Sister Sista!
“I haven’t time to waste my time with the likes of you!…”
I would think by now you’ve read enough to understand some of the reasons as to why mine and Dales relationship is the way it is. Since my teens there has been a steady flow and varying degrees of shit, so when the events of the past five years first unfolded the majority of it was of no great surprise.
However, what did take me by surprise is how the relationship between myself and my sister fell apart. To be totally honest I’m still flummoxed. It’s actually quite funny as the love and adoration I had for Dale as a child could not be said of my feelings for her.
Our sisterly bond didn’t really kick in until after she left home. Before then it felt like I was more tolerated than loved. She was always so bloody miserable! There were never any girly sessions or guidance from her. I actually struggle to recall any major bonding moments that didn’t involve me trying to garner some form of affection.
There is an eleven year age gap between us, so by the time I was 10 she was 21 and we had little in common. By then I was a typical kid into my pop tunes but had also been introduced to my Black side via my eldest brother. She was different. She had a Black side but it was more diluted.
Considering that she and Dale were born in Antigua they both spoke as if they were born with silver spoons in their mouths. Dale would switch it up every now and then and try and drop a little patois into the mix, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her speak anything but the queen’s English and banshee.
She liked jazz, funk and soul, and I credit her for introducing me to the likes of Anita Baker, Maze, Roy Ayers and Tania Maria. My main impression of her back then was that she liked make up and shoulder pads, wining, dining, hobnobbing and white men.
I mentioned previously that she and Dale never talked when I was little. I used to think that part of the reason must be because she was so moody and uptight, but then I finally got it. She was bouji!, and I came to understand it was mostly frustration at her environment. For someone of her imagined stature living at home must have been torture for her.
It wasn’t unusual to have the smell of sweat and testosterone wafting upstairs alongside the grunts and groans of Dale and his mates working out. Not the greatest when you want to relax with a glass of wine and chill with Robbie Vincent.
She was smart (or so I thought), had good taste and liked the finer things in life, but we were flexing with Vimto money and she had champagne tastes! She tried though, bless her. I’ll never forget the time she bought carpet for the front room. Lovely, fluffy, deep pile CREAM carpet…👀
Even at my young age I knew it was a disaster waiting to happen!
It was lovely carpet for about a week. Then Dale came home one day and walked clean through the front room with his muddy Doc Martens and left a trail of destruction behind him. Understand the rest of us virtually hovered over this fucking carpet let alone sip beverages darker than water anywhere near it.
You have to go upstairs to enter the front room, so he had plenty of opportunity to take his boots off before walking on it but chose not to. He was basically saying fuck you and your carpet.
I remember the vexation from my sister at the time. I can’t be certain but I believe that was a turning point for her. She realised her efforts were not going to be appreciated within the house. I’m sure it helped to cement her decision to leave home and have all the cream carpet her little heart desired.
Well she did just that. Cream carpet an’ all! She was seeing her now husband at the time and they eventually moved in together. I remember Dave and I praising the Lord that she’d gone. The mood totally lifted and from then on our relationship was great. I’d literally never seen her so happy. Space was definitely what was needed all round. She was free to be as bouji as she pleased and was loving it, and most definitely living her best life.
On paper we were polar opposites. Looks, tastes, lifestyles – everything!, but we had at last bonded. We’d often talk about things going on at home and Dales behaviour. She was glad to be well out of it all and was in no way looking back. In fairness to her, despite not coming back to the house very often, whenever she upgraded anything she would give the old bits to mum to help spruce the place up. I say old bits but they weren’t old or battered. It was all good quality stuff and mum was grateful.
My sister was always adamant that she didn’t want to have children. They’d encroach on her lifestyle too much. Bali’s not quite the same with a bawling brat in tow don’t you know!? She was good with my two girls and her other nephews and nieces, but admittedly far from the motherly type.
Just after having my second daughter I discovered that I had two other sisters on my dads side that lived in London. I knew I had other siblings but didn’t have a clue that any lived in England. One of them happened to go on a trip organised by the Antigua Association and met a woman who told her she knew of siblings she had in Slough.
She took her number and passed it on to my mum who passed it on to me. Now after giving birth to my daughter, a week later I was in hospital with a headache I’d had for the whole week. I’d never felt anything like it. It was the worst and constant. It felt as if my brain was being battered inside my head and any kind of light was like torture.
As it turns out I had a benign pituitary adenoma, and after spending 2 weeks in hospital and having a fit, I came round to discover the headache gone and along with it all recollection of giving birth. I remembered being pregnant but not much after that and totally did not register my baby as being mine…sorry Sadé.
I’d had enough head fucks by then, so receiving a number from a sister on my dads side wasn’t really appealing to me. I had visions of her trying to get me to reconnect with him and I sooo wasn’t interested. I believe it was my husband who encouraged me to make contact…it’s all quite hazy, but I do remember the day we actually met.
I had to laugh. It was a lovely summers day and it was as if the higher power were saying, you know what girlfriend, you’ve done been through enough honey chil’! Have this on me!
They were like the sisters I’d imagined and never got. They were FULLY in touch with their roots and we all looked alike. One of them even had locs and smoked too! We clicked and bonded straight away. Like me they had Black partners and Black kids and all I kept thinking was why couldn’t I have met them sooner?
Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against mixed relationships and I have no issues with it at all. It was just nice to have females on my level who could relate to being my kind of Black. I never had that with my sister, and my mum and I were generations apart. The fact that they couldn’t stand our father either just added to the love.
My paternal sisters came to Slough and met the rest of my family and we’ve been in regular contact ever since. A couple of years after meeting them my sister unexpectedly found herself pregnant. That wasn’t just a shock to her but to all of us, trust me.
She was in her early forties by then and recognised the miracle that it was so decided to keep it. I was happy for her and especially her husband. As much as he was happy to live life as a twosome you could tell he’d love to have had a child of his own.
And I was pretty sure this child had come to fix my sister!
Whenever and wherever I could I helped out. I loved my niece and at that time my sister couldn’t drive, so if she needed anything or had to go anywhere whilst her husband was at work I would be there. When she went back to work I looked after her. She knew I smoked but it wasn’t an issue. She knew I wasn’t a junkie and wouldn’t do it around her daughter.
We were good. We were tight. I thought I knew her. Sure she was bouji and a little stuck up, but ultimately she was good people. Hear me when I say when the shit hit the fan I was totally blindsided by her and it cut deep. Real deep! Never did I imagine she’d be Pinky to The Brain.
She sent the opening quote to me. This was well after all of Dales escapades I’ve mentioned previously and after the majority of what you’ve yet to discover. For her to look down her nose at ‘the likes of me’ whilst backing the likes of him is to me beyond a joke.
As much as she may think cannabis has fucked me up in the head, it seems it’s not a touch on the gin that’s addled her brain! I promised her that one day I would remind her of everything.
Buckle up bitch!😂
R.I.P Diahann Carroll and all those who have passed away recently
R.I.P Joy Morgan. Now your family can finally put you to rest
Huge congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith, Katarina Johnson-Thompson, Shelly-Ann Fraser-Price, Allyson Felix and Nia Ali for totally smashing it for black women in the World Athletics Championships!
Wtf!? Are Ukipping Me!?
“The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me…”
I’m sure that by now some of you, possibly a lot of you, are still questioning why I’ve chosen to air and share. For the paracats and those who I’ve ever had an issue with you can rest easy!
I’m hoping that if you’ve read Disclaimers 1-3, like really read them and not just skipped through to The Dales, you’ll have more understanding of the person I am. Believe I have no trouble in locking folk off without the need to go to these lengths. I’m rational enough to know not everyone will like me, and I in turn don’t like some people, but that isn’t going to effect my everyday life.
This is different because it did effect my everyday life on a number of levels – in fact the main cause of it has been effecting it for the longest while, and quite simply, I’m done.
There comes a point in your life when you have a lightbulb moment. I’ve had a few, but the most significant one came when cancer came calling. That bitch made me pay real attention. I don’t expect many to get it and I can’t really explain it, but let’s just say it gives you a form of clarity that can only come when your life is on the line.
I can’t stress enough how much I honestly have no time for bullshit. So when you see me putting my energy behind this you had best believe it’s for a good reason. The absolute best reason. Me.
To you it may seem as if I’m having a laugh or being disrespectful, petty and bitchy. I get that it may come across as such, but that is your opinion and you are most welcome to it. I’m hoping that my words have managed to convey more than that and you can see that it goes a lot deeper than sheer pettiness. If not, oh well! I can’t make you see it any clearer without the help of a wand and a pensieve!*
OurStory has shown me a lot, and something that you can’t escape but notice being brought up Black back in the day, is that we don’t like to talk and respect is age controlled. You’re to respect your elders regardless. They’ve been here longer than you so it’s an automatic given. Hmmn…
It’s mad the people and things others will show respect to and their reasons for doing so. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for respect – when it’s due! I don’t give a flying fuck how old you are, who you are, or what title you hold: NO ONE is above giving respect, and in turn you will receive it. For me, your actions will determine when it’s given, not hot air and the fact that you’ve managed to exist a few years more than me. Soz! And by actions I don’t mean shit that you’ve accumulated, money included. I’m talking on a humanitarian level.
Religion, especially Christianity, has played a big part in the Black community since way back when, and as we all know it comes with commandments that are supposed to be adhered to. This is one of the issues I have with religion. It’s not the commandments themselves as such, but the fact that most like to work the system.
Way too many believe that their wrongdoings are accounted for because they’ve attended church on a regular basis and given it to God. Because they have confessed their sins the board has been wiped clean and they are free to go at it again. #RepentCheatLieRepeat
I’ve mentioned before that I’m not religious, but I do believe in a higher power. Because I choose not to go to church or follow a book, it doesn’t make me a lesser person or a heathen. Again it goes back to respect and what people perceive to be respectable behaviour. Just because you wear the title of Christian it doesn’t mean you get a free pass on fuckery from me.
Practice what you preach or shut the fuck up. I’m sorry, not sorry, but I won’t respect hypocrites. Despite my beliefs not measuring up to some, they are what I live by and I’m good with that. It’s the reason why I can sit here and write this, because I have the belief that the truth will set me free. I can admit (most) of my faults and flaws to the point of putting it out there for all to see.
If someone comes at me I only have myself to blame and will deal with it accordingly. I plead the fifth (or whatever the English equivalent is) on my actions before 18 years old. I was a minor and have mostly apologised or made amends for any transgressions made during that period. As an adult I will own anything after that time. Any fallouts I may have had with people since then can be justified in my mind and I stand by whatever went down. #SayItWithYourChest
Over the years Dale has tried on many hats. He is the proverbial Mr Benn. On two occasions he tried on the councillor hat, and that was the cause of one of the issues I supposedly created for him.
Up until now, I can understand why you’d want to refrain from publicly forming an opinion on what I’ve written. Without posting every piece of proof I have it’s purely my word on the character of the ‘man’. Fortunately for me, he just can’t help himself.
Wait for it!
2015 was to be a memorable year for so many reasons, and this was definitely a highlight! Before I knew the true extent of his deeds and shit fully went down, I went round to visit my mum one sunshiny day. I pulled up, got out of my car and as I looked up I had to double take and make sure it was the right house I’d come to.
A huge, fuck off, purple and yellow sign was in my mums front room window, clearly displaying that its inhabitants were supporting UKIP! #UWhat
I made my way inside, upstairs and straight to the window to take that shit down! My mum had been diagnosed with dementia by then, but I was pretty sure even she wasn’t afflicted with the level of brain damage it would take to be Black and support them. I was right. That takes a truly special case.
When I walked into the kitchen I noticed a pile of flyers and picked one up. I know people say “I couldn’t believe my eyes!”, but that was really the case. Dales smiling face was looking back at me. He was standing as councillor of Chalvey for fucking UKIP. #UKOCK
Before this point I didn’t have a clue that that was the direction he was heading in. Not a scooby! Like the majority of Black households we were Labour supporters. That’s all I’d ever known. When I got old enough to vote I didn’t for the first few years. As far as I was concerned it was a load of bollocks. They all chatted breeze and came with false promises for better futures. I held fast, then Tony Blair managed to dupe me with promising “Things will only get better!” KMT!
I stopped again after that, and that was me until Brexit. After that shambles I made a promise to myself I am never voting again and I mean it. They’ve had their 3 strikes and even though they can’t decide what they’re doing, I’m well and truly out! #Brexodus
I spoke to my twin to find out whether he knew. He told me Dale had mentioned it to him just before the flyers and newspapers came out. Great! Now, I know everyone has a right to live their life and do what they want – but some manoeuvres you gotta question! Which is exactly what I did.
I called him and asked him if he’d bumped his fucking head. UKIP were rooted in racism, division and hate and he had his big Black face as their token poster boy. In CHALVEY of all places. WTF!? He blew it off and said that there were racists in all of the parties and he believed in their policies so didn’t have a problem with standing for them.
I highlighted the fact that he was preaching about immigrants and the immigration procedure and promising to clamp down on the issue, yet he was one of the people he was preaching about! How could he be so hypocritical? Did he think he was safe because he’d spent a bit of time over here? N***a please!
I tried hard to put my point across but it fell on deaf ears. He was a grown man at the end of the day and it was his decision. If he was comfortable that’s his business. I left him to it and that was it until a couple of weeks later when I bumped into someone in Asda.
She mentioned that Dale had canvassed her house and she’d seen an article in the local paper advertising who was standing for what party and was wondering if I supported them too?
Oh, HELL NO!
There’s not a lot of things I feel I need to defend but THIS was one of them. He had mentioned his links with the church and our mothers name in the blurb on his flyers too, so there was no denying we were aquatinted, and also people might question who mum stood for as well. It was time for me to talk up.
I put a post up on Facebook clearly stating that he alone stood for that bullshit party and to my knowledge no other member of the family were affiliated with them. I made my feelings crystal clear!
IN MY OPINION NO SELF RESPECTING BLACK PERSON OR PERSON OF COLOUR WOULD EVER EVEN THINK ABOUT VOTING FOR THEM, LET ALONE HAVING THEIR FACE PLASTERED ALL OVER PUBLICATIONS AS THEIR TOKEN BLACK BOY! END OF!
I’m really not interested in hearing what excuses those particular fuckwits come up with as to why they choose to do so. Just miss me with the bullshit and know I think less of you for doing so. If you really wanted to make a change there are so many different and more palatable ways to go about it than to join and proudly stand for UKIP.
Dale obviously had no qualms about publicly putting his face out there and I felt the same way in publicly making it known what I was about. This however, didn’t go down well with brother dearest.
I was informed by a sibling that he told them I had been disrespectful and caused him shame and embarrassment by voicing my opinion. Yep, you read right. ME! I was the cause of his shame and embarrassment and I shouldn’t have put my beliefs out there. ME!!
Are Ufuckingkipping me!?! #UKUNT
Naturally there’s no shame whatsoever to be had in him putting his face on flyers and knocking on peoples doors begging for votes. There’s no embarrassment to be had at all in proudly plastering your face all over the place and backing such a party. Of course it’s all my fault because I didn’t show a united front or keep my mouth shut.
Alrighty then!
He managed to muster 343 votes that year, and in 2016 he once again stood for UKIP but representing Cippenham Meadows instead. I’m guessing he thought he could appeal more to the White masses, but managed less votes than the previous year at 229.
I’ve gotta laugh at the fact that he could put himself out there and knock on peoples doors to talk himself up, yet he didn’t have the front to speak to me about anything. Not the fact he was doing it or that he was upset by my post. Instead he decided to be a pussyhole and bitch about it to others. Judging by his character he would have fit in well if he had made it through. He has all the right attributes for that particular job.
Don’t put yourself out there if you’re not prepared to take what comes with it. You create your own problems when you choose to follow certain paths, and his choice to take the steps he did was just that – HIS CHOICE! Own it! I am not about pretending. If you’re looking for a muppet you can think again.
There are no strings on me!😉
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives recently.
A HUGE congratulations to Dina Asher-Smith and Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce on your wins in the 100m. #BlackGirlMagic at its finest!
*One for the Harry Potter fans!
Affairs Of The Heart
“The situation between myself and Dawn Williams has always been an issue, for whatever reason she has chosen to create problems for me…”
And we’re back to that line! We’ll be coming back to it a few more times still, but for now if you’ve read It’s A Family Affair you’ll have some understanding of today’s topic.
Sometimes life has a way of putting things in your path. In Disclaimer (Part 1) I spoke about signs of the star and mystic variety and the fact that I believe some signs we are meant to see. Dale would have you believe that my life is so boring I have nothing better to do than find myself all up in his business. Like most narcissistic sociopaths (he’s been upgraded), he fails to realise that HIS actions have consequences. Shit doesn’t just disappear because you choose to forget about it!
Back in ‘94 Dale started seeing someone. Our relationship at that point was ok. He had become a born again Christian (😐), attended church twice a week and he surprised the fuck out of me by dating a Black woman! Before then I knew he had dalliances with a few but as far as I was aware and seen, his preference was White women.
She was from Leicester and was lovely. I admit to being amazed he’d bagged her, but then again he does have the gift of the gab and was still fit and good looking so I could see her attraction I guess. She had been doing for herself before meeting him and had a young daughter. We got on really well and she was of Antiguan heritage too so that was an added bonus. We’d often travel up from Slough to go to the carnival or to just visit and were in regular contact – she was good people.
Being completely honest I’d hoped that she might have been the one to set him straight, but I can see now that was mission impossible; and at a time where I possibly held out a little hope he wasn’t a total cunt.
We both fell pregnant in ‘99, me having my eldest in October and her giving birth to my niece in January. By 2004 she got blinded by the light and they were over. I commend her for lasting nearly 10 years.
At that time Dale showed his true colours like you wouldn’t believe but that’s another tale for another day!
During the time of their relationship he was still in contact with his 2 sons from his failed marriage and had introduced them to their little sister. To say his eldest saw sunshine when looking at him is an understatement. His dad was his idol and they both adored him. They had been mostly shielded from the truth of what had caused their parents to split, apart from one encounter when the eldest was about 10.
He had been informed he had another brother and was obviously very upset. He asked his dad and he denied it and said it was all lies. His son naturally accepted it and moved on. Personally, I know he was a child at the time, but I believe it would have been better to tell him the truth. It’s not the truth people need protecting from – it’s the lies! Despite my beliefs, he’s not my child so I kept out.
Fast forward a few years and I’m bopping through Queensmere shopping centre, minding my own business, and I’m stopped by a woman who asked if she could speak to me. She wasn’t familiar to me and I thought she was going to try and sell me some kind of shit, so being the polite person that I am I listened first before shutting her down.
Well!! When she asked if I was Dawn my ears pricked up. I scanned for the lucky heather, and then when she asked if I was Dales sister I did a mental eye roll, inhaled and braced myself. She informed me that she had a daughter by him and wanted to let us know as Dale wasn’t acknowledging anything and she has a right to know who her family are.
It’s not every day you get a random come up and tell you these things. She didn’t look cray-cray but you never can tell, and she was mad enough to get pregnant by him so…👀 I asked a few questions, took her number and told her I would have to talk to my brother and would contact her once I’d done so.
By this time the incident in Antigua had already happened. I was fuming that he could carry on and treat mum the way he did and I’d written him a letter as he was still away to let him know how I felt. If you hadn’t noticed I’m a bit passionate like that. Funnily enough he didn’t appreciate it!
I got a phone call when he got back asking what I was doing sending him letters, so I said no worries, I’ll come and see him instead. I came to the house and explained exactly what my beef was and that was when he again reiterated that he did not get to live the life he wanted because he had to take care of us, and that I was disrespectful in sending him letters disregarding all his years of effort.
I totally understand, love and appreciate him for stepping up and would never do it down – but to say his life was ruined because of it is a little fucking rich. We were born in 1974 and he left home less than 10 years later and was not financially responsible for us way before then so, wtf!? It’s not like by then all of the best years of his life had gone. He would have been in his early twenties – hardly past his frigging prime! Were we seriously going to be held responsible for HIS life? It would appear so.
I left him to wallow in his self pity and we hardly spoke again after that. I really didn’t have time. I grew the hell up at 17 when I left. He was in his forties and still pining about missed opportunities. He had it better than I did as he was still living virtually bill free and rent free, working, running “businesses” and not taking care of any dependents. By this time his ass should have been out of the house a long time ago, but yet here he was, bitching. Fuck off! You can miss me with that bullshit.
Now I had to go and speak to him again after having this bombshell dropped at my feet. As you can imagine that went down well.
I came round to the house to talk to him. I explained the situation and he straight up denied it and tried to make out it was nonsense. I told him there had to be some truth in it. Women don’t usually approach others about these types of things without having some kind of certainty. He then admitted that he had slept with her once and that he knew for a fact that she was sleeping around with lots of other Black men so it was probably one of them.
I pointed out the fact that even if that was the case (which I highly doubt!), it still made him a contender in the baby daddy stakes and the only way to be sure was to take a DNA test. That’s when he lost it and shut it down. He didn’t need to do one because he knew, in my best Maury voice – he was not the father.
I called the woman back and told her what he’d said. She was adamant he was the father and I have to say I believe her – especially after seeing a picture of her daughter. But looks alone is not concrete evidence. Her mum spoke to her and at the time she wasn’t ready to deal with it, which I totally understood, but we have since been in contact. I know there is nothing on paper stating who she is but I’m not about to dismiss her because of it.
Even if it turns out she’s not his I wouldn’t view it as wasted time. What’s wrong with showing a little love regardless? I wish more people put as much effort into loving as they did fucking. The world would be a better place.
By this time his sons were adults and their relationship with their dad was ok but the shine had definitely diminished. We all still lived in the same town so I did what any logical thinking person would do and made it known that they possibly had another sister in Slough. I make no apologies for it. By this time she was nearly 16 and they were males. Shit happens, and I’d prefer it if it didn’t happen between siblings thank you. They took it well, I’m guessing they had already started a little chalkboard of their own!
A few years after that I’m sat at home, minding my own business, and the phone rings. It’s my fiancé. He’s in the barber shop and I’m not going to believe who he’s with. He said he walked in and there was a young man sat down and he looked exactly like Dale so he asked him his name.
It turns out that he was the son that was conceived whilst he was still married – and unbeknown to me at the time, the biggest sign the higher power was to send out!
I did not create any of these ‘problems’. HE CREATED PEOPLE! I wasn’t out digging into his business, I stepped in his shit. But unlike him I dealt with it instead of ignoring it and spreading it further. Because I did this I’m being accused of interfering in his affairs, and yet again I say, so be it.
It’s a family affair once kids are involved, and some of us actually recognise what that entails.
R.I.P to the young boy who passed away in Salt Hill Park and to all those who have lost their lives recently. We seriously need to find a way to combat the madness.
Congratulations to Jharrel Jerome on winning an Emmy for your magnificent portrayal of Korey Wise in When They See Us.
Congratulations to Jurgen Klopp on being named the Best FIFA men’s coach of the year! #YNWA
This was originally published a few years ago but is relevant reading for Tales Of The Dales.
Family. A bunch of people affiliated by blood, marriage or whatever. They can bring you joy, pain, sunshine and rain and this week I was reminded of that.
My impression of family doesn’t stop at the bloodline. It extends to anyone in my life who truly knows me, understands me and takes the time to show me. Someone who will be there by my side – ride or die!
We’re family as long as you do right by me and those around you. I don’t feel obliged to like you because we share blood and I’m not going to dismiss you because we don’t, but that’s just my interpretation. Of course there are plenty of others who don’t think that way. Some believe that being family gives them the right to say and do anything they please and because there is that invisible bond you are tied to their bullshit.
You shouldn’t dare open up your mouth and say anything. You respect them regardless of how they act, don’t talk your business and if anyone asks everything’s fine and all’s good in the hood – and you never bring shame on the family!! Unfortunately for some that’s not my belief.
I suppose it really boils down to what you class as shame. I’ll let you decide which is more shameful. When I was little I had a big brother who I idolised. I’d never known my dad and he was a great substitute. He was big and strong, good looking and popular and I really loved him……then I grew up and began to see people for what they are and I was no longer the little sister that adored him but a teenager that could actually see the real man behind the mask. Hence the start of our rocky relationship!
This is just one of many reasons why we don’t get along. I don’t know if it’s because I didn’t have a dad around but I’ve got a strong belief that if you’re going to have children you should do the job properly or if you can’t then make sure that they are provided for as best you can.
You may have noticed if you’ve read a few of my previous blogs, I’m kinda into my heritage and believe everyone has a right to know where they came from. It’s not so easy for a lot of us to find our true ancestors through ancestry.co.uk so we need to hold on to what we do know and teach our children about where their roots lie. #RealTalk.
On Tuesday I had the pleasure of introducing my mum to her grandson for the first time in 25 years. It was a bittersweet meeting as she now suffers from vascular dementia so was unaware of the true capacity of it, but I believe had she been in her right body and mind it would have been a whole other story!
He’s the product of an affair, which means absolutely nothing to me in the shame stakes but a hell of a lot to certain family members. Nobody’s perfect, and as long as you put your hands up and own it that to me is less of an embarrassment than getting caught out there and denying shit that you know is true.
How you got here is neither here nor there – the fact that you exist is all that matters. At the time he was born I was only 16 and not ‘mixed up in big people business’ so didn’t know the full details. Fast forward 20 years and I got to know. But by me knowing, acknowledging and accepting I am looked down upon at welcoming him with open arms.
To some I’m seen as a traitor – I should be keeping it 100% legit! Others believe I’m just getting back at my brother by getting close to the son he denied for so long. Some just couldn’t give a shit and done got enough family!! – I hear you all, but you are you and I am me, and as much as I see where you’re coming from I’m having real trouble understanding it.
I’ve felt rejection from a parent and it’s not nice. My conscience would not allow me to walk away and disregard a person who didn’t ask to be here and wants to know to whom he belongs. How could I? How can people do it so easily? It’s needed – especially when people shit on their own doorstep and don’t man up about it! You can do your dirty deeds in the dark but when you donate sperm sometimes they pop out in the light!
Tuesday’s meeting should have happened decades ago and I am truly sorry he missed out on mums good years. If people had been open and honest from the beginning things may have been different. I’ve seen the damage lies and deceit cause which is why I only deal in real talk.
I made my intentions clear to my loved ones before even meeting my nephew for the first time and have been vilified by some for doing so, yet they would still expect me to show them respect. Despite who you are to me I cannot and will not respect you on the basis that we are family alone. You’ll get it when you give it.
I’m not ashamed to talk about it openly. There is no shame in standing up and saying a situation ain’t right. In fact if more talking had been done half the things that happened wouldn’t have gone down. I believe there is more shame to be had in ignoring it and trying to convince your family to ignore it too. That shame is all yours – you own it! You had an affair which is your business but when children are a by-product, IT’S A FAMILY AFFAIR so I won’t mind my own! I’ll mind the child you chose to forget!
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
Congratulations Team GB, especially mo on your double-double.
Congratulations to Usain Bolt on your triple-triple (medals that is!👀😂)
Chalking It Up!
“The problem is and always will be that since David and Dawn have been awarded control of our Mothers money, something that we had not agreed to, that there has been a scam going on with regards to what they are doing with her money…”
It’s said that money is the root of all evil. I don’t believe this to be completely true, but I do believe it can cause people to do evil things. You will notice that it’s mentioned prominently in the first paragraph of my last blog and it was a major factor throughout this whole debacle.
As I’ve mentioned my mum has vascular dementia, and naturally there came a point where she could no longer take care of her finances. Eventually myself and my twin would be awarded deputyship to deal with this, but for years before then I had already been helping my mum out. Dale states that he had not agreed to my twin and I being officially appointed. Well let me set the record straight.
There are several hoops you have to go through and 1001 pages of forms to fill in before you are given control. One particular form had to be sent to all siblings informing them that we were planning on being mums deputies; thus giving them the chance to contest it if they so wished. You had to state how the form was delivered and sign and date it to say that you had done so.
Dales was hand delivered directly to the property. We made sure we took photo evidence to be sure, and at that time we both had access to the property to take care of mum so we saw it every day. The envelope stayed in full view on the countertop unopened for weeks on end. I’m not sure if it was because he saw it had my handwriting on it so he didn’t want to open it, but that’s his business.
Obviously there was a time limit on when he could respond back and he’d missed it and then some. I can well imagine it’s probably still sitting somewhere unopened all these years later. By this point my sister was standing by his side, but she didn’t contest it either. I’m guessing it was before she’d become fully converted.
I know I keep saying this tale is about the past 5 years, but to put things in context I have to go back so you can get a clearer understanding of what’s to come, and so you, like Dale, might understand the reason as to why we are here.
You’d be forgiven for thinking there are only 4 siblings but in fact we have an older brother. He wasn’t mentioned previously as he never actually lived at the house. Myself and my twin are the only ones who were born here, the older 3 were all born in Antigua. He remained there with my grandparents when my mum, Dale and sister came over to England, and when he did finally arrive he lived in London before coming to Slough.
He is 19 years older than me so by the time I was born he would have been old enough to do his own thing once he reached this green and pleasant land. My relationship with all of my siblings are different, but out of the elders he is the one I get on best with…to be fair considering the options it’s no real shocker.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s not perfect by far. Between my father, Dale and himself my impression of men and relationships was a distinctly negative one. I certainly wasn’t going to take any shit from any man and marriage wasn’t worth the paper it was written on.
Don’t worry, someone did eventually break through the barriers! I still take no shit but I am married! But going back to my eldest brother, I have to give respect where it’s due. Without him my early years would have been dry as fuck! I ain’t even lying! Some of my best memories as a youngster were spent in his and his families company.
I don’t want to come straight out and say he was the black sheep of the family but he was the black sheep of the family. Literally. It’s gotta be said, Dale and my sister were decidedly original Oreo with a coconut twist, where he was a bourbon dipped in Bournville. If I’m keeping it 100, I’ve always felt that if we were living back in the times of slavery, should massa’s house and fields suddenly catch afire (👀), three of us would be running for the hills whilst the other two would be throwing buckets of water ‘cause we’s on fire!’ #GuessWho
He was in touch with his Black side and he was like the Pied Piper for me. One blessing my elder 2 siblings gave me was the love of various kinds of music, but he had the ragga and lovers rock tunes. He always had chewing gum or mints and would take us on drives to London. He smoked and drank and had an I-Give-Zero-Fucks kinda attitude and I loved it.
He was where the fun was at, and when we were with him we had the freedom we didn’t have at home. He lived with his partner and kids but they were deemed a little too ‘ghetto’ in certain families eyes, and it would appear in their opinion I was becoming the same way. That being said we were a lil’ ghetto, but all in all we were a little too Black and a little too proud for their liking.
Because he wasn’t around as much he had little to nothing to do or say with how things were run in the house. He’s a character, but ultimately a man of few words. Although he can create it occasionally, he doesn’t do drama and prefers a quiet life and to be left the hell alone, which I can relate to. We’ve definitely got that in common but not quite on the same level! In any case he wasn’t really needed to deal with anything anyway.
Now I’ve semi explained our eldest siblings absence, I’d like to go back to the reason why I was taking care of our mothers finances before being officially appointed to do so. By 2006 my twin had left home. Again this was a decision Dale was the root cause of.
After one particular holiday to Antigua, Dale made his feelings quite clear.
My dad was not the father of my elder siblings, yet for all his faults he still paid to get my mum and 2 children that didn’t belong to him over to England and housed. By all accounts – well from my sister anyway, he was pretty decent up until he left; at least to her, and I’m assuming Dale too. After that his name wasn’t spoken much in the house and if there were any mention, you could see and feel the annoyance of it clearly from my brother.
My dad didn’t just up and leave the home. He was cheating and chipped with another woman to America where he still resides. Dave and I first spoke to our dad via phone when we were six and then again when we were 12. At 16 he paid for my mum, my twin and myself to meet him in the flesh for the first time.
We spent 2 weeks in Philadelphia, and a week with some family in Florida, then returned home with renewed faith in our relationship. We didn’t hear from him again until we were over 30 years old…
By this time Dave and I were well and truly over him, but my mum would still talk to him. She was grown and it was her decision. She was happy enough to take a trip to Philly to go and see him and they were in regular contact. In 2006 my mother and Dale went on holiday to Antigua and were staying with my aunt. It just so happened my dad was over in Antigua too and decided to visit our mother at my aunts house. Big mistake!
Shit blew up, resulting in Dale making his feelings known. Our mother had disrespected him by having anything to do with that lowlife man and bringing him anywhere near him. He had spent the best part of his youth clearing this mans mess and in doing so did not get to live the life or do the things he wanted to do. How could she have the front to rub this man in his face?
He shouted at them all that he was owed for his years of sacrifice and when they got back to England he would be throwing Dave out of the house. Naturally mum was very upset and my aunt called and told us what had gone down. It was at that point Dave decided he wasn’t going to wait around for it to happen and left. #TwoDownOneToGo
When he was living at home, either Dave or I use to get the food shopping for mum as we were both driving and mum couldn’t. She would venture out down to Ali’s and the post office or to the high street, and would pop in to see her friends occasionally, but she would mainly communicate by phone. My sister likes to deny this but she would very rarely come to the house. She’d keep in contact with mum regularly by phone, but you could count the number of times she actually stepped foot in the house on a yearly basis on one hand.
Again, Dale was the main reason for this and before she’d drunk the Kool Aid.
She’d always had a touch of the Hyacinth Bucket about her (loving, long suffering husband to boot!) but she was right on this occasion in thinking our brother should do more around the house. It wasn’t run down but it was definitely shabby. When Dale first moved in he gave mum £20 a week to begin with but that soon fizzled out within a few months. So considering he was working 6 days a week and occupied the majority of the rooms in the house whilst living there rent and bill free, really the least he could do is help fix up the gaff, right?
When Dave left I took over getting mums shopping for her. She’d write a list and leave me the money and I’d go and get her bits, and if she needed anything or taking anywhere I was always the go to person, which I didn’t mind. She is my mum after all. It’s what you do, right?
In 2007 I got another sign of the man I was dealing with. The incident with him in Antigua and other incidents up until this time already had me watching him sideways and accumulated a few more lines on the chalkboard, but he was to open my eyes even further. Early one morning Dave got a call from Dale who informed him our mum wasn’t feeling well. She’d been up all night and he’d sat with her and made her a cup of tea but she wasn’t looking good and he had to go to work so…
I’ll just let that marinade with the fact that by this time our mother is 72 years old…
Naturally Dave told him to call a fucking ambulance and said he was making his way to the house. By the time he got there the ambulance had already arrived and as he walked in, Dale walked out and went to work.
Dave accompanied mum to the hospital where he called me from. By this time I was working at Next and had just got to work. He told me to stay there for now until they’d assessed her and he’d let me know as soon as there was any news. I called my sister and told her what had happened. She too, like the both of us, was disgusted at Dales behaviour. A little while later Dave called back to say it was a suspected heart attack. I left work, collected my sister and we made our way to the hospital.
Mum spent a week in Wexham Park before a further 2 weeks at Royal Brompton Hospital following double bypass surgery. Between the 3 of us we had every day she was in hospital covered. Dale didn’t visit her once, yet he could tell people on road how she was doing. KMT!
From that day forth I took over doing not just the food shopping, but drawing her pension and making sure all of her bills were paid on time. This is how I know for definite that he contributed jack shit towards the household apart from his own phone bill, although he was still running up her bill as her statements would show. Any appointments she had I took her to. Any item she wanted buying I’d get it for her.
She was never in any kind of debt and although she received housing benefit she was always in credit on the amount she was supposed to pay. I always gave her £60 cash each week which she’d tuck away and the rest was left in her account.
I can’t confirm it, but I believe he’d seen the signs of mums mental health decline pretty soon after it arose and knew it was the perfect time to conduct another part of his master plan. My intentions had been clear from the start. After all I was there for her as much as I possibly could be since after her heart surgery and it was NEVER raised as an issue.
There was no hint of me being accused of trying to rob her at that time because then it was just a case of several less jobs they had to do and he had nothing to gain. Now however, there was a window of opportunity.
The problem isn’t Dave and I having control of our mother’s finances. The problem is and always will be that I put a stop to him trying to bleed our mother dry.
R.I.P Ric Ocasek and to all those who have lost their lives this week.
Naturally when you put people on blast publicly you put yourself up for review too. With that in mind this part of the disclaimer is to address the clap back that I know is coming as it’s been thrown at me before.
I have no doubt that you will be told to ignore the things you will read because, ”I need to stop smoking all that dope because I’m fucked up in the head!”*
Let me set the record straight.
I have smoked cannabis since the age of 18. Eighteen. Government adult status; and anything I do or I’ve done as an adult I will own. It’s not something I shout from the rooftops, but it’s not something I hide either. If I’m asked I won’t lie. The most important people in my life know and so does my doctor so as far as I’m concerned, I’m good!
Supposedly it’s a gateway drug. I can testify that that is bullshit. No drug is a gateway to any other drug. If you have that type of addictive personality then that’s the way you’ll go. There ain’t no gate, just a way! Like most drugs there are various varieties and I wish more people would care to do their homework before chatting breeze!
There is a big difference between certain types of cannabis. I’m not about to give you a lecture (today!), but I will say that there’s a big difference between what I smoke and skunk; which seems to be the only one these people know. I don’t touch it or any other type that is chemically enhanced. I prefer it the way Mother Nature made it.
I always knew about the healing properties of cannabis but wasn’t that interested until I got diagnosed with cancer. Since then it hasn’t just been about the recreational side but the health side too. The big pharma companies are daylight robbers and the way the whole system works is corrupt from the core. Go through the effects of chemotherapy and the lasting side effects then come chat to me and tell me you wouldn’t want a natural, less harsh option. (Now You See Me (Part 4))
I can well believe that skunk and those types can lead to schizophrenia and other mental health issues. The few times I’d tried it in the past I got headaches and it didn’t take me long to put the two together. I’m not a masochist so it wasn’t a hard decision to stop smoking it.
I’ve heard people say there’s not enough research being done to justify legalising it yet. Why is that? Cancer Research have had billions in donations over decades. What’s the deal? Why only focus on the ‘cure’ that causes more damage? Like I didn’t already know.
If it was legalised and regulated they’d have less to worry about and they’d know what they were dealing with. Well, there may be no research on that chemically modified shit, but Rastafarian’s have been smoking for centuries and are some of the most easygoing and conscious people you could hope to meet. That’ll do for me.
The only other drug I have tried is half a trip back in ‘93. It was a trip I have never felt the need to go on again! I lived across the road from my godparents then and they were having a party. My friends and I walked in and it was pure jokes. There was a woman there and I swear she looked just like Bugs Bunny. We were in stitches…she on the other hand, must have thought we were nutcases.
Anyway I got home and went to bed but couldn’t quite concentrate on sleep as I was freaked the fuck out by the standby light on my tv. I remember weird and not so wonderful images floating around in a red haze! Coupled with constantly feeling like I was sliding down a slope, it was a restless night and an experience I’d decided (despite laughing hard at Bugs Bunny) that I would never repeat again and I haven’t since.
I don’t touch alcohol and never have. I believe it does more damage than natural cannabis ever will but I’m no expert. I’m just going on what I’ve witnessed for myself. But that’s ok! It doesn’t matter if you can knock back enough gin to sink the Titanic – it’s legal!
I’m not a dealer or ganja farmer. My loft holds nothing but suitcases, Christmas trees, years of shit and spiders, and my electricity bills will confirm there is not, nor has there ever been, a surge in usage. I have enough for my own personal use and that’s it. If there’s nothing about I don’t smoke, it’s as simple as that.
At no point have I ever begged, gone on a rampage, or had to sell my possessions, body or soul to feed my “habit”. I present myself well, can hold a decent conversation and hold down a job. It’s purely recreational and doesn’t interfere with my work life. I’m not working at the moment but when I do, if need be I have no trouble in stopping.
For me, it’s my equivalent of all the painkillers and Omeprazole they’d prefer me to take.🙄
Obviously I’m aware of the current legal status, and I’m guessing this is what my siblings are hoping will make me keep my mouth shut. Sorry to disappoint but it is what it is. Should I receive any comeback I’ll have to deal with it, but to be honest I’m tired of waiting for this cuntry to wake up and smell the ‘herbal’ tea!
*Those words were told to me by my sister. If anything has come close to fucking me up in the head I guarantee you it’s not the weed but the manoeuvres my siblings made. Again, I’ll leave y’all to be the judge of that!
R.I.P to all those who have lost their lives this week.
Praying for the Amazon and its indigenous people.
Wtf is wrong with mankind?