I am fifty years old. I really don't feel that old, but it is a fact. That makes me being born in 1961. August 30th and 31st are my birthday's. I have two because my Mama thought I was born on the 31st, but when I received a new birth certificate it had the 30th. It really does not matter, fifty years is still fifty years. What difference should a day make. I was raised during the time that men were held in much higher regard than most of them deserved. The women stayed home while the guys went to work and where ever the hell they wanted. Women, most of them knew that when the men didn't come home, what they were up to. This is what my grandmother referred to as, "it's a man's world." She was a prime example of a women was to do what was right to cover-up for her man's indiscretions. It did not matter to her if the other women was her daughter-in-law or even a child. "Don't let him", was the words I heard her use when she discovered that Granddaddy was trying to abuse a female. To her that would end the problem. Would it? How could something that evil end that easily? This is an assault that never goes away. It is taking something from an innocent soul, that can never be replaced.
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