My Mom

My Mother…… so many different ways to describe her. When I was younger, she was normal. But after our accident, she wasn’t my Mom anymore. She just changed… and I know this happens in a traumatic situation, but this was far from traumatic. But that will come later. When my Mom was pregnant with me, her doctors told her she should abort me because I could kill her. She obviously ignored them. Later they told her I would never walk and  would be a vegetable. Again, they were wrong. I was in the hospital for an extended amout of time when she had me because I wouldn’t gain weight. It turned out they had me on the wrong formula. I did have and always have had problems with my legs and knees. I had to wear special shoes like the ones in Forest Gump because my feet turned in. Ive seen a few pictures of me wearing them. I didn’t look too happy about either lol. My Mom never let me forget that she didn’t abort me even when the doctors told her to. Whenever I was being bad or just plain nasty she would bring that up then say, “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you.” For then first few hundred times she said that, her guilty trip worked. But as I got older, I became numb to it. After all, you can only play the same mind games over and over before it stops bothering a person. Growing up I know my Mom kept a very neat and tidy house. She cooked dinner but I can’t remember eating dinner with my family until after the divorce. I’ve always wondered why I have very few memories of my childhood before the divorce. I was only 6 when they filed for divorce so maybe I was too young to retain any? There was one time my Grandparents were staying with us and my parents were gone, I assume to work, and I clearly see a dark green plastic cup stuffed into one of my Mom’s high heels. It was the funniest thing, my brother and I laughed a long time about that! When we would go to church, she would put me in cute frilly dresses with shiny dress shoes and put up my hair. I hated dressing up (still do to some degree even now) but she desperately wanted little girl she could dress up and put ribbons in her hair. I guess that was a disappointment for her since I’d rather be in jeans and a tshirt glued to my Daddy’s side. Later on, she had my sister and  she dressed her up and made her all girlie. Better her than me tho. When we were in Church, we were expected to be quiet and behave thru the sermon. Dad was a Deacon and Mom was in the choir. I would draw the entire sermon but I’m pretty sure I was good. Sunday lunch was usually a big deal. I’m pretty sure we ate at my Grandma and Papa’s house. It was usually country fried steak, mashed potatoes, corn and other sides. I know I would go to choir practice with my Mom….one time I was climbing over the pews on the left side and fell face first between the pews, serves me right for doing that anyhow! I know for a fact that my Mom worked at place called Cerami Corner. They made ceramics there, this is where she met Phillip, my Step-Dad and soon to be baby sister’s Dad. From what I was told she started seeing him way before the divorce. Phil was the main reason they divorced but, again that is what I have been told. Mom would bring him to our house and go into what was the room my parents shared. With my room being across from theirs, I could hear them. I may have been young, but I wasn’t dumb, I knew what was going on and it made me so mad! They would try to sneak out of the bedroom hours later their clothes and hair a mess. I was usually in my bedroom, so I always noticed how weird it was that their lips were blue and purple. to this day, even as an adult, I haven’t figured that out. Things were never the same after the divorce naturally.

I didn’t get to be in my Mom’s wedding to Phil. In a way, my little sister was, she was pregnant with her. (Although, I cant say anything, I was pregnant the first time I was married)They took off to Indiana and got married there I think. I’ve seen pictures of the wedding but don’t remember it. I do however remember being here when they renewed their vows. All 3 of us were there as well as friends and a little family. It was in our backyard. It was beautiful. The theme was medieval times because they were so into that back then. Long colorful dresses, bright, huge flowers, and my Mom walked under a canopy  of swords. I know this sounds weird but it was beautiful… guess you had to be there to appreciate it.

I think that’s the last time I remember being happy or part of my family. I was the weird one,the one they blamed for everything even when it obviously wasn’t me that did it. My little sister litterally scrached MY NAME into the passanger side of the car. I was blamed for it even tho it was clearly her hand writing not to mention,she put a period after my name….she always did that when she wrote names. I know  that as a kid growing up most kids at some point think life sucks and that their parents hate them,but it went on until I moved out. There are so many stories…I will save them for later tho.

My Mom….she showed me how to stand on my own and how not to depend on a man. And that’s not because she lived that way. She was quite the opposite. She always had to have a man to take care of her…to pay her way. She is not like that now..my ways have rubbbed off on her I guess. I love her as much as my Dad, but I’ve learned I can’t be like her. I don’t want to be alone later in life with no real way of taking care of myself and depending on my kids to save me. I  miss my old Mom..the happy woman whonever left the house without doing her hair and makeup. The woman that dressed in purple and always smelled so good. I don’t know the woman that’s in my Mom’s body now.  No matter how she is I will always love her.

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My Daddy

For as long as I can remember I’ve been a Daddy’s Girl. I have always looked to my Dad for advise , support and love. He made mistakes when he and my Mom were together like we all do. But despite all he did, he was a great Dad and a hard worker. I don’t have many memories of Mom & Dad being together….most of them are when he was single and after he met my Step-Mom. I clearly remember our house. It was in a quiet Mayberry type setting near the park. It was a big yellow house with a concrete front porch and a huge wooden deck to the right which is where we walked into the house each day. From the door was the kitchen, to the left was the living room, as soon as the kitchen ended and the hallway started, was the basement door, down the hall on the right was my brothers room then my room…… on the left was the bathroom and my parents room and between my room and my parents  room was the linen closet and above it was the attic. I remember I would sit in my window sill with little farm animals tied to a pieces of string and try to lower them down to the ground. I dont think I ever got that far because my room was over the basement so I was technically on the second story of our home.  Looking back now, I can’t believe I never fell out of the window. My Dad had a drinking problem  back then (so my Mom says)! but he always went to work on time and we never really saw him drunk.   He was known to pass out on the couch on Sundays after church while watching NASCAR but I always thought it was because  he worked so hard. I dont remember my Mom working very much when in was a kid. I do remember staying with a babysitter…. Mrs. Culbreth so I know she had to work. Mrs. Culbreth was a sweet old lady but she was strict. She had a beautiful white house with wood floors that creaked when I would run across them. The other child she kept was named Miles. We were best friends back then. He gave me a Barbie for my birthday one year and kissed me on the cheek…. my family picked on me for years that he was my first kiss. Anyhow, my Daddy and Papa opened a garage when my Dad was in high school. They had a tow truck and a 2 bay garage I think. I know he had a pit in the garage  (which is now illegal) instead of a lift. The hole was huge and had a tiny ladder leading down to it.  I always wanted to go in there and help work on cars but they wouldn’t let me so I played with the shop kitties and discarded parts outside  When my parents were together, we would go out to Saturday  night dinner and church on Sundays. We went to Sunday school then service.  Dad was a Deacon and always helped take the tithe each week. He always dressed up and would shave before going to church. I would sit on the toilet and watch him carefully shave. I loved the smell of his aftershave, it was green an had a little black and white French looking man on it. It smelled so good. One of my favorite memories is when he woke me up for school one morning and I went to the bathroom and went to lay my head on the toilet seat like always and I watch my Dad shave…..only this time the seat wasn’t down and I almost went in face first. Luckily,my Dad grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me up right before I hit the water!  We still laugh about that today. I remember one time in the summer,we were out on the deck making homemade ice cream,we were all outside enjoying the weather. My mom yelled out to my Dad to cut my nails from inside, and he did, but he cut them too short so I cried a little. My Mom flipped out and started yelling at my Dad saying he always cuts them too short.. He never cut my nails again. It seems so small of a thing but I felt so bad for my Dad because  I cried.

I dont remember much more than that when my parents were together. The majority of my memories  are like I said, after they split up. When my Dad was single, he lived in a strange apartment. It was on the first floor had a wall heater in the hall way and  smelled funny. Dad didn’t have much in that tiny apartment ,he had a hide a way couch that Dad, me and my brother slept on. It was always warm and comfy there. He fixed salmon stew all the time and I loved it with ketchup in it. Then my Dad moved into a house on a hill. I remember riding my big powerwheel down the hill all the time.  It was so cool, it came from a vendor where we worked as a Manager. It was at a grocery store called Community Cash. The big wheel was green, gray and red I think. It had a tall, big hard plastic tire and two fat ones  in the back. The seat was removable and would adjust to 3 different positions. I think the logo on it was Colgate toothpaste? I would drag it to the top of thenhill beside my Dads house and the neighbor’s  house and just fly down that hill. It was such a rush…. the sound of the bike flying down the hill, the hot wind in my face blowing my blonde hair back then the rush of hitting pavement and whipping my big wheel around  to face the hill. It was so much fun! Dad’s neighbor hated it so I only did it when they were gone. One time I decided to “cook” him something . He was watching TV so is grabbed a bowl, flung open the fridge and put in every condiment I could find in the bowl. I was so proud of myself….. my Dad… not so much. He yelled at me for wasting food. I was in my bedroom when he found my masterpiece….. he naturally yelled at me, but the strange thing is….I don’t remember what he said or how long it lasted, but what I DO remember is how far away and small he seemed to me.  Small as in short, almost midget size. Like I said, strange!

For years Dad worked at Community Cash, and that’s where he met my sweet Step-Mom. She was he bookkeeper there. She lived pretty far from Landrum, so I say fate was a major player in them getting together. I’ve never asked exactly how they met there but I’m guessing since he was a Manager, and she was Head Bookkeeper, they got to know each other at night after closing.  I can just see my Daddy being all nervous asking her out for their first date. Maybe I will ask them one day. When Dad met Marji I was so happy. She was so sweet to me and was the caring, loving mother figure I needed.  She made the BEST  spaghetti ever! I loved it when she cooked. Don’t get me wrong, Dad could cook (he still grills the best burgers I’ve ever had to this day!) but somehow, her food tasted so good. She had 4 boys and for her to take on 2 more kids after finally getting her 4 out of the house and living on their on was an amazing thing to do. I didn’t realize it when, but it showed my Dad how much she truly loved him in my opinion. The day they got married, my brother and I were suppose to be in their wedding, but Dad said my Mom hid us and wouldn’t answer the house phone….. so we missed it. And honestly, that sounds about right. My Mom was always keeping us from my Dad and Marji for any stupid thing she could think up. As a parent now, I can only imagine the emotions my Dad felt that day… Anger, sadness, disappointment, happiness. I wonder why she would do such a nasty thing? To get back at my Dad for getting married? He didn’t do that to her when she remarried. Despite all the things my Mom did, Dad never really talked bad about her. He would talk to us about her but it was rare that it was bad. It was mostly just helping us understand her.

There are so many memories I have with them… too many to put down here, maybe in another post. But I know my Dad did the best he could for me and my brother when we were growing up and he still does now. My Dad is the best man I’ve ever known… or ever will know as far as I’m concerned. He always has been and always will be the worlds best Dad, the best man, the best everything!

There’s a First Time For Everything.

I’ve always heard there’s a first time for everything….. and that is true. Just like there’s a reason that everything happens.  This is the first blog I have ever attempted and the first time I’ve actually decided to try to find the part of me that I have lost somewhere in life. I’m not sure what I’ve lost along the way or when it was…..I just know that I still feel incomplete.  By incomplete I don’t mean its because of who is or is not in my life….. its more of trying to find myself. And I think the only way to truly find myself is to try to remember my life as I know it.  Be it right, wrong or what have you….. its how I remember it.  I’m sure i will have dates and specifics wrong but its what I remember. Maybe by facing my past as much as I dread it and try not to will bring Me peace with myself so I can accept myself as who and what I am now.  Not for who And what I told I was so long ago. I’m always hard on myself because  I don’t want to see that I have become what so many people have told me I would be. I’m terrified of letting my kids down and not being the mother I want to be for them. And I’m just as terrified of letting down my fiancé by not being the loving, supportive positive woman he needs me to be.  Every day I fell as if its a challenge to get out of bed and leave the house unless its for work because I know that if I go to work, I have served a purpose for that day. I feel accomplished! I don’t even get excited to go shopping which every woman loves! I’ve always considered myself a tomboy of sorts because hated dressing up and loved to learn about working on cars. Id rather learn how to restore a car than go shopping. This is something that I  swear is in my blood….. my Dad would take me to his and my Papas shop on the weekend and I have so many cool memories from being there….. but those will come later on. I know I’m more than what I’ve been told I am…. more than what…. who I am now. Like everyone  in this great big world I love praise you know, being recognized for doing a good job, working hard, looking nice or whatever. I honestly  can’t  remember many positive comments from my family….. except for my Daddy and Step-Mom. It was like a different world when I visited them. But again that comes later. So with all this being said, it time to start my journey.  I hope I find what I so desperately feel I need that I can’t find. The sadness and ache never stops or lessens. And again in case by some small chance my family or friends do read this please know its nothing you have or haven’t  done. This is my own journey that I have put myself on. Please let me continue what I’m  doing so I can be a better, happier me..and if anyone does decide to join me on this epic event I cant promise entertainment…..but I can guarantee I  will ramble more than a few times and completely confuse you before its all said and done!