Having this edetic memory ability isn’t all it’s cracked up to be… I know of a very high functioning person who can remember every second of every day of her life and it didn’t scare her or freak her, she learned to use it to her advantage…

I wasn’t as lucky with my ability…

I was born self aware with critical thinking and edetic memory and I could do as the lady I mentioned… Only difference, I lived in a house with mental illness and that mental illness had a name, Freda (mom)…

There wasn’t anything that went on around me, I wasn’t aware of and remembered every detail…

It wasn’t something I talked about, I learned very young, I had no friends or family living in that household, I was on my own, just like I am today…

My birth family only knows what lies Freda fed them and for me, that’s my advantage…

I am not a christian, I believe in science… They believe in lies… and Fox news😵‍💫

What got me to thinking this morning as I watch Trump and the moving of propaganda and rhetoric he and his cult push, remind me of what Freda did…

Absolutely no different, except, my parents didn’t rape us kids in the physical form, they did it in the psychological form…

Rape would play into the family saga, but not by the parents…

So why the write???

I was remembering, recalling memories from my early childhood… Memories that have always been there, ready for me to look at, when ever the want is there and this morning I realized, I was the only one that would know or remember… Why???

Because my older half brother was in my brother’s dad’s custody… Freda lost custody and he only came to see us on summer vacations and that is why I have so very few memories of him…

(He died by suicide, refusing cancer treatment because of our mother, see early blog)… 2 years ago this month he passed… and I only have a couple memories of him…

What does any of this mean???

Don didn’t behave violently until after the softball knocked him out cold at Gunter AFB and it’s in his military medical records that the government has on file and we can go back to that night game and I can start to tell you at 8 years old, how my dad became Frankenstein and my mother was the master manipulator and controller…

Before the blow to his head, my dad was loving and caring and he wasn’t violent…

He never hit me until that night in Big Springs, Texas, 5 years later and I died at his hands…

Don’s brain started changing within weeks of that blow to his head, it was that summer when we drove to Bonita from Montgomery and Don had worked his military shift and night job and we got on the road to go see granny… (See midnight drive blog)…

I remember sleeping on the picnic table and waking to the motion of the car and we were driving down the road back in 62, Freda pregnant, David a toddler and Pegs only 6 and I think Larry was with us…

Freda and the little ones slept in the car and dad and Larry and I took the picnic table and the next thing, we are drivng at midnight and that would be my first taste of Don’s sundowner’s that would go on to be the precursor to his death with dementia complicated by agent organge…

I remember Don was kind and gentle and not violent, nor was he in the habit of inciting violence… That all changed after that blow to his head…

I wrote that us kids all knew, well, we knew as they grew up, but they never saw Don any other way, because they were all to young to remember…

All of them except Larry and I and Larry was only around during the summer, so he didn’t get much exposure till that night in Big Springs, when we both got beat to death…

Don changed… 1962 was the start of the most horrific life I can tell you about… It wasn’t sexual in anyway, only violent and that lives on today in some households, because they worship a god……

Don’s violence reared it’s head within a year after that blow to the head and the Air Force did everything they could to bury the truth and I died twice at those people’s hands…

Don was easily manipulated, but intelligent enough to know he had some control, but not smart enough to figure out what was happening to him and that was obvious when mom left him while I was on Japan in the 80’s… She had control and she knew…

Freda was a very smart person, she was not tech savvy or intellectual on levels like me, but she had street smarts and she knew how to manipulate…

She did it to get what she wanted and only what she wanted… There was a lot of nuances to her…

Don’s dementia started in his 30’s… He died with half his brain turning to mush and trusting the one person he loved more than anything on this earth…

It didn’t turn out well for his death watch and it didn’t turn out well for Freda’s…

Realizing I was at ground zero with Don’s dementia and watching as Homer’s dementia consumes him… Manipulation is easy to do if that’s your goal in life…

I was able to see the real Don Bagwell and I get to remember what none of the others will ever have…

I got the good side of my dad, I got a couple of real, sweet, honest, loving memories… from my dad…

I can never say the same for my mother… or siblings, except Larry…

I remember and my siblings will never ever know the truth, because that truth goes against their narrative that was controled by Freda, our mother… (sounds like Trump??) and Fox news and the bible of hate???

I remember…

copyright protected 2026 all rights reserved©️