What I really want to say..............

So my life has been about just making it work. If someone throws lemons my way..............lemonade it is. Its hard when someone mistreats my daughter. I make it all better, but it still hurts her. Her father I know loves her, but he does not know how to show it. He perceives her in such a different light than how she really is. She is full of light, full of love.........just beginning her life really as an adult. He remarried and has a child, and that world seems to be the only world he cares about. He and his wife keep trying to make it right how they treat my daughter.............and that is very badly. I have always moved on from troubles, masking them and keeping my daughter happy. What he doesn't give her I do, when he hurts her, I make it right. Even since she was a pre-teen they treat her as if she is on an adult level, meaning that they think she hurts like them, or rationalizes like an adult. They think she knows how to manipulate like they do, and put crazy scenarios into place, making her out to be a mean person. Its hard not to go over to them and shake them and say STOP!! Stop hurting my daughter, we get it, you don't want any part of her. You want an excuse to have her out of your life.......stop just leave her alone. Stop hurting her to make it ok to not be a part of her life. Stop....please just stop!!!

In shape & Out of shape

I try to title this nicely, but we all know what I really mean.......Are we fat or are we not! I see a much different world since I gained weight. Do we belong in a world who hates fat people? Doors that were open have closed..............attention that was given, (and trust me it was alot!) has know dwindled. Some parts of me are happy about that. We strive to look good and feel good, but outside forces make it impossible to enjoy. Negative attention from men; nasty comments from women..............am I happier with or without weight.........the verdict is still out on this. I want to look good, but at what price. Does it matter what you look like after 40? The world caters to the young..............so I don't really know the answer to this question. Most of my life I was very entwined in looking good. That seemed to be more important than having a personality....though I always had both lol! It was hard being myself though, when people only looked at your outer appearance. I laugh when I meet new people who never knew me before. They expect me to be insecure due to my appearance, I say this as if I am hideous. I am not, I just know that there is a certain expectation of looking good, and if I am not at my best I am hard on myself. They are amazed that they cannot knock me down, I am not. I know what I am made of. Fat or skinny I am who I am , and btw it took a long time for me to realize this. I see the difference of how people perceive me that know me only after I gained. I look at them and know, so I have that on them......I know how shallow they really are, and they don't matter. People who look at what you have inside are the only people that I respect or care to know at this point in life...............

Dreams.........have they gone?

When do you realize that your dreams have died. Do you continuously keep moving along, diverting troubles and then one day you wake up and realize you don't even know what your dreams were? All the "next times" seem like they are not coming back........Its a feeling I don't ever want my daughter to feel. People say I pamper her, well they don't know what I have been through. I feel as if I am a very positive person for the life I have lived. I have no control how others treat her, but I will always be the best mom, best mentor and best friend she can have. I want her to aim for the moon and get the universe!

My family doctor said that its a ME world. How do you get along in it, when you love to help. I don't see anyone wanting to do that anymore. Did they ever? Was I always the one who put the hand out, and didn't look for theirs? Is this what they call a mid-life crisis? I am happy with life, just wondering if the struggles get any easier?

Simple Beginnings

Born in the 1960's, times were simple then. But you wonder....did my parents think that way? What they had, and the struggles they went through could feel as difficult as the struggles we all feel now. I have written this story in my mind several times a month over the past 10-15 years. It always starts the same, but I never have put it down on paper. I do have a photographic memory, but at some time I may lose that, so I better get this thing going.............. My mother was filled with dreams and expectations of what life would be. My father always had another agenda.......I am the third child born and the third daughter. I am much different than my sisters. I can see that even now. Born in Brooklyn, my mother was a Brooklyn native. My father was from Kentucky. I know what you are thinking......how.....why??? lol. My father was in the Navy, so his travels brought him to many a port. My mother an only child, her father an Irish immigrant, her mother an orphan from Austria. My father was the oldest of seven born to I always say decendents of the Mayflower......Violet and Cardith. Born from very meak beginnings in Jenkins Kentucky. Lets start from how they met. The story is vague due to my mother passing away only at 35. Details came in dribs and drabs. My Godmother Katherine introduced them, her husband who is my Godfather may have also been in the navy. (By the way, I wish I could contact them....with facebook, internet and all the tools to contact people, I have never been able to find them...and that is my forte'! There is always the thought they may not be around anymore either..) My mother loved his guitar playing, how my Grandmother put it.....with a sarcastic flair......she loved his Geetar playing. No love lost between them.......according to my Grandmother, who by the way only had one daughter/child, my mother......blamed my father for her passing. I only have a few pictures of their marriage/honeymoon. Pictures of my mother and father up in the mountains of Virginia. I wonder to myself though, how many women fell for his charm......I know of a few. But thats to come later...............

Like I said the details are not clear, but my mother and father eloped. I wish I know the details, because as fate would have it.........my 2 sisters and my brother all followed in their footsteps. We all eloped........the first time around.

My sister was born in Brooklyn, the first child of my parents. Their next child born in Philly, I am assuming this was due to my father being in the Navy. I then was born in Brooklyn. Who knew at this point, but not many months before another child was born to my father. The story is he was with another woman while having problems with my mother. He bore two children in the same year, two girls. She was born in NJ. You will see as we go along, my father had a trail of children. My brother who was the last for my mother was also born in NJ.

Lets start out after the birth of my brother, that is when my memory is fresh in my mind.

We lived in NJ. Life for me was great. Very little needs at that time, a tricycle, tv and friends. My world was very small. I only remember the block we lived on, and maybe small travels in the car to the store and walks up to the turnpike to shop and to watch the parades......if I remember correctly, there were alot of them! Maybe because there were many pictures of them...........I wonder where those pictures are now. We had wonderful friends in the small radius of my life there. The Butlers were wonderful, they lived across the street. They had 3 children, all my sisters ages or older. I remember their dog ( I think his name was buttons) and the grape vine growing in their backyard. We would always sneak one or two to eat while playing. The houses were small and very close together. Very similar to Long Island NY, where I reside. The separation of houses are the driveways. I suppose that would be considered a suburb of Philly. Its amazing the very small things in life that make you so happy, why can't that same feeling be felt as we grow older. Why do we need such big things to make us happy. We work so hard to make money to buy things, and back when we were small something like a grapevine full of ripe grapes, or a lick from a dog was all we needed. Where and when do we learn to unappreciate the small things and only react to the big things...............very sad when you really think about it......... MORE TO COME>..............

Continued -12.13.20

There are flashes of memories on that small all American suburb. Watching Batman & Robin, playing it with my next door neighbor Davey Clishem. The tricycle was out batmobile, the one my dad would accidentally run over one day. Funny I knew would happen but I never saw the after affects of it.  Those days as children didn’t know as much as the kids know now. We would only hear small blurbs of issues and arguments that were going on. Not knowing what the real deep details were. Sad to say these days kids know everything and hear everything. 

The days of Runnemede New Jersey as I mentioned my memory is full and it’s clear as a bell on the memories that I do have of it. Green grass freshly mowed lots of children playing. Taking rides in the Corvair which sounded like an airplane motor the whole car vibrated. Glimpses of being in the supermarket and begging to put money in that wonderful glass concoction for a toy or come or any kind of candy for that matter. Memories of my dad‘s parents and brother coming to stay with us. Miraculously a puppy would arrive to our house that we loved so much her name was Penny. That was the best day of our little selves lives getting that beautiful dog. Memories I’ve playing outside getting stung by multiple hornets while digging in the mud. Our neighbors next-door all I remember is a brick house with large hedges. The Rudders, their daughter Helen lived with them I believe she was a schoolteacher. When your small like that everyone seems incredibly kind and larger than life. 

Small bits of my dad’s rage came through every now and then. Memories of us all being in trouble when something occurred and no one would fess up to it. The dresser drawer handle that was spun around and scratched up the wood. A little bit of memories of my mom being upset but not knowing why. 

Things were different back then I remember being in the backseat of the car by myself in front of the hospital my mom had given birth to my brother. I was hiding per his orders in the car alone waiting for my dad to pick up my mom and my brother from the hospital. I was only four years old I was I allowed to be in a car by myself? And those days my dad smoked cigars so all the windows would be close and I just remember the sick smell of it, with all the children inside -I suppose secondhand smoke wasn’t known back then. 

Being that young I just have flashes of memories of different things that occurred. Being yelled out sent to my room and crying myself to sleep. I felt like I was always waiting for my sisters to get home from school-no real memories of actually playing with them. I remember damn mouse trap and my mom had to go back to the store because they were missing pieces. I’m sure at that point in life things like that were very far and few between not like these days we can just buy it from Amazon and have it in a couple days sometimes even one day. 

By the time I was four we moved to a brand new suburban dream -Willingboro New Jersey. It was true blue suburbia. 10 different developments each with their own elementary school and wonderful swimming pools. Truly wonder years world it was