So to continue the story right after my husband’s funeral I left town with my friend and we headed to the United States to decompress and deal with my loss. She and I spent the next few months on the beaches working to pay for our hotel and food by working in the strip clubs , I was also very successful at wet T-shirt contests, And would often walk away with a couple hundred American during those contests.
My friend and I did not do a lot of drugs in those days, but we certainly took the opportunity to try some of the cool new substances that were available to us in the states. We saw some great Concerts, partied on yachts, my girlfriend met Billy Idol at a party ( she loved punk rock ) I bet she could still talk about the excitement of that night.
We found some lucrative ways to make money and we seemed to he very very lucky at the racetracks ( ok so maybe some race horse owners paid me to place some bets) . So by being frugal and working for what we needed as we went, we survived and thrived
I was 19 now, single and just trying to live. It was time for us to return to Canada but I could not return to my city. I didn’t know what was going to happen with my husband’s murder trial and with me having to testify against the people involved. So I moved to a different province
I actually moved into the home of my first foster mother from when I was first removed from my fathers home.
She had left the province where we met and went home to where she came from originally because her mother was getting older and she wanted to be close by.
She and I talked often and kept in contact throughout the years. She was one of those people who loved me unconditionally, she was a mentor and a real mother to me and a the best grandmother to my oldest son. When I needed a safe haven her door was always open!!
Even though I ran away from her home she always understood. She never had any children of her own and she did ask if I wanted to be adopted at one point. I would’ve loved to of been her daughter, but I felt that it was important to keep my family name. I
guess I really felt that my name was the only thing that was really mine. And I wasn’t ready to give that up at that point in time. But in every other sense of the word she was my mother and to my son his grandmother I didn’t need a piece of paper to tell me that.
Now I was still working in the clubs i’m travelling all over Canada with my girlfriend and we continue to do that until I discovered that I was expecting my first child. His dad and I had been dating for several months and I was very excited about this new little bean that I was about to have,
I quit dancing and started working at any type of job I could find in order to buy a crib and all the necessities I needed for the baby. My partner wasn’t really ready to be a parent at that point in time and I really didn’t need him to be a partner just because I was expecting. So in my usual what will be will be attitude I made a plan, I would have this baby
I never received a cent of child support or assistance from his father and really didn’t need it. Once my son was old enough to go to daycare 3 months I enrolled in school where I went during the day, and worked as a waitress only during the evenings. Life was good!!