The other Millers

So I had this memory today about The Millers. I was a Miller but these were other, non-related Millers. At 12 my parents got divorced and I chose to live with my Dad. My mother wasn’t too happy and moved out of our house leaving me for my Dad to come and get. He was an OTR truck driver at the time so it was a couple of days. She also left all of my belongings, childhood things, etc in the house but they were in the attic so I didn’t know. I can’t recall how I got to my Dad but I did eventually. The time frames for these events are a mystery like much of my childhood but at some point he bought a trailer in Enon and we lived there. My step mother was only 12 years older than I was and didn’t want me there at all. At some point she gave my Dad the “either she goes or I go” and I went. At the time, my mother still wasn’t talking to me so that wasn’t an option. I had been going to school there and had met a girl with the same last name on the bus. Not a friend because I didn’t see the point of making those. She was kind but I only knew her a a week or maybe up to a month on the bus.

She lived in the boonies up the road from the trailer park. She told her parents and they took me in. The school didn’t know, no-one really knew. Since we had the same last name no one questioned them signing my papers or what not. I don’t know how long I stayed there but the kept me and fed me. They seemed nice enough but for a 12-13 year old, even one overly exposed to adult issues like myself, it was uncomfortable. I’m not sure if I went straight to my sister’s in Canada from there or if I eventually went to live with my mother or how long anything took but it’s a weird spot in my life that I’m not sure how to feel about. Sometimes I think about how lucky I am that someone took me in. Others it reminds me how disposable my family has always treated me. Mostly it’s indicative of when the being “on my own” started. This was the point where my life became transient. I never stayed anywhere for longer than 6 months until I moved to Welland, Ontario. 12 is too young to not have stability or structure. Most people don’t know what a shock it is that I’m still kicking around. It’s also a miracle I had any parenting instincts at all. Life is weird.