Tiffany's Table Manners

This is a photo of my mother on the day she married a man she referred to as "door number one" with me, for as long as I can remember. She was proud of her eighteen-inch waistline then and remained attractive throughout her life. Clearly, in this photo she has not yet exhaled.

Mother was also homecoming queen of her day.

My father was Door #2. He was on the opposite side of the US map and never heard from again once Mother moved me away from him. Not directly, anyway. I never knew what his hand writing looked like. Ever.

She didn't JUST move me away. She dragged my 13 year old butt onto a Greyhound Bus in Miami, FL and we rode day and night until we got to Seattle, WA. The Greyhound stations then were barren. There typically was a ticket window, completely sketchy bathrooms and a vending machine or two. And that was it. I dropped my toothbrush on the floor of the Ladies Room in a station somewhere in Texas. Devastating.

In this photo you can see the fear in her smile. Maybe only I see it that way because those smile lines turn into frown lines with time. Frown lines likely from punishing herself. I have those now.

She was severely abused by her mother. Mentally. Grandmother's need for constant control, especially with regards as to how the Jones' perceived the family to be.

Probably the whole reason for the white dress in the first place.

One thing that was passed down to me with the utmost prerogative: Manners.

Not just please-and-thank-you manners. I was also taught American English by mother with an emphasis on Latin. Root meaning of words through Latin, I suppose. That has helped me throughout my life countless times.

Proper table manner's, poise and etiquette. Engaging with people. Although, I may be rusty now as I've been trapped in a beggars banquet for some time by Mr. Mulah. Now I have to coach myself into leaving the house at all on a daily basis.

I never had the chance to use those manners in public at dinner because Mr. Mulah NEVER took me out for dinner. Not at a restaurant and not one time.

This title in particular made me a target. Its irony, uncanny.