The Candy Dish

When I was in High School, my best friend lived around the corner. I loved going to her house.  She was an only child, and that itself was fascinating to me. She didn't have to share a room, clothes, stuff... She had privacy, but yet she also always had her parents watching over her. Her parents were wonderful.

Our neighborhood, kind of had this unwritten rule, where all of the parents helped raising us... and discipline us. We were just as scared of them catching us be naughty as our own parents. I feel that I was very blessed in that we did have that kind of a neighborhood. I always felt that every one of the adults looked out for us, contributed to our growth and gave us an extra bit of love. I felt that if I needed something, rather it be a glass of water, or a bit of advice I got it from a number of these dear neighbors.

I guess, in a lot of ways, my parents were the cool parents. They were always the delightful parents.  From being headquarters of the neighborhood water fight, to just a fun place to hang out.  They also allowed kids to smoke at there house (my sister smoked & my parents rather her do it at home than in the streets sneaking..)so that also contributed to some hanging out there. My parents always had food to share with the neighborhood kids.  And always welcomed everyone.  My parents were there to listen and lend a helping hand.

Some of the neighbor kids, had the parents that were never home, and that was often a "fun" place to hand out. Some always had something to teach us.  And some were there to give us their valued opinions and advice.  Some were just there for us, and we felt safe.

When I think back, my best friend, she had the strict parents. Few were allowed to be there when a parent wasn't home (I did earn that trust with them).  Her parents, always had to know who, when, where, and why. It always annoyed my friend.  Especially, because I was chatty and often told too much to the parents. Her Dad was about the kindest and most handsome of the parents. While her Mom, I always thought she was Liz Taylor beauty mixed with just the smartest of all our parents... but also not here to be our friend rather than a parent. In which I later found myself following suit as I raised my daughters. Her Mom... definitely gets the blue ribbon in being a great Mom!

One of my favorite memories about going over to my best friends house, is that they had a candy dish.  Her Mom ALWAYS had a little something in it. ALWAYS. Not once do I remember it being empty. Also... I was always welcomed to have a piece or two.  There was something about that Candy Dish and it always having a little something for sharing that stuck to me.  I carried the memories into my own home and have always had a Candy Dish available for anyone to have a piece of heaven to devour. My girls grew up not necessarily craving candy as it was something always available.

Candy Dishes.  They say WELCOME! ENJOY! & FEEL COMFORT.  I rarely see them anymore.  Except at my house... and my dear best friends Mom's house♥

I hope to carry this tradition as long as I have a home and a Candy Dish to fill.

50 years ago... my world changed

Half a century ago, an event took place that changed my family's life forever.

My young parents, had dreams of prosper and visions of a great life. My sister not yet 3 years old and I at 10 months, completed our family. They had recently decided they would soon move us from Indiana to Texas. My Mom was from San Antonio, and with jobs declining, and the threat of my Dad's job on the line, they had hopes of moving our family south so we could prosper and my Mom would be closer to her family.

My Dad had a friend named Bud, that often talked of his Harley Davidson, offering to Dad to take it for a spin any time. One beautiful day, April 6th, 1963...my Dad took him up on the offer, wanting to show my Mom how safe motorcycles were and wanted my Mom to see that it would be a good investment for them. My Dad felt with the warmer climate of Texas, and the small amount of fuel they took, this would be idea transportation for him once they moved to Texas.

My parents left my Sister and I in our Godparents care, and went for a spring ride on a 1948 Harley Davidson. I can assure you, my Dad was driving careful.  He was an experienced rider, his lovely wife was on the Bike with him, and he was trying to prove how safe they were, so she would be in agreement that he would buy one.

While driving along 42nd Street, in Indianapolis, they hit a rather large chuckhole, throwing them from the Harley. My Mom, skinned, broken arm and a good 50 feet from my Dad, couldn't get over to my Dad. He was badly injured with a massive head injury, among other things.

My Dad's vitals were slight. He was brought into the hospital as DOA... Dead On Arrival. A Resident was performing a check for all vitals and told his training Doctor he was certain he was hearing some gurgling in the heart... My Father, was indeed alive. Barely, but alive.

Across the city, his younger cousin, Pam, sat with her family watching television. The phone rang.   Her Mom, (whom not only very close to my Dad, but was a nurse as well), answered....Pam remembers her Mom saying over and ever again "Oh My God! Oh My God!.....

After that she left to go to the hospital. Pam will never forget the utter fear and helplessness in her voice.

 

Meanwhile, my Dad is hanging onto a thread of life. My Mom at 22 years, is watching a priest give last rights to husband, a shell of a 27 year old man... His discolored head cracked open, his body badly broken and torn apart from the pavement and impact. When her friend brings my Sister to see her, Julie is frightened of my mothers appearance, and does not recognize her. My scared Mom feels so alone. She looks at her husband...his  head is as round and large as a basketball. It is purple. He is not recognizable at all. The rest of his body is wrapped in cast and bandages. He does not look human.

 

My Dad survives the night.

In fact, although in a coma for 13 days, he is considered a miracle and many Doctors are amazed that he not only survied, but starts to show improvement. After a lengthy stay in the hospital and several months in rehabilitation, he leaves them... capable of walking out, speaking, and functioning... He has re-learned the most simple task that are extremely difficult to him. He has to learn to feed himself, master coordination skills, thought process, using his young yet damaged body the best he can. My Dad becomes a study case, and enjos the opportunity to assist the many Doctors and medical students in clinicals and interviews.  My Dad received an award from Crossroads Rehabilitation Center for his acheivements.

Over the course of a year, my Dad is back to work and trying to get his life back.

My Mom... she is thrilled to have him back....Alive... and having much of his functions back.  However they are not back to normal, and never will be.  My Dad's handicaps have put a huge unspoken burden on my Mom, who now has two small daughters as well as a handicap husband to care for.

Think for just a moment.

Look around and see all we have that is handicap accessable today. Now imagine 1963. We have none of it.  Nothing.

 

My Mom, kicks into gear, taking care of us all, never second guessing or complaining. She just jumps in and gets it done.  The dream to go back to Texas is gone. She does not get the pleasure of her family to help her, although Dad's family steps in.

 

Over the years, one thing after another, from the impact of "The Accident" as this has been named, has come upon them.  One day, my Dad's boss, (he was working in a manufacturing plant) approached him and told him that he is too slow now. His producting is not near what they need and they "don't want a retard working here". My devastated Dad can't find a job. We do not have laws in place to protect the Handicapped Employee back then. No Americans with Disabilities Act.

 

My parents go through a lengthy lawsuit against the City of Indianapolis, due to the road condition that caused the accident.  My sister and I are placed in separate homes. I am placed with friends, but I am far from my family. Day after day I sit at the window crying for my Mom. I miss her. I am scared and confused. I am around 4 years old. My sister stayed with a neighbor as she had school to attend. I don't understand why I am not with her. Or my Grandparents...Or cousins... I want my Mommy. My parents win. Which all I understand is I get to live with my family again, so I am happy. We move and I think all is going to be okay.

It's not.

Over the next 40 years... my depressed Dad tries to take his life several times. My Mom as well suffers much depression. My Sis & I survive a dysfunctional childhood and learn to take life for what it is. We learn coping skills, yet we also suffer the consequences of things that happened throughout our childhood.

 

You know, I often wonder what might have been had that event had not taken place. What kind of life would my parents have had. Who would Julie & I become if situations were different? Even though I wonder, and I certainly wish things were somewhat better for my parents all these years, I do believe that things happen in life and it's what we do with what we are given that matters. I don't think it was God's will that they were hurt in that accident, but I do think it was His will that they survived. What would have happened if they had died then? Who would have taken Sis & I? And would we have been able to stay together? I am so grateful that we did have our parents to raise us and I am grateful for the person I have become. Far from perfect... and still learning... even at 50, but I am who I am because of what I have been through, who has been a part of me, and for what I have learned through Faith.

 

It has been an eventful life.  A very eventful year.

 

Yet we continue to move forward.

 

My Dad is a survivor.

And so am I.

Evolving Bullism

At fifty, I am finding that victims of childhood bullies often find themselves being bullied their whole lives... The difference is, how we are now able to handle it.  Maybe, I needed to be a victim as a child so I could stand up tall as an adult.  Maybe, it was so I could teach and protect others.  Regardless, it is interesting to me to see. a target is a target. It doesn't mean I am weak.  Nor beneath others.  It simply means, unhappy or mean people will continue to pick on those they find that are not cruel by nature.

Bullying is the use of force or coercion to abuse or intimidate others. The behavior can be habitual and involve an imbalance of social or physical power. It can include verbal harassment or threat, physical assault or coercion and may be directed repeatedly towards particular victims, perhaps on grounds of race, religion, gender sexuality, or ability.  The victim of bullying is sometimes referred to as a "target". 

I have written about Bullies before. Here, Here, and Here. But these are more of childhood bullied days.

As a child, my bullies were bigger than me. I was small, weak, and quietly accepting. An easy target.

This photo was taken at age 6. By a man, that molested me. He was my parent's friend.  This photo is intriguing to me.  Holding my hands, a nervous habit. No smile on my face.. a look of a frightened animal caught in her hunters glaze.  I believe the eye make up is because of a dance recital my sister and I were about to perform that evening. Haunting, but beautiful, to me.


 Today, as a middle aged woman, I continued to be pushed and pulled and threatened. This photo is more current (school photo taken last month).  I have learned to be a little more confident and have learned to be more understanding to things that have happened to me.

This week I have been "bullied" by those I love, and those I serve, as well as an over-zealous bill collector of my parents affairs.
My dad, while I know he appreciates all I do, gets frustrated at his situation, feels boxed in, or as he put it... "held up in this damn cell I have him in". He lashes at who he is closest to, which is now me.  {I am beginning to understand some of Mom's frustrations even more, and so wish she had allowed Sis & I to help more}. He was, not exactly kind to me with some rather harsh words.  Dad's behavior followed an argument with my Hubby... so I had already had enough of men in my life, telling me how things need to be.
Later in the week, I had a "friend/co-worker" feel necessary to try and hurt me.
To top it off...this same day,  I had a couple of minors try to bully me and tried to turn others against me, including making accusations that could have cost me much had anyone taken them seriously. This was immaturity at it's finest. A "child" with power struggles that wanted to show her power over authority. (but then again, as John Melloncamp has said..."I find Authority, authority always wins". Thank God!)
Seriously.  I give my heart, time, energy to these kids... To have one or two do something mean and to flat out LIE. Oh my gosh! My heart was broken.  I nearly quit.  But then again... remembering, survival skills and that I must show these young ladies as well as the ones watching... Bullying will not win. Especially with me.  Shoot.  I've had things happen to me that they can't even imagine.  God prepared me for the situations like this.  As well as putting wonderful strong anchor folks in my life that keep me up! I hid while some tears shed, got up some gumption and stood tall.  NEVER LET THEM SEE YOUR FEAR.

Some people go their whole lives without others trying to tear it down, provide pain or scars.  I am so grateful, I know some folks that have been Blessed with this.  They produce a sense of confidence that doesn't get picked into.  I may not have that kind of strength, however, I have a certain sensitivity that understands and perhaps can help others.  If nothing else, maybe I can set an example of admiration to those who get it.

Today, is a new day.  I wasn't destroyed last week.  Maybe torn down a bit, but I survived.  My head is high and I am ready for this new week.  What is it that God has in store for me?  What mountains to climb valleys to descend.  This is what I have been given, so bring it on. I am ready to inspire♥

House Roots

Julie & Me on Audubon Rd

Have you ever gone back & looked at the homes you grew up in?  Curious to what they look like now?  Did they seemed so big when you were young, and now you realize how tiny they were?

Some people are able to know what the home they grew up in is like because perhaps their parents still live there.  Or maybe they still live there.

In years past, while I was a Realtor, I did "look" at a few of my "growing up" homes via the internet when they were listed, but never actually walked through one.

Lately, I have been thinking about them.  What if we stayed here or there? Would things have been different? Would I have taken different paths? 

The four homes my parents had during my childhood were close in location. I went to one school for Kindergarten and 1st grade, then stayed in the same school district for the other two.

I remember all but one. The first home I lived in, I was quite young when we moved and much was happening in our lives that caused us to not have many photographs. I know the name of the street but do not know the exact address.

I google mapped th remaining three and zoomed in (such a creeper!).

This first one is sad... The house has been in ruins and someone has recently bought it and has repaired it.

Windsor Drive

When I lived here as a little girl, I remember shrubs in the front of the porch giving it much privacy, and the most beautiful Iris'. I imagine that is why I favor them so much. Mom's were so lovely. This tiny hill seemed huge as a little girl. The drive way was dangerously steep & my folks walked our tricycles down it for us. A large tree sat in the side yard, where I learned to climb trees. My parents made this house a home of love. Mom babysat children here, my Sis & I had double birthday parties, we always had fun. It was a wonderful home.

Audubon Road

My parents moved us to this home the summer before starting second grade. Excitedly, my Sister and I embraced our beautiful home, new neighborhood and new school. Shortly after moving here, my Grandmother Mellie, moved in with us. (I had my own room for about a year, then happily moved in with my Sis...she probably wasn't as excited). That was home for just three years. Unfortunately, not a lot of great memories there.

19th Street

This was home. This is where we moved while in fourth grade. I lived here until I moved out on my own. This was the neighborhood house. My Mom found it when Julie was at a slumber party around the block. My Sister and I were always spending the nights over in this neighborhood. This house had 5 bedrooms believe it or not. Two upstairs, and three in the basement. Over the years, I moved through 4 of them! In high school, I had the rooms above the garage. (Imagine me climbing out that window, up to the top, where I sat many nights to think, pray, and just have some air. I also may have gone over the other side & down the awning to "escape" a few times...shhh!)  My parents kept this house for many years after Julie & I moved out, later downsizing to a one story home.

After I moved out, I lived in many, many homes. A dormitory during college, a few apartments and duplexes until my life began with Sergio.

Sergio was smart with house purchasing and together we worked our way through 10 homes in 25 years! Amazingly, we stayed in one home for 10 while the girls went through most of their school years.

We were fortunate with the housing market. We lived in wonderful homes. My girls, particularly through their school years, had the best neighborhood, pools, basketball court, cul-de-sac, and tons of neighborhood kids to play with.

While I love the house we currently live in, I know, we will move again. We hope to move just one, maybe two more times. This time we are considering going further. We want beaches or mountains. It's a big move. I want to be in a location that my kids will want to come often. I hate the thought of being away from, but I know they are only beginning their own adventures of adulthood.

I am not so sentimental to houses. It's the memories which were formed there. I take them with me. Any house can be a home. It's our job to make it that. I wonder what it would be to let my roots go deep and stay put, but we are so content with pulling them up and re-potting them to new soil.

Now, what about you and your roots?

peace now my friend

This week I tragically lost a dear friend. He was only 49.
He peacefully left this life while sleeping. In his favorite spot on the couch, TV on, remote still in his hand.

Although it comforts me that he went like this, my heart is heavy and my sadness envelops me.

Memories surround us when we lose someone we love. I have so many of my Ronnie.

Our fathers were buddies in high school so there is some deeper connection.

When I was in elementary school, my family moved into his neighborhood.  Beginning of a lifetime friendship.  In 5th grade, I developed my first crush. Ronnie was my target. My friends, Jeanette Ramey and Janice Munchell, loaded our purses with rocks, knocked Ronnie down with them, sat on him so I could steal kisses.  Poor Ronnie. it's amazing we didn't scar him for life.  During the summer, Ronnie would hold Chemistry Exhibits in his basement and charge us kids to watch him do his experiments. My friend Tammy Bayliff and I paid to come watch. It was exciting and we thought he would blow up the basement (never happened). In these early years Ronnie & I had more of a love hate relationship. Although we were the same grade, I ran more with his little brother Richie (go HERE to read a post about Richie) and sister Kim. One summer, Kim picked me to go with them on a family vacation to a lake house. Ronnie still teases me about that trip. 1st~ I threw up in his Dad's new car. Not good. 2nd~ The movie Jaws was out that year and I was TERRIFIED. Ronnie & Bobby Hughbanks convinced naive me that sharks were in this lake... I know not too bright. Ronnie got in trouble for continuing to scare the shit out of me.

When we got to high school, Ronnie and I got closer. Especially our senior year. As I dated one of his best friends, and he dated one of mine. We were now spending just about every day together. The memories and laughs we share are unbelievable.

By time we all started heading to college, Ronnie helped me decide on Vincennes University. After not getting accepted at my first choice, and having huge reservations about going out of state to a very strict religious college I got accepted to, Ronnie had the good sense to tell me to come along with him to VU for a year. So, one Saturday morning, our parents packed us both up and dropped us off three hours south of Indianapolis to a little redneck town. We had the time of our lives... Ronnie was a clever guy as well as a fun guy. He always had adventures and "situations" to get us into. With the help of fellow Indy / Vincennes buddies, particularly Maurice Musser, we made quite a time of the college experience. We trusted each other completely. He was after all the closest thing to a brother I had. We were always trying to figure ways to make money to get us to Bloomington Indiana for the weekends. For a skinny little girl, I could hold my liquor well. Ronnie would make bets I could chug drink a small bottle (a pint?) of Jack Daniels quickly and not throw up.  cool. stupid. But we made tons of money with that little trick!

Our College year together bonded us even more. He was there for me holding me together when breaking up with my first sweetheart. And I was there holding him together when his break up happened. We took care of each other. We loved each other. We were a part of each other and who we were becoming.

Into adulthood, as friends come and go, I could always count on Ronnie. He could always count on me.

Ronnie was there with me the night I met my husband, Sergio. I made him come with me on our first date. Hell, I had both his siblings there too. We had a cookout, and Sergio invited them all as he knew how unsure I was about "dating" at that time.

Ronnie lived with us for a short period when he was between places. I loved that period and enjoyed our time immensely.

Ronnie and Richie were both with me when I went into labor with my first child. We were at a Saturday evening Mass dedicated to his Grandma Love. Completely made me think Grandma Love was involved as well in a part of Emily's grand entrance to the world. Ronnie & Richie came home with me, stayed with me, timed my contractions, and while Richie was hoping to deliver her with his pre-vet skills... Ronnie was freaking out trying to get a hold of Sergio to come home from work and get me to the hospital. We made it in times, and Ronnie was one of her first visitors.

Throughout the next twenty years, as I got busy with mothering, Ronnie continued to be a strong part of our lives. His friendship with my husband and I was always much more than friendship. We were family. I will always feel the Seats as my family. Sergio was very much a big brother to Ronnie. He guided him and loved him as deeply as I.

Ronnie was hilarious. Always. He was the go to guy to make you laugh. He was the King of Limericks and of the dirtiest of all jokes. Ronnie had a magical laugh. It was contagious. No matter how foul your mood, Ronnie could make you laugh.

Ronnie is one of the culprits that is responsible for my Lynryd Skynyrd, Molly Hachett, ZZ Top, and RUSH  love. I watched many a battles of air gutiar, Lynryd Skynyrd blaring with Ronnie almost always winning. I can't listen to this music without smiling.

Ronnie was crucial for me during some rough spots. When many friends didn't step out of the comfort zones and help me, Ronnie would. He understood my depression. Ronnie helped me. We would talk about some deep stuff. Ronnie shared things with me he couldn't with others as well. We had each other on this.

Ronnie knew how to make me feel appreciated and loved. He could set things in perspective for me when he couldn't always see that for himself. He said I was guilty of that too for him.

Ronnie was too young to die. He had much still to accomplish. He was so incredible proud of his son, Nick. He was such a great father and taught his son well. He pushed him and was so proud of his accomplishments. He was looking forward to his son's graduation and final college decision. He was extremely proud of both his brother and sister. He loved his nephews so. His parents as well. How hard it must be to bury your son. How unfair it must seem.

Letting go of this one is difficult.

Bye Bye January, Bring it On February!

As the eve of the last day of January winds down, we are getting a whopper of a storm.
It has began. It is sleeting now. We expect 1.5" of ice, then 4-6 inches of snow. That is where I live. Just an hour north, my daughters are anticipating up to 10" of snow on top of the ice.
My dogs were a bit confused as we walked outside. They look at me as if, "what the heck Mom?" What is THIS?" I tell them to hurry up, take care of our business & they can go back inside a warm dry house with cozy beds & fun toys in just a few.

I can't help but be reminded of the Blizzard of '78 . Click the link for amazing detail of the largest storm to hit our city. Closing not only the Airport, schools and business, but all Indiana State Roads.

Indianapolis 1/28/1978

We all have a story of that Blizzard. I was only 15 so to me, I didn't worry, like my parents. I thought it was an absolute winter wonderland with fabulous fun memories of my neighborhood friends having fun. The snow drifts reached the rooftops of many of the homes. The crazy brave boys and a few girls (not me) jumped off the roofs into the snow. We kids went door to door through our neighborhood to see who needed what and to get everyone to chip in. We took sleds to a nearby Lender's Shop for necessities we could get for the neighbors. All my photographs are sealed in my memory. I didn't have a loaded camera that day. These I found on file. But they are exactly as I remember it. The Blizzard shut down our city for a week.

this is how most of us saw our homes

To date, we haven't had such a storm since. A few they were intense, but no Blizzard of '78. I wonder if tonight will bring on the same force. My girls are just hoping for cancelled classes but doubt it will happen. I don't know, already several universities are closing and Anderson University is only 20 miles from them. I am thinking they will have a "snow day".

This time I have my camera ready.

To all my blogging buddies out there also expecting to be hit by this storm, I say, stay warm and safe. I rather not read of any of you busting you bum on the ice. Let's pray it's cold enough for this ice to be snow, as we would rather have 10" of snow than 1.5" of ice. The ice is the killer, especially on the streets. So, take care!
FYI~ to those of you that haven't had to deal with this kind of weather, if we do have this bad ice storm, it is highly likely many of us will lose power, thus, no INTERNET.... Now that can be serious for some of us Bloggettes!
Love to you all~
Sweet Dreams & Hope to chat tomorrow♥

I remember...

Thinking about childhood last night made me think about some stuff.

You may remember some of these as well.

 Playing with Kiddles way longer than I should have. But they were so cute!

 

Tiger Beat Magazine

Reading my favorite gossip magazines.

Mark Spitz

Sneaking into Julie's room to stare at this poster. (It was lifesize!)

Playing kickball in our cul-de-sac till porch lights came on to signal us to come home.

Tammy Bayliff, Mary Chrenshaw, Me

 Memories of my Camp Fire Sisters. And the shenanigans we got into.

Believing my Sis, that Bobby Sherman's song, "Julie, Julie, Do you Love Me", was written for her.

 Playing down at the "forbidden creek" by our neighborhood.

Watching & knowing that The Partridge Family was way cooler than The Brady Bunch.

Shari, Me, Janet, Leann, Julie

Whenever the Tribby cousins came to town.

Maureen Kern, Me & Lisa Deer

Birthday parties!

Slumber Parties, and playing the stupid games like, "I think shes dead..." and having seances, and playing Ouija. (Then being to afraid to fall asleep.)

{Im the last one kneeling on right}

Summer Camp at Bradford Woods Camp Fire Girls Camp. (Even though I worked in the kitchen for my "scholarship").

Me, Carla, & Julie

Dance Lessons..(nervous about recital).

Fancy & Me

Riding Horses at Grandma & Grandpa's home.

Grandma, Grandpa, & Me

Learning to work hard. Hard enough to be sore and learn to appreciate it.

My parents Volkswagons.

Rebbie

Inky

Fester

Sherman

Oliver

Tanda

Childhood pets...

Summer porch jam seasons with my Uncles, Aunts, Grandparents, & friends, down in Texas.

Grandma & Me

Grandpa & Me

Being very silly and laughing with my Grandparents.

Jubilee & Me at the tack house after a big storm

Caring for the horses to earn my keep, during the summers in Texas.

Being so excited when my Dad bought us the "Video" game PONG.


I could go on and on.... Last night, I just kept thinking of all this stuff. A lifetime ago. Yet, only yesterday.

Babies aren't so Little Anymore

Here is a recent picture of my babies.  They had Winter Formals with their Sororities. Annie, on the left is 20 years old and Emily, on the right will be 22 in a couple of weeks.
Here is how I still see them though.

I know they are growing up... but sometimes I still think they are my Babies.

I remember first little boys that were important to them.

Here is Emily in Kindergarten with her friend Warren.

Here she is now,a Senior in college with her boyfriend Derek.

Here is the Baby Annie, with Chase, she's about 5 years old...

Fifteen years later with Nathan. She is his Baby now.  They had been dating for close to five years.

Where did the time fly? It seems only yesterday... And now, today, it flew so quickly.
Do you ever feel that way? Poof! Just like that.

The Pleaser

Once upon a time a baby girl was born. She didn't ask to be born, but was grateful. She was born to a Mother & a Father, that were struggling to get by along with their little girl, the Baby's older Sister. The young family struggled, but they were happy. The Big Sister loved her Baby Sister. The parents loved their daughters. But things were tough. Money was tight, the couple were young and inexperienced.

When the Baby girl was almost a year old, her parents were in a horrible accident. They survive but there were consequences. Her father was handicapped, her mother although her injuries were not severe, the emotional scars, and the burdens to follow were heavy.

The girls did not get the same care they once did. The accident changed everything. Their Mother had many new responsibilities to deal with and her time was thinned.

They survived. They made do. They were there for each other when the parents could not be. The little girls figured out the best survival skills they could find and that got them through and made them strong.

The older Sister functioned best by putting things out of her mind. She preoccupied herself with activities, friends, and life. She got thick skinned and learned to let things roll off of her without doing too much damage.

The little sister functioned best by trying to fix everything and everyone. She learned to be a "Pleaser". She tried to make others happy, comfortable and less stressed. This was not the best way to do things, especially for her, but was what she knew. It was how she coped. She always put herself last and served everyone. She learned how to be a good listener. She learned how to make others laugh. She worked hard to make others particularly, her family feel comfort. She constantly put herself in harms way (the thick of the family's dysfunction).

The family continued to have lots of problems. The parents had poor skills of how to make a better life. They would bring joy to the daughters & each other, but their long term thought process never kicked in. A good thing was always followed by a bad thing.

Depression, suicidal tendencies, drinking and blaming always interfered in this family. Growing up was difficult for the girls. Scary.

The older sister learned well that blocking the bad memories out allowed her to flourish, although things sometimes haunted her.

The younger Sister constantly tried to fix people. It carried through with her her whole life. When things went wrong she still blamed herself, as that was what she learned.

When a Pleaser allows to be a target, the arrow always finds the target. She will be blamed and take to heart any of the bad that happens.

The little Girl grow up and found ways not to be overwhelm. But she continued to try to fix and save people, animals and things.

She meet a wonderful Prince that turned her world upside down (in a good way). They had two little girls as well and were on their way to "Happily Ever After".

But the past haunts her. The present haunts her.

The girl's parents continue to have problems. They let their problems get enormous and out of control. They are in their golden years but miserable. They pour that out to the girls who want to help and have tried unsuccessfully.

One day the Girl, now a Woman, became frightened. She knew she couldn't handle it anymore. But rather than fall into the same pattern of her parents, she fought back. She let love ones know she was overwhelmed and needed help. Together with their support she was able to become strong, face her demons and realize none of it was her fault. Even when her Father tried once again to take his life, telling her that if anything happened to him it would be her fault. She got professional help and medical help. She let her daughters, who also are now adults know that it is okay, not to be able to burden the worlds problems. That when the going gets tough, you fight back.

Now, with a little something that helps her stabilize her depression, and a wonderful Therapist that makes her feel "normal", she has become a happy person. She enjoys her husband. She enjoys her daughters. She has learned to set boundaries. And best of all, understands, it's not her fault.

Even at 48, I find myself fearing the overwhelming guilt of not being able to "fix" everything. One of the parents, is again, threatening suicide. Throwing the guilt and Damning life. Amazes me that it still can grasp me and shake me up so. I am doing a really good job of keeping my head high and embracing the good things in life. I speak lovingly to the parents. I realize they haven't a clue what they do to me. I pray even harder. But... I also have made peace with myself. "I can't fix people". It's not my job, nor responsibility...

Miles Brentson Reed

A couple of weeks ago, I was honored to attend my nephew's college graduation from Depauw University. I am EXTREMELY proud of my nephew, Miles. I don't doubt that he will be a wonderful asset to society and his skills & knowledge will be beneficial to our great earth. Miles, graduated with a degree in Environmental Geo science. He is working on an Organic Farm this summer, then will travel to Washington state where he will attend Alderleaf Wilderness College. http://www.wildernesscollege.com/ How very cool is that?

Miles has the sweetiest girlfriend, Katie. I wonder how she will do with him so far. I am growing to love her as much as him, I see her bring out the best in him. She is strong and loving. She is beautiful and smart. Will she follow him out there? Will she become my niece :)? {hint-hint-Miles}

Both my nephew & niece have broaden their horizons, stepped outside the comfort zones of home & familiarity which I admire tremendously. (Kuddos to Julie & Brent for teaching them to think outside the box).

His sister, Michelle, {whom I absolutely adore}, is the niece that traveled abroad and went to Germany for a year of study and adventure. Her handsome German boyfriend will be coming to America to visit her and see this great country of ours,{as well, as visiting my sweet Michelle} at the end of the month. Which~ I am going to come meet him Chelle! I need to make sure he is good enough for you :)

The years are flying. Seems only yesterday, my girls and Miles & Michelle played joyfully and giggled through the days. You blink and wonder where the days have gone. All four have become young adults whom happen to have turned out pretty well. You hear about how proud I am of Emily & Annie all the time. But let me tell you, I am so very proud of Miles & Michelle too. I couldn't have asked for a better niece & nephew.

Way to go! I love you so much!

Never Too Old For Dolls

Some of us gals will never be too old for Dolls. I guess I am one of them. I was blessed to have Daughters and hope that I will also be blessed to have Grand-daughters one day. I still can play very nicely with dolls.

When I was four years old, I received my first "best friend". Her name was Susie. This doll went everywhere with me. My parents had a situation that caused me to have to be apart from them and my sister for several weeks. They would see me when they could, but it was not as often as a four year old wants. I stayed with a nice family, but I was so young and frightened. Very grateful that I had my Susie with me. I also experienced Chicken pox, still away from my family, clinching my Susie for comfort. There were several situations that made for a scary childhood. I love my family, and I loved my Susie too.

I hung onto her throughout the years, saving her for my own girls to one day play with. Unfortunately, she did not fair well in basement & attic storage through the years. She succumbed to mold.

My ebay buddy, Pat, & I were looking at dolls the other day as she had excitedly received her Mrs. Beasley from her husband for Valentines Day (isn't he a Sweetie?). I knew that my Susie Doll was made by Mattel, and around 1965. I did not know of her "real" name though, and have never seen her when looking up vintage dolls. Much to my surprise, she appeared on ebay as "Teachin Keen". Exclusively made for Sears. OH MY GOSH! I had to have her! Luckily no one else felt the way I did and I won her at a pretty fair market price. She is in wonderful condition, and even still talks!

She is missing one shoe, but I think my original did too. "Susie" arrived yesterday and is sitting in my office on a shelf anxiously waiting to be played with by children again one day. Until then, she will keep me company as I pound away on the keys, sharing TMI on my Blog!

ps.. great experience with this ebay seller! Luckily it wasn't the crazy one!

candy store!

The other day, I stumbled onto the Marion County Public Library website. I was impressed. I haven't belonged to a library for quite some time. I loved it for many years, but when we moved out of this county, and into another, we were not able to utilize there services as well. We are now back in Marion County!

I called on my Bestie, Sheri, for guidance, as she is the Book Guru! The girl knows books! What she does not know, she will find out. So, being a Bestie, she said, "when & where and I will meet you". So, this afternoon, to catch up, teach me about the anatomy of a library, and to find the best books, she joined me.

I got there first and started my process of becoming a member (FREE!). The librarian set me up, gave me some rules, told me my limits, I had to try to stay calm, but I swore she said I could take up to 75 books at a time and keep for 21 days. What! Sweet! She did! Not that I ever will, but dang!

I walked into the BOOKS sections and OMG! I texted Sheri. "It's a F*cking Candy Store!" She soon came around the corner and welcomed me to the candy store!

I am in HEAVEN! How could I have forgotten this wonderful haven that I loved so much as a child? Seriously, it was such a wonderful part of our upbringing, getting to go to the library every couple weeks and pick out books. I also enjoyed the Book Mobile as a pre-teener. Which was perfect because it chose to park in my cul de sac, during the summers and I could not wait for this groovy bus to pull up.

Today, I was able to get one of the books on my list. Four others that I found intriguing and two audio books to try out while I am working on spreadsheets at the office.

I wanna be a Librarian now when I grow up!