Victoria’s Victory Garden

I just got off the phone with a Trilliam Rep. I took a survey. I told her I am thinking about resigning from my family and not deal with our Present State of Being, or, Not Being, in my little sister’s case. Shannon threatened to come get me and take me to Bullhead City to see The Family Vegetable. And that’s how I would play it. I would walk into her room, and pat her shallow gray cheeks back and forth.

“And, how’s my little vegetable feeling today?”

When Vicki and I went to visit our father in the hospital, he told my sister they were thinking of cutting his leg off. Vicki was putting the flowers she bought in a vase. Captian Victim grumbled on, about how unfair everything was, and how he is being victimized by the medical profession. He was doing his usual loyalty check on his namesake. I watched Vicki fumble with Vic’s flowers with shaking hands. He was traumatizing her again. I had enough. I wanted to open the windows wide, move his bed over, and ‘Bon Voyage’. I had enough. I composed his epitaph. He was dead to me!

“If they cut your leg off, can I have it. I want to mount it on a plaque and hang it on my wall, with this line “Here is the leg that kicked my ass all my life, and, it kicketh no more!”

The fury in my father’s eyes was – supreme!

“How dare you insult me in fron of my my daughter!”

“Bullshit! Get off her case – now!”

The doctor came rushing in and asked what was going on.

“This is not just a case of diabetes, Its a case of alcoholism, and pathological mental illness!”

The doctor takes me into the hall.

“I know it is pathological. But, I owe it to my patient to protect him from abuse!”

This is twenty years before the Sopranos. A month later, Vicki took me on a hunt for Captain Victim who had gone bar hopping on crutches. His leg is in a cast. This is the same leg his good doctor worked so hard to save. Sucker!

“You just missed him. I think he’s heading for Piss on My Peg Leg Pete’s!”

Vicki was gritting her teeth and pursing her teeth as we jumped back into the car!

“Damn him! The doctor told him to stay off that leg – and not drink heavily!”

“How would you like to go to a AA meeting, and let Pops do what he is going to do? He’s a GROWN man!”

Vicki got it! She saw the light. She wasn’t Vic’s daughter – but his second mother! Melba refused to baby him, anymore. Her only child was playing Big Victim with a bum leg!

I gave Vicki the address, and she did a squealing U-turn. At the meeting she heard;

“Came to believe a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” Vicki never took another drink.

I told the trillium worker that I just realized I was both parents, grandparents, and brother to my siblings. Oh, and I was the Family Scapegoat – plus Family Healer! I suggested I was such to Vicki back in 1989, and she said;

“Hey! That’s my job! I’m the Mother Healer and Caretaker of our Coo-Coo Family!”

When I last saw Vicki at the Family Reunion, she was telling me why she turned out normal. Her older siblings protected her from our parents. The head of Serenity Lane said this;

“Has it occurred to you are the only Sane Member of your family?”

“Yes! But that title went to my Insane Brother, because he was the designation Family Hero, who in my opinion, is severely mentally ill.”

“I’m going to resign – and demand my brother and his son handle Vicki – from here on! ”

Mark and Cian resigned from the family – years ago! What did they resign from? They didn’t do anything to help anyone – but themselves! Sane family members don’t do this! They stick it out. They go visit Pops in prison, he due to go to the gas chamber for severing and freezing the heads of his victims. But, he is loved by all his family, who swear he didn’t do it! He had a bad hair day!

So, how did Vicki stay sane – she followed in my footsteps! How did Christine become a world famous artist? she followed in my footsteps. In 1974, Christine offered me a chance to BE Rosamond. She was still having a severe identity crisis two years after she took up art and became famous! She couldn’t handle it. She knew I was the only sane member of our family. I made a huge mistake by sanely turning her offer down. I could have helped her, relieved her of her high anxiety!

I worked in my garden yesterday, and took a deep look at The Garden Maiden I put flowers about. Is this Mother Mary? I thought about how sane and calm Rosemary was when she worked in her garden. I thought about dedicating this years garden to my mother, and, forgive her. That process began yesterday.

But, what about Vicki? I own proof she really screwed me over, did egregious things to hurt me. She never knew why I left home in January of 64. Rosemary caught Chrstine and Larry Sidle in bed, and was pulling hunks of hair out of her head. I rushed in, and shoved our mother in a closet. I quit my job at May Co. and hitched to New York. Christine wanted me to take her with me.

“Don’t leave me with the monster!” my beloved sister begged me. And she wept. Mark had fled back to Oakland. It was just Rosemary, Christine, and Vicky.

Victroria Mary Presco was born May 14, 1952. She is the youngest of the four Presco children. She was our delightful baby, born four years after Christine, almost as an afterthought. This was a special child who was happy to meet us all. She never complained. She was always hopeful. She was liken to a saint. She went off to Catholic school. We loved her dearly – I love her dearly! She is the Garden Saint in my vegetable garden. I dedicate my garden to my beloved vegetable, who would if she could, ask for my forgiveness. It is the sane thing to do!

Forgive me my beloved sister. I will never leave you with the monster!

Happy Birthday!

You were great, Vicki. We were great! We achieved greatness with no help from a parent. We created a new and wonderous life! May this truth forever shine! Thank you for your great contribution!

From this day forth, let it be known, Vicki was named after a queen.

John Gregory

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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1 Response to Victoria’s Victory Garden

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    I gave up my garden after the caretaker was murdered.

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