Spahne J. Jenkins
24 February 2010
Divorce and Children:
And Then There Were Three….
Waking up to the smell of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, feels like I won the lottery to a nine-year old kid. My father surprised my younger brother, Jeremy and I with doughnuts for breakfast at least once a week. My father was a plant worker, so he was at home before we went to school. Although mother wasn’t happy about us eating so much sugar in the morning, father would say, “Leave them boys alone. Let them eat.” My mom was a school teacher, so she always had to follow the rules. Everyday Mom and Dad would kiss when they came home from work. It seemed like everything was perfect.
My father had me playing basketball at the age of four-years old. Sometimes I hated basketball because I wanted to watch television instead. Once my father was no longer at the house, I lost interest in playing basketball. I still believe if my father were in the house throughout school, I could have made it in the N.B.A. simply because of my father’s determination. I also remember my dad taken Jeremy and I fishing in a boat. We weren’t good fisherman, but my father made us learn how to fish anyway. He would always say, “I can teach you how to fish, but I’m not going to catch the fish for you.”
My father believed in teaching us how to do things around the house. I remember Jeremy and I having to practice changing the bathroom door handle. We were upset because the door handle worked just fine. Dad would say, “You never know when you might have to change handles at your own house one day. Jeremy whispered, “One day is a long time from now.” My father would ask, “What did you say boy?” and his legs would shake like a leaf on a tree in the winter. Jeremy would reply, “I didn’t say anything.” He was scared at this time because my father was a bible reader; he believed thou shall not spare the rod.
Before making my tenth birthday in December, my father came home...