When Family Ties Cross the Line: A Forbidden Encounter with My Mother I was 18 when it happened...just the one time, but the memory of it will stay with me a lifetime... My mother was, and is, what you would call a functioning alcoholic. On most days, she would be fine, taking care of my brother and me in the morning, going to work a full day and come home to her wine in the evening. She managed to put away one of those gallon jugs every evening (one of the cheaper brands) before toddling off to bed. My dad worried about her sometimes, but it never seemed to interfere with her work...and my brother and I grew into fine, upstanding men, with a good work ethic and independence. I should tell you that, growing up, my mother was a fox. Thin but curvy, with a mane of fiery, red hair. Of course, I never saw her as anything but a mom. Being the disciplinarian of the family, she had a glare, when she was angry, that could stop a rabid dog in his tracks. There were, however, a few times I noticed her shapely legs in jean cutoffs and the way her nipples poked through her t-shirt when she was chewing me out for misbehavior. My dad was a professional photographer, taking freelance assignments all over the country. Often, he would have to leave at a moments' notice, leaving us boys to fend for ourselves, while Mom worked. At 18, I got my first real job, having decided against college. Working at a major hotel, I was making great money and decided it was time to leave the nest. I found my own apartment a few miles away from home. My dad seemed proud of me, as he helped me move into my new place. My mother, on the other hand, seemed sad to see me go. She put on a brave smile as she toured my new digs but I could see she was having a hard time letting go of her eldest son. As I hugged them both, I assured my mom that I would still be close if she needed me. It seemed to help a little. I phoned my folks every weekend, talking mostly to Mom. I began to notice that her speech was getting more and more slurred. She would laugh or cry at nothing and tell me how much she missed her baby boy. Speaking to Dad once, while my mom was out of the room, I asked him if Mom was alright. …the next moment changed everything
