The Writers Voice
Not Far From The Tree
I've been on this Greyhound bus for over 9 hours and I still had 12 to go. The guy sitting next to me smelled like cheap cologne and every 2 minutes he would make this disgusting gurgling sound in the back of his throat. I knew I should've flown to Alabama but, I felt like the bus ride would prepare me for the series of events that were about to take place.
I left Alabama for New York 7 years ago fresh out of Douglasville high school in Bayminette. I said the only way that I would return to Bayminette was if my mama died. Well my mama aint dead yet but she called me 3 days ago and told me that my no good daddy Reverend Melvin K. Landry Sr. had been diagnosed with lung cancer and he did not have much longer to live. Surprisingly his dying request was to have all of his children present during his final days. That was funny considering it was him who cut us all off.
It is no secret I hate my father I don't hide it he's known it since the day I was able to talk. Lets not get it twisted I am not his cup of tea either. First of all I was never supposed to be born. I was conceived when my mother was 36 years old 6 years after my sister Octavia Marissa Landry was born. They already had 4 children my daddy did not want another mouth to feed but after he got over the initial shock of mama being pregnant he was hoping for another son since he had already had 3 daughters. Surprise! Surprise! I was born a healthy 8 lb baby girl. I made my entrance into this world on a hot summer day August 6, 1979. Stamped Shalimar Denise Landry.
To be Continued
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