I had to write this column.Tomorrow in Mothers Day.Motjhers Day is a day where we honor our mother and all hard working women everywhere and it is one day that I celebrate even tho I am not a mother.My mother died on 6/17/2003.She was 84 and in a nursing home.My mother and i died and when she did she died with a chip on her shoulder.My mother began to verbally abuse me out of jealousy when I turned 15 in 1962.She couldnt accept the fact that I was different then her and I am different because I suffer from a mental disorder that isnt her fault.Bi Polar Mania 2 is something I was diagnosed with in 2009.It ended years of mood swings and ill rational behaviour and during all this time I worked and did a full days work because work is what helps me and when I get depressed at work..it had nothing to do with the job..it was my mother.My mother never talked much,but when she did it was sheer nonsense.And I learned that she lied to me on several occasions about my late uncle.My late uncle in the 1920s had a speech problem.But he liked to read and supported my grandfather and grandmother.It was different back then.He was 17 and supporting 6 people.This isnt done today because we have social services but back in 1933 they had squat.Robert got the best marks.He got all A and Bs and every one loved him....but Robert could not talk right and was made fun of me and back then.....things were different.There was no Internet.There was no special groups in regard to bullies.So Robert had to fend for himself at 17 and being the "man of the house" I can imagine his pressure.I never met Robert.All I saw was his picture.He was a very handsome boy.He has dark hair and eyes.Robert began to steal books from the library and back then this was a no no.One day Robert was with a friend and stole books from the library.Someone saw him and he began to run and run.Robert saw this car on the street.He and his friend stole the car because he didnt want to be confronted by the local sheriff...and things were different then.There was no miranda rights.It was one of violence and cruelty.A patrolman who was off duty saw Robert driving the car.Robert was driving erractilcaly and the policeman began to chase him.I dont know if this guy had a car but it was a small town where everyone knew one another and they knew my grandfather and from what I have read about my maternal grandfather,he was no prize.Robert pulled the car over the side of the road and shut the door.The patrolman told him to stoop.Robert began to run and in his flight he hid the books that he stole in his pants.And Robert began to run.The patrol man had a gun and told Robert to stop.Robert turned around.He stopped.And he was reaching for the books in his pants.The policeman didnt think twice.He fired two shots.My uncle Robert fell to the ground and died on the street like a caged animal.They came to tell my grandfather that night and my grandfather was one spit fire.He was an editor for the Brooklyn Graphic.And he began to dig.My grandfather was underfire because he went to see the Lindbergh kidnapping trial and for some reason...he believed that Hauptman was innocent and this wasnt a popular view back then because Lindbergh was to the American people like President Kennedy was to the 1960s generation.My mother cried when she heard about robert and i had to write this story you see my uncles death changed her and the whole family.Back then things were different.Robert is buried in Brooklyn New York next to my grandparents and i dont know where.But everytime you hear of a gun homicide remember the story of my uncle robert and how my mother never got over it and even tho I never met Robert or seen him or talked to him.his death effects me till this day.My grandmother was never the same after this day.My maternal grandmother shriveled up and died.SHe became an old woman and died at 62.In 1947 5 months before I was born.Then My grandfather died in 1947...he was 65 and he never got to hold me or buy any presents but all I know he was exctied that it was going to be a girl.SO remember this when you have problems with your mother remember my story and remember this your mother loves you no matter what has happened.ANd so I will leave you.vader.