he disrobed, I did and admired all that the moonlight would reveal!

Our next date was a weekend of wine tasting on the coast. It was nice to have a little vacation from the ranch. I entrusted my ranch chores to Gracie for the weekend and checked in on her a couple of times during the day. Rick and I walked on the beach, sat at the bar with a harbor view, and watched the sunset. We talked about things from a perspective I had not expressed before. Rick took it all in; he listened to what he wanted to hear and responded with his perception of brilliance to what he could challenge while watching for signs of weakness.

We explored and exhausted each other as new lovers do!

Following that weekend, I was given a little black box with the fancy script of a jewelry store on the top. I have to admit my palms got a little sweaty when he first handed it to me. Much to my relief, it was just a key to his house. We had known each other about six months, so he wasn’t giving it to a complete stranger. I used the key liberally; I left lipstick messages on his mirror and a single white rose regularly.

One night about the end of July, I had dozed off in his arms. I was awakened, with the startle of dogs barking, realizing the time I got up and got dressed to go home. As I kissed him good-bye, I expected a gentle sleepy kiss back. However, what I got was him yelling, What the hell is Gracie good for, and why can’t she feed? Followed by a lecture half under his breath about how important his feelings were. The next day, I successfully avoided his calls at work and did not really care if I heard from him again.

That night, the girls were gone, so I did my chores early. It was a warm night, so I took a shower and slipped on a silky nightshirt to stay cool. I grabbed the remote and had just settled on the couch when Rick’s car went past the living room window. I sighed as I headed for the door to greet him.

Rick slammed his car door and spouted across the patio, What the hell are you doing? Really, I think it’s obvious! I replied. Seeing my response, Rick changed in an instant. He smiled and said, I miss you. I am sorry I didn’t mean it the way you took it last night. I was half asleep! Can I please come in so we can talk?

I positioned myself at the opposite side of the kitchen; I let him continue with his justification. After a short time of wanting to believe him, I let my guard down. Ironically, after a brief visit to my bedroom, he excused himself, telling me he would not sleep very well here and it would be better if he went home.

The next morning, I enjoyed my coffee out on the front porch, reflecting on the gifts I had received since moving to the ranch in 2003.

When we moved to the ranch, it was fall, when the days were short. One evening, I went out in the dark to feed the horses. I noticed one of the pens had a broken gate. We had two horses we kept in this pen, Brook and Solana. Brook walked up first. I gave her a quick glance and then Solana. They seemed to be okay, so I went ahead and fixed the gate and then fed the rest of the horses. I called my sister Lynn to let her know. She asked me to do a more thorough inspection of her horses. Sure enough, Brook had a severe gash on the inside of her leg.

I grabbed a halter and led Brook out to the driveway. I tied her to the big oak tree that was between the house and the barn. Soon after, one of my sister’s friends showed up, Julie. She came to the house to check on the rookie ranch hand.

While we were waiting for a vet, I noticed a silhouette at the end of the driveway. This was the middle of nowhere, with no street lights; you just didn’t see people walking by. Then the silhouette decided they were going to come up the driveway. As the silhouette came into the light, I saw it was a Hispanic farm worker. As soon as I asked what he wanted, I also realized he was very drunk. I became insistent that he needed to be on his way. At this point in the conversation, it was clear he didn’t want to go anywhere.

I asked Julie to go into the house and get me a phone and my shotgun. With a look of panic and of forced trust, she did as I asked. When she returned, she retreated to just behind the tree, where the horse was standing. Glancing over my shoulder, I realized the tree was big enough for both of them to hide behind, and they did. The horse was peeking around one side of the tree and Julie the other. I raised my voice to what I thought was a firm and controlled tone, letting the gentleman know that he needed to leave as I was dialing the sheriff.

When I got through to the sheriff, I was told it could be up to forty-five minutes before an officer could be of any assistance.

By this time, my daughters had also succumbed to their own curiosity to what was going on in the driveway, wondering to whom I was yelling, and watched from the living room window. I shined the light from the