It's that day again...

She arrived as she did every Sunday.  Her waist long hair was curled and the dress she wore made everyone forget the Tom boy that loved to play in the dirt and the mud.  Her black patent shoes clicked on the sidewalk and when she reached the steps they were too wide for her little legs so she had to take two steps to get each one.  A happy little girl with big blue eyes accentuated by her dark hair.  When she smiled her dimples were so large they took up all of her delicate cheeks.  Today the smile wasn't as big and her bounce was all but gone, because this day was hard for her.  She was only five years old and she had never met her father.  In all honesty she had met him, but she was only a year old when he left and she could not find one memory of him no matter how hard she tried.  This year was a little harder than those that had passed before.  This year she had finally understood what “adopted” meant.  She loved being adopted.  It made her more special than anyone else because she was hand-picked by her parents and they loved her even more.  She believed this to be true of her Mommie who was always there, but where was her dad? The new understanding that there was another Daddy out there who she had never met. Made her wonder why they didn't love her almost everyday but today was harder than most, because it was Father's Day.

The steps to the church seemed wider today and her footsteps became heavier as she came closer to the glass doors. She knew inside would be little girls of all ages with their Daddies.  A hard reminder that she had no one to celebrate.  She turned the deepest green on this day when she watched others celebrate the men in their lives.  When she finally reached the top of the steps the glass door swung open wide.  She was greeted by one of the men in the church.  He greeted her with a warm smile and a big hug.  He told her how pretty she was and then reached in his pocket and pulled out a quarter.  He told her that her name was written on that quarter and she needed to look hard to find it.  She studied it hard as she walked away hoping to find her name.  She was still amazed that he had found a quarter every week with her name on it, even though she could never find it.  As she continued towards the foyer another man greeted her in the same way.  Telling her she was prettier today than she ever had been before and giving her a big hug. The greetings continued as she traveled through the foyer each one expressing love and hugs.  The little girl’s smile grew with each hug and the hole left by her absent fathers filled with the love expressed to her by each man in the church. They all knew her story, so they went out of their way to let this little girl know that it all men left.  They let her know a thousand different ways that she was loved.  The Sunday School lesson and the sermon topics were about fathers. As she listened to the sermon she gazed around the sanctuary at each man who loved her. Her gazed stopped at the stain glass circle at the front of the church.  As she stared into the eyes of Jesus she knew in her heart she had a daddy in heaven that loved her.  Even though she was only five years old she felt that love because of each man in the church showered her with unconditional love all the time.  As she left the church she skipped down the steps full of the joy from those who loved her.

My brother

Some of my favorite memories are of my brother. When I was little I wanted to be him. I would dress like him and I remember when a friend of his called to me from across the street because he thought I was my brother. It made me so happy. I looked up to him. My mom said that when they brought me home from the adoption agency they told him that I was his. From that moment he protected and looked out after me.
When we lived in our fifth house we had the best relationship. He was a freshman in high school and I was in sixth grade. We both had chores that had to get done and we found a way to help each other out. Two memories stand out.
The first was that he would bring his football buddies over after practice and before the game on Fridays. They would play ping pong in the garage and hang out. I played hostess to this group and made homemade cookies and milk and lemonade for them. Mark was always thankful that I treated his friends so nicely and didn't bug them like most little sisters would have.
The other memory I have is my 13th birthday party. Having a birthday on New Years is difficult for a kid because most parties are not about them. My 13th party was different. I had a slumber party with a bunch of friends from church. My brother and his friends were a couple years older and they put on a concert for us. Back in the day of 8 track tapes and air guitars these two boys practiced their electric guitars to some fun rock music. They set up their amps in the living room and turned off the lights. Us girls got our flashlights and waved them around as the played and sang. My friends were amazed an swooned over the two "rock-stars"! It was amazing!! It didn't hurt that my brother and his friend were considered hot in the eyes of every female in the room. It was so much fun and memory that is etched in my heart.
He also always looked out for me. One day I was walking my dog at the high school and a bully came and took my dog. I came home crying and my brother pushed me aside and went after the bully. A few minutes later my dog came home an awhile after that.so did my brother. I wanted to know what happened, but all he said was "I took care of it.". I found out later that he held the kid against the wall and told him that nobody messes with his little sister. Everyone in our time knew not to mess with me, my brother was always on the lookout and took care of me.
My brother and I have been through many things over the years and we have made choices that drove us apart. But I will always love my big brother. He was always good to me growing up no matter how many arguments we have had or may have in the future. He is a great guy!

Dads Visits

If you remember the last time I saw my dad he asked for a rain check after I had made him a birthday dinner. I had just turned 8 years old.
When I was 10 almost 11 at Christmas Dad showed up bearing gifts. I was so excited. We were still living with Granny and she met him on the walk. She didn't let him in the house but I was just thrilled to see him even if it was through the screen door. My brother was not as thrilled and immediately left to call my mom.
Now for this of you who are younger. My brother had to leave the front door and go into the kitchen to call my mom. Our phones were attached to the wall or the desk. They also had "dials" on them. We actually dialed the number one at a time, it was quite time consuming. My mother did not live long enough to even see a cell phone. This still amazes me at how much technology had progressed in my lifetime since I am currently typing this blog into my phone.
But I digress my brother quickly disappeared and I knew he had went to call her. Mom didn't work far away and was at the curb in what seemed like seconds. From the moment she stepped out of the car she was yelling at him and he was yelling back. I quickly closed the door and went to my room. I was mad at my brother for calling my mom which ended up with my dad leaving. He left Christmas presents for us. They were not age appropriate but my mom defended him as we were returning the gifts explaining that he didn't know what we liked but at least he tried. I just wondered if I would ever are him again.
It was a over a year later when he came again the details are fuzzy and soon you will see why. This time he called first. He asked my mom if he could visit and she asked us of we wanted to see him. I of course was thrilled at the idea and to my surprise my brother agreed. Of course with his little sister bouncing around excited to see her "daddy" I guess he felt he couldn't say no. The date was set for the following week and tensions were high in the house. My mom and brother were fighting constantly about what I don't remember. I do remember my mom slamming kitchen cupboards and telling my brother if he didn't like it here he could live with his dad, and my brother storming out of the room saying maybe I will! Now even though I wasn't very old I knew both of them well enough that they would never carry through on these threats. My brother and I didn't even know our dad and neither one of us would ever want to live with him. I can honestly say that I never even wanted my parents to get back together because I loved our family of three an anyone else would just mess it up. But I watched and listened as they fought and I didn't like it. In my mind there was only one person to blame for all of this tension and it was my dad.
Now as I said before I was incredibly excited for the visit and I told my best friend about it. I told her how happy I was and how wonderful he was. I talked with joy and excitement. The day finally came that I would see him and the next day on our way to school I said nothing. In fact I never mentioned it again. My friend was not going to ask but a year later we were walking along and I brought it up. I was thinking about how long it had been since I saw him. I talked about how it had been years and she quickly corrected me. She reminded me of his visit the year before and told me that she figured it was really bad since I never mentioned it again. I stopped in my tracks as the memory of the evening came flooding back and I told her what I tell you now.
He showed up right on time and I ran to the door. My mom and brother finally stopped arguing when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and began screaming at him. I yelled at him for leaving, and for the rain check and for not knowing me enough to buy me the right gifts. I yelled at him for hurting our family and for causing all of us pain. I yelled at him for making everyone in the house so upset. I blamed him for every wrong thing that ever happened in my young life and then I told him to get out and I never wanted to see him again. Then I ran to my room sobbing and I cried myself to sleep. I remember my mom coming to my room and stroking my hair and telling me everything would be alright. I woke up the next morning as if nothing had happened and we never spoke of it, for a whole year. When I went home that day I thought about talking to my mom about what I remembered, but then I decided not to. It wasn't the last time I saw him, but he did stay away and we went on as a family of three.

Our Fifth House

We were excited to move out of Granny's house and even though this was the 6th place I had lived it was the fifth house with my mom and brother. It was a cool house that had TWO bathrooms we had never had that before. My mom decided she would sleep in the family room and the little bathroom was hers. My brother and I each took a bedroom and shared the other bathroom. But only moms bathroom had a shower and so we all took our showers in there and the extra bathroom was rarely used except to hold dirty laundry.
I was excited to start my new school. I had been so popular at my previous school that I was sure the same would happen here. I was wrong. I started in the middle of the school year so I was different. I had just turned 11 and was older than most of the kids in my class. My teacher had sent a note to my new teacher explaining all of my wonderful attributes so the kids saw me as a teachers pet right off the bat. There was a couple of kids I knew from living on the church property from the neighborhood. One girl lived in the houses that the church also owned. The church had decided to stop renting the houses to tear them down for a building project and the families ha to move. This girl felt that since I went to that church it was my fault she had to move. She began to spread lies about me. Two other kids also knew me but one was very shy and the other was a boy. I had a crush on the boy when I was 4, and was glad he went to my new school, he was not!
Soon I was teased on a daily basis. One boy had decided to nickname me "Lunar Rover" because I was white as the moon and as ugly as a dog. This began my adventure at this new school and I was a very sad little girl.
Every day I came home from school crying that everyone hated me. My mother refused to believe it, but I knew it was true. Tired of my crying, mom sat me down and told me to pick one kid from all the others and ask her why she hated me. I decided my mother was crazy and it had been so long since she was in school that she just didn't understand. After a few weeks I too became tired of the drama and decided to give her idea a shot.
I picked the girl, she had braces like me an was just as awkward as I was. She didn't tease me out loud like the others so I thought I might have a chance. After everyone ate lunch each day we would stand behind a line and wait for the proctor to blow the whistle then everyone would run to the playground. You wanted to be first to get a swing, ball, jump rope or whatever you wanted to play so we all were ready to run. It was here that I chose to ask her my question. As we were waiting for the whistle I simply asked "why do you hate me?" and her first reply was because I laughed like a horse. Because of my braces my gums showed when I laughed and it was ugly according to her. Then the whistle blew and she ran away. So the next day I went up to her again and asked my same question and she told me that I snorted like a pig. This continued for three days and her final answer on Thursday was simply because everyone else does. I realized I was wearing her down so I followed her as she ran away and she went to the swings where she promptly saved one, not for me. Her best friend was going to swing with her and I was happy to find out that her best friend was my shy friend from church. So I asked to swing until her friend showed up. Of course she said no, but I didn't give up, until she punched me. Well I punched her back an soon we were in a fight and the proctor was pulling us off each other and dragging us to the principals office. The principal knew that I was having trouble making friends and assumed that Cathy had started the fight but when he asked we both stated that I had started the fight. He let Cathy go and I knew my life was over but he was a kind man and said he knew I was having a rough time so he would let me off with a warning and I was allowed to return to class.
Outside the office Cathy was waiting for me and she barked her question at me as I turned the corner, "Why did you say you started it?". I said because I wanted to swing and that's what we were fighting over. She gruffly agreed and we both returned to our perspective classrooms but an odd thing happened the next day. I didn't ask the question again but when I walked by the swings Cathy yelled to me that she was saving me a swing! I wish I could tell you that soon everyone stopped teasing me but that is not what happened. But from that day forward Cathy and I became friends and eventually best friends. Which made life a lot more bearable in my new school.

Another New School

So far I've been counting how many houses but not how many schools. I didn't because at my first school everyone was new so it was no big deal. I moved in the second grade and kids are still nice in the second grade so it was an easy transition. I went to another school in the 4th grade but so did everyone else so that was no problem either.
But now I was starting a new school in the 5th grade and I was a little nervous. But it was a great school! My teachers were wonderful and even though I talked consistently they liked me. My home room teacher gave me the nickname "Miss Mouth" but she said it in such a way that I grew very fond of her. The kids were great too! It was an awesome school and I loved being there!
I met my first crush at this school and I have memories of us hitting each other and chasing each other in the hallways. Everyday he would walk me home from school at least until his older brother would come along and make fun of him. I was so proud the day he told him to get lost and continued to walk me home.
I also had great girlfriends at this school. I was very naive and my mom had not told me the facts of life yet. When my friends asked me if I knew what a period was I told them it was a dot at the end of a sentence! Instead of filling me in they told me to talk to my mom.
My mom took me out to dinner one night and explained everything to me. I felt so grown up learning such adult things. In reality I sat there with my mouth hanging open in disbelief that anyone would ever do THAT!! Just a. couple of weeks later kids were teasing a girl because she openly asked what the "F" word meant. (someone had tagged the wall with it). Although I joined in the laughter I later asked my brother what it meant. He just yelled for my mom saying "Mom! She is asking questions again!". My mom quickly and quietly explained what it meant and I realized how I had embarrassed my brother.
I loved this school, the teachers, my friends it was a wonderful place and I even made honor roll for the first time, I was so excited. But all things must change and school was wonderful but at home it was pretty rough between my mom and Granny so we continued to look for a place. It was a cool house across the street from where my brother went to Jr. High and behind the High School. We found out the school district owned the property and they were taking bids to rent it out. I can remember sitting in the post office parking lot deciding how much to bid. My brother and I told my mom to raise the bid by 50 cents and we won, by 50 cents!! So we packed up and were ready to move but this time I had to say goodbye to the school I loved.
My "boyfriend" bought me a bracelet with our names engraved on it. My class threw me a going away party and everyone signed a big poster to "Miss Mouth". It was sad, but I was off on a new adventure and I had done so well on this adventure that the next one was going to be even better, or so I thought....

On The Road AGAIN.

We had a lot of fun memories and some sad ones in our fourth house.  The last one I will share is when I shot my brother.  Things were very boy vs girl at our house.  My brother got guns, and cars. I got dolls and doll houses, but I wanted guns and cars.  Now when I say guns, you're probably thinking, ok this is their fourth house, and she was only in the second grade when they moved there, he can't be very old, so what kind of guns??  They were BB guns, my uncle gave him one every year at our last house, because they were stolen so much, but he got wise and began to hide them, so he ended up with two!  One for me, and one for him, right?  That's the way I saw it, I was the only one but that's the way I saw it.  So I bugged, now for those of you who know me I'm sure that you are shocked that I could hound someone night and day until I got my way but I did.  Finally the day came that my brother was going to teach me how to shoot his gun.  He set up a target, and fired off a couple of rounds, it was so cool!  But the target fell over, so he set the rifle against the tree (his first mistake).  Then he told me not to touch it (his second mistake).  I, of course, agreed that I would wait patiently.  You know where this is going.... I picked it up, just to look, and it went off and hit him nicely in the leg.  Now these guns were not like those soft plastic bullets they have today.  They were small, round, metal bullets that could sink into your skin.  That's exactly what happened.  Fortunately for me, my brother was wounded and could no longer run fast, but I could and I did.  If he would have caught me that day, I wouldn't be here today to share this story.

Our landlords were good friends at the church.  I remember the night that they came over to tell us that they were moving, and that they were selling the house that they rented to us.  I was a hard night, because we were going to have to say good-bye to our friends and good-bye to our house.  The house sold quickly, and we were not able to move during the summer like my mom had hoped.  She hated moving us in the middle of a school year.  I was in the middle of my fourth grade year.  We had only been in that house two years, which seemed to be becoming my average in a home.  We looked every where for a place to live, but we couldn't find one.  It had not been long that we moved my mom into the family room, and my brother and I had our own rooms.  We knew that we would probably be back to sharing a room, but we had no idea what was in store for us.

We moved in with my Granny!  Now this might seem like a good thing to some folks, because you might remember that I was Granny's favorite and she and I had a very close relationship.  She was a lot of fun for me and I will tell more stories about her as we travel this journey, but the first one I need to share is our phone calls.  Since bill collectors were a common phone call in our house we did not like to answer the phone at various times in our lives.  So Granny came up with a signal, (this was before answering machines, and caller ID).  She would let the phone ring once and then hang up, and then call back.  That way we knew it was Granny calling and we would answer the phone.  What she didn't realize was that this system back-fired on her.  We knew that it was Granny calling.  Granny could talk for hours, and never let you say a word.  So when the signal began, we would begin to argue.  When I say we, this includes my mother.  Things like "I talked to her last time, it's your turn," or "I've had a hard day" or "I always have to talk to her," the last was mine, because I was her favorite, everyone knew that, so if no one else gave in, I was the one picking up the phone.  Some days she would talk about nothing, for hours, about nothing.  All I had to do was say, "uh-huh", and she was happy.  My best friend would give me a hard time, cause I would put the phone down, and go back every once in awhile and say "uh-huh,"  because she loved my Granny too, and couldn't imagine why I would do this.  She was also amazed that Granny never figured it out, or if she did she never let on.

But there were other times when we had great conversations.  She loved to play jokes on me.  I would answer the phone, "Hi Granny," and in her gruffest voice she would say, "This is not your Granny, little girl" I would giggle and say, "yes it is you used the signal".  We would go back and forth for several minutes.  When I was really little she would have me going.  But as I got older I would roll my eyes and play along, because even though I was "too old" for her little game, I loved that she still played it with me.

So how exciting would it be for me to move in with Granny!  She was a great cook, she adored me and I adored her.  The problem, two women in the same house does not a happy environment make!  They fought a lot, and I hated it.  Things my brother and I did that my mom would get upset with, she would get mad at my Granny, for getting upset with us.  If Granny made me cry, my mama was mad!  It was also a small house, with only two bedrooms, and a small nap-room my poppa had built, there was not much room for the four of us.  My brother and I put our bunk beds (the only thing that would fit) in the nap room.  There was half a foot between the back of the fireplace and the bed.  We put our dresser at the side of the fireplace and had basically a 2' X 2' place to stand before we got into bed.  I changed in my mothers room, and my brother used the bathroom.  It was a tight fit.

We used the church address so that we could continue to go to our old schools, but one of my teacher's found out and tried to use it to make me behave.  My mom decided that I should go to the school near Granny's house for 5th grade, but my brother got to stay in his Jr. High.  That was good for him, because change was harder on him than me.  I seemed to make friends more easily, at least I thought so......

Youth Group Mom

If you have read these blogs in order you may have a glimpses of my mother as an angry woman who chased her cheating husband out, and beat her children.  That's not the picture or memory I have of my mom.  By the comments I have received I know there are many people out there who loved her as much as I did and would love to hear more.

My mother was a very diverse individual with medical problems that we did not find out for years, so I cannot share that part until we get to that time in my life.  One of her many attributes was her love of children and especially teens.  My mother loved my brother and I unconditionally.  We always knew that she would lay her life down in a moment for us.  There were other people that she loved, I think, just as much.  She would do anything for them, and spent a lot of her money, time, and heart on these people.

This is what I like to call my "youth group mom".  She was the coolest mom around!  We had Chinese fire drills (I'm sorry if that's not PC, but that's what we called them in the 70's).  A Chinese fire drill, is done at a stop light, preferably at a busy intersection, everyone jumps out of the car, and runs around the car and gets back in.  While running, screaming and laughing at the top of your voice is preferable.  In case you were wondering, no alcohol was involved.  She taught me how to T.P. a house at an early age, and she welcomed my friends to the house all the time.

One of my favorite things was "ditch day".  My mom would call the house from work, just about the time my brother and I left for school.  Then she told me if I could catch my brother, we could both stay home from school that day.  Of course I would run like the wind screaming for my brother to come back home. I always caught him, even if he was riding a bike!  She would remind us of the rules.  We had to stay in the house or backyard until school was out, then we could hang out with our friends.  I think she did it so we would never ditch school for real.... it worked for me.

Since there was no youth pastor at our church during different times, my mom was the go to for many of the teens.  They could find her in the church office or stop by our home anytime day or night.  When we went to visit one of my uncles it was the teens who cared for our animals, and watched over the house.  This was a blessing, and always held a surprise for us when we arrived home.

The teens loved to play jokes on my mom, by tee-peeing the house, putting up for sale signs, or even the occasional sink or toilet.  My all-time favorite was when they tee-peed the INSIDE of the house.  We had been gone for a couple of weeks and returned to a single red light bulb shinning on our front porch.  For those that don't know this symbolizes a brothel.  We laughed, but were amazed by the simplicity of the joke, then we opened the front door.  Inside our house toilet paper was meticulously draped from the ceiling.  Each piece applied with tape, so that you could not walk into the house without breaking a strand.  From floor to ceiling, corner to corner, in every single room of the house was completely "decorated" with a variety of colors and designs.  It was absolutely beautiful, and although no one ever confessed to the job, it must have taken them the entire two weeks to complete the project.  We took pictures every step of the way, I hope to find those pics somewhere.

My mom loved those teens and they loved her in return.  She spent hours working on her bible study lessons.  She made food in large quantities, and fed them every week.  She also took the high school group which averaged 40 kids to Disneyland every year to celebrate the seniors graduating.  You might wonder how we could afford to do such things, and it was simple, she raised the funds.  Every penny she raised for the teens, went to the teens, and she worked hard to make things happen so that they felt her love in many different ways.  Many of them considered her a saint, and in many ways she was, but she always felt there was more that she could do.

From my point of view, I loved who my mom was when she was with the youth group.  I loved the way the teens treated me.   Although they constantly teased me, I knew they loved and accepted me.  I was able to participate in trips, conversations, and learn many things before I became a teen.  I was also able to see a different side of my mom.  She would let her guard down, and became fun.  The times would flow into each other and the hard times would fade in the glow of her love and warmth.  I truly loved my mom, and these times gave me the opportunity to forgive the harder times, as well as a desire to understand.