At my son’s nod, I closed my eyes and then hit the morphine pump.
And slipped into oblivion.
***
The day I was released from the hospital, I called Clutch.
To say he was bummed out would be an understatement, but he got it.
He got the man I was.
My kids came first.
I hung up my wraps, my belts, my robe, and traded in the title of Heavy Weight Champion of the World for the single most important title of my life... Dad.
But another title would be added to that... byher.
‘It shouldn’t hurt to be a child.’
– Jan Hunt.
Prologue II
Lila
I was eight years old when I made a vow that I wouldn’t end up with a man like my father.
For instance.
Mama had told him that the dishwasher had quit working.
He had disconnected everything and pulled it out of the house.
And instead of buying her a new one so it would be easier on her, he made that his alcohol corner.
A few weeks go by, and there’s a smell in the house.
Dad kept asking what it was.
But mom had tried everything to get rid of the smell.
However, one night, she started to investigate.
And that was when she found it.
Water.
Pooled underneath the sink, all in the cabinets, and the smell was horrendous.
Then he came into the house and started complaining about the smell again.
She showed him where the line was disconnected.
And my mama had just gotten done working a double at the diner, had told him that if he cared more about us than his alcohol, he wouldn’t have missed it.
And he had the audacity to slap her.
Another instance.
