Devonne Brown

Mom and Dad were the loves of each other’s lives. They found each other during summers when Mom went to Clay county to visit her grandparents. Their love for each other never changed. Even after they divorced thirty-two years later after dad met and had an affair with CH, the most despicable woman I’d ever met. Dad made a mistake that Mom would have forgiven him for if CH hadn’t pushed him to leave. He admitted his weakness and said so many times over to us, his children, and Mom. Even to CH before he died.

CH and I never got along. She didn’t like me. She didn’t try to like me. I was a threat to her because I looked like Mom. I also had twins, his own grandsons she couldn’t compete with. She was always good to the boys, but went out of her way to be hateful to me, to undermine me. She let Dad babysit the boys after school until I got home from work for eight hundred dollars a month. They walked across the street from the school to their house where they wrestled and played like idiots. The three were inseparable. She was jealous.

Dad died ten years ago, when the boys were in high school. It was a sad day. We never saw CH again, but she continued to wreak havoc on our lives through Dad’s last will and testament. She didn’t like what he left us, we gave her an inch and she took a mile. 

One of the most liberating days of my life was two weeks ago when a Facebook notification popped up with her obituary. She’s gone forever. Our family breathes better.