More Photos I’ve Taken

I believe there’s a story to tell about each photo.

Photos

I got out today and took some photos. I wanted to share them with you.

Don’t be Surprised

No matter what age we are, we can never be done in the learning department. We don’t ever want to get so comfortable to the point, that we think we have life for the most part; set. I don’t even think it matters whether you have money or if you are poverty level, whether you have a job or not, food on the table or wondering where your next meal is coming from. Life can and most likely will change.

We think we know people, but there may come a day, when you are blown a way by what someone says or does. This is just a part of life; disappointment, it comes with the territory I believe.

We all get in ruts in life. I think this is where the problem stems from. Look at the Covid pandemic. Two years of all the rules changing. Fear of something unseen, taking over the world.

Now, we sit back and we relax, but should we? I don’t know. I do know it has a repeated history of being less of a bad situation once Spring and summer come, and then, boom, the cold weather returns and Covid or some virus comes to light.

This is just a prime example of how we should never get to comfy. Comfortable with our personal situations, our jobs, our friends and yes, even families can go through turmoil.

I believe with all my heart, that if we realize that life throws curve balls, we can bounce back just a little faster.

Chapter Forty Two

Today, being an adult and a Senior citizen, I can say with a true heart that I am not proud of what I did for attention back in my younger days.

I don’t remember everything of course and not everything was done for attention. I would rather think I was being a jealous girl and also beginning to show some independence.

When brother and I were young and in school, bedtime was at eight o’clock. No matter what we were doing, the activity stopped. Baths had been taken, clothes laid out for the next morning and teeth were brushed. I remember one evening I was reading a Nancy Drew book and I wasn’t ready to stop.

After mom made sure we were in bed and lights out, I got out of bed and took my blanket with me. I also grabbed the small, plaid light, which I took the shade off so it would fit under the bed,from the desk and along with my book I went under the bottom bunk. I plugged the light in and began reading my book. It wasn’t long before I saw some sort of steam and before I realized what it was, the heat from the light had lit the blanket on fire.

I was so scared. I think the scurrying I was doing caused alarm from mom and she opened the door to this. She sure was mad at me for disobeying bedtime orders. I am pretty sure she was grateful she came in when she did because she was able to put out the smoldering of the blanket. She only said to me, “Back to bed right now!” and of course I obeyed. I never tried that again.

There were other times that I did things that caused grief for my parents, such as racing in the house ahead of them and opening cupboard drawers and cabinets; making it looked like we had been robbed. I even watched as my mom accused other neighbors about their kids staying off our property. I am ashamed now.

I used to ride my bike down to my friend’s house, which was about a half a mile away, and I wouldn’t come home until dinner time. Mom knew where I was by habit, but she got so tired of me disobeying her and I don’t blame her.

I was screwed up back then. It had been my brother and I for ten years and then a baby came into the house, and I didn’t like the attention spent on her. I’m pretty sure I was craving attention that I hadn’t had for so very long but it was not my stepmother’s fault for my past life.

To be continued…

Chapter Forty-One

I went to the store the next day and purchased a sympathy card. I addressed it when I got home and inside the card; I wrote a small letter, explaining who I was. The very next day I mailed it.

I waited each day and each day I received nothing in the mail. Then about a week later I received a phone call. It was Mama. My heart jumped out of my skin. Excitement built up inside of me until I thought I would burst.

The mama who I had not seen for so many years, the mama who truly loved me, the mama I craved to be with once again, had called. Oh how I had waited for so many years for this moment.

I should go back a step or two before continuing on because I bet you are wondering about my step-mother. We got along alright but I never felt that bond that usually is there between a mother and her daughter.

In fact, I remember life with her growing up was pretty quiet,until my baby sister was born. I didn’t realize it then, but when I grew up and went through some adult therapy; I learned that I was a normal, jealous kid.

I didn’t see myself as a normal, jealous kid though. I saw the differences. Mother smiled so big when she was taking care of baby J. I didn’t remember her smiling at me like that. She spoke to everyone about the new baby. The baby taking a bath, her bottle, getting up with her through the night. I never heard mother talking about me to others.

She spent lots of time when she was home from work with her little girl. I never really thought I was ever her little girl. I really didn’t understand what the distinct difference was but I knew there was a difference, a feeling I carried within my heart. A kid, even at ten years old, knows certain things or at least feels from her heart.

When mother called out my name, it was to set the table or to remind me to take my bath or check on brother and see what he was doing or telling me to go outside and ride my bike. I don’t ever remember mother sitting down with me in her spare time. She didn’t read books to me. We didn’t play tea parties together. This was the difference between sister and me. I felt like the out cast and I felt that way as I got older and saw the way mother treated her compared to me.

I did things that once grown-up, I realized I did it for attention. You wouldn’t believe some of the stuff a ten-year old, quiet kid like me could think up.

To be continued…

Chapter Forty

By the time I was thirty-six, I had a family of three children and lived in Warsaw. For some unknown reason that I didn’t figure out at the time, we decided to move a way from our home town and move about twenty minutes farther a way.

I enjoyed the new home and our neighbors were kind. The schools seemed to be adequate. Life was good. One day, I bought a local newspaper. We were all sitting at the Pizza Hut and I decided to open the newspaper. On the second page, there it was.

I gasped for air for a moment, and my husband asked what was wrong with me.

” I see it! I see it! It’s my mama. Her father has passed and there is her name and the city and state she lives in!”

He looked at me and said nothing. I placed the newspaper aside, with each word of the obituary glued to my mind. We didn’t speak about it again, but inside I was like a jumping jack bean. I couldn’t wait to get home.

Upon entering our front door I grabbed a pop and sat down with my husband, telling him I was going to find out her number. My thoughts were racing. I asked my husband should I tell her over the phone who I was? Or should I write her? What should I do? I think my husband didn’t have any idea what to do, so he remained quiet.

The first thing I did, was call phone information and ask for her phone number. That was a piece of cake. I next called her but I didn’t tell her who I was. I just told her that I was a friend that knew her dad back home and I would like to send a card. I asked her, knowing she wouldn’t give a stranger her address, but she did. I quickly wrote it down and thanked her for the information.

I hadn’t seen my mama since I was five years old and had been searching for her since I was thirteen and now I am thirty-six and I have a piece of gold in my hand, her name, address and phone number.

I knew in my heart that the reason I had moved out of town was that God knew I could find my mama.

To be continued…

Chapter Thirty-Nine

From the author. These chapters I have written is what I have dealt with for most of my teen years and up. These chapters are what has made me who I am today. Sometimes on sad or low days, I will still question myself on the most important topic; What’s wrong with me, that two mothers didn’t want me.

I will be jumping ahead because from the time of that day when my real mother tried to get in the house and see me until my teens and grown-up years, most of it is a blur still.

I remember when I was thirteen, my grandmother explaining to me how rotten my real mother was. I had never seen my mother throughout those empty years and I couldn’t believe what was being said right now to me.

In my mind, hearing these nasty comments, I was defending mama, as even at thirteen, I understood life enough to know it had to be so hard to try to raise two kids when she was but a kid herself.

This is the point of my life when I made the decision and got the determination to find her once again. I was going to find out why these comments were being said and where she was living and why she never came back to see me when I turned sixteen. She had promised my mother that she would be back when I turned sixteen. I waited all day on my birthday and cried myself to sleep.

I didn’t get my answers that I longed for until I turned thirty-six years old.

To be continued…

Chapter Thirty-Eight

I sat as quiet as a mouse, partly because I was a little scared of the yelling I was hearing and partly because I wanted to hear what this was all about. The front door was opened wide. I could see mother holding on to the screen door, not letting the woman pull it open. She sure wanted to come in.

I heard parts of their conversation though and I may be a little girl but I knew they were talking about me and the other lady was my mama. Mama! Mama! My heart sang out. I started to stand-up and go run to her but something inside me told me to stay put and remain quiet.

“You’re not welcome here mam, now leave and please don’t come back again.”

” I want to see my baby! You can’t stop me from seeing my baby girl!”

“You walked a way from her and she isn’t a baby anymore. She is now five years old. Now please leave.” I saw mother trying to pull the screen door shut but mama was playing tug of war with the door.

” You just wait lady! When she turns sixteen, she’ll be able to tell you that she wants to live with me and you won’t be able to do a damn thing about it! You just wait and see! I’ll wait and I’ll be back, the day she turns sixteen.”

“Okay, we shall wait and in the mean time, leave and don’t come back.”

I didn’t realize it at first but I felt wetness and when I touched my chubby cheeks, there were tears streaming down my face. This woman, this mother was keeping me from the person I loved; my mama. I was heart broken. My body didn’t want to move but I forced myself to move. I quietly sneaked back up the stairs and into my room. I raced to my bed and threw myself on it. I covered my entire body up with my covers. I wanted to hide from everyone. I wanted to run a way. I wanted to pay my my new mother back.

To be continued…

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Well, I better move on. As you can see, Granddad meant the world to me, so I talked a bit too much about him? No, probably not enough. I am sure there is or was a family member who meant so much to you. I bet if you think about it right now, you will just plain smile.

So, our new step-mom, {mother}, dad and brother and I lived in a house all by ourselves. Grandma and grandpa lived about a half hour away but we saw them usually every Friday evening. We would go to their house and we always had chili and hot dogs. Daddy sure did love this meal, well I can’t really remember, but he must have, we went every Friday at supper time.

After supper was done, us kids would sit on our chairs and be as quiet as we could. Family always told us that children should be seen and not heard. Grandma would turn on the television and we would watch whatever the grown-ups watched. It was fun to watch their TV because they had one of those color TV’s. We only had a black and white one at our house.

After the programs were over, we were told to go use the bathroom because there would no no stopping on the way home. We would all climb in the car but not until daddy kissed grandma on the cheek and as we were pulling away, daddy would always honk and I would see grandma standing at the big, bay window waving to us goodbye.

I really don’t remember too much about the house we lived in except two things. Us kids slept upstairs and when you used the stairs, you went up one flight, and through a wooden framed, glass door, then you went up the other flight.I remember this well. I was four and I was coming down the stairs one morning and I tripped. I fell down the stairs and went through the glass door and fell the rest of the way down. I remember mother making me lay down on the couch and she searched my eyes for glass with a flashlight. I didn’t go to the doctor or a hospital as she didn’t find anything. Today, though, all grown-up and getting my eye exams, the doctor says I have scaring on one eye, and it looked like I had some sort of accident. I told him about that time I fell and he said it made sense.

There was another time that I was in the living room, hiding behind this brown rocker. I don’t remember what I was hiding from or who but I am sure I was trying to get by with something I knew I shouldn’t be doing.

Mother was in the room too and she didn’t even notice me. I was being real quiet. There came a knock at the door and I saw mother go and open the door. I could hear two ladies talking and they were raising their voices. It sounded like they were mad at each other. Who could be at that door?

To be continued…

Chapter Thirty-Six

Grandad taught brother about life and he did this through the animals. He let him watch as pigs and cows gave birth. He taught him how to milk a cow and how and when to feed the animals. I think brother learned more from this man than he learned in his entire life. I am sure, looking back, it was the gentle voice and attitude and lots of patience.

Granddad worked hard on the farm but when he was not working he would tell us kids a lot of jokes. He had nicknames for each one of us and he made each of us feel so important. I know now, being all grown, that feeling important and loved is the base of a good foundation for adult hood.

When Grandad wasn’t working on the farm, he had a part-time job too. He drove the school bus for many years. I think every kid loved him. He had big, floppy ears and always wore bib overhauls.

When he retired from this job and the farm was sold to another farmer, he went to work for the State Highway department. He drove a truck. I don’t know how long he worked there but one day it was over because he had a heart attack while driving and hit a semi head on.

This was my first experience as an adult, dealing with loss of life. Oh boy, did I cry and cry. It took me years to get over the fact that I couldn’t see him any longer. I don’t believe there was another person that came into my life that could fill Granddad’s shoes. I miss him today but smile, as I remember all the love that poured out of his heart.

To be continued….