I felt different, but wouldn't be able to explain it.
Then when I started having children, things began to change. I won't say I "changed," but became more aware. More aware of WHO I was, what I was, what I liked, my characteristics, my looks, my attitude towards life, my understanding of things...my traits, talents, abilities, style, personality, etc. I could see some of them in my children...and see more and more all the time.
The first time I met my birth mother, I became MORE aware of me...and where I came from and who I was. She wasn't in the "happiest" of situations, but she "made" it the happiest she could. She made the best of what life gave her. She loved children, planting things, puzzles, math, sports, cars, doing things. She loved life. She was positive.
Meeting my siblings gave me even more understanding. I found out how she handled situations, what she gave to life.
As I've watched my children over the years, I see these hereditary traits in them...and now in my grandchildren.
There are also patterns in life. Some may be through nature...some through nurture. I've worked hard to get rid of the things which were, and at times are, a part of my life. Not going to go in to all of that; being positive is something I strive for, so I'm going to stay in that vein.
I don't know when I learned to color...so I'm guessing it was before I was threeish. I guess "crayons" have been around since the middle 1600's. They are one of my favorite ways to "make" art...colored pencils, watercolor pencils and paint are the others. Markers...no.
Today I thought I would do something I think is FUN...I took several "difficult" as opposed to child type, coloring pages over to my moms, with a brand new box of 50 colored pencils. It's something that was suggested for adults with dementia...for many reasons, so I thought I would give it a go. Especially since I LOVE to color.
Well....it seems that my positiveness and her negativeness don't always see eye to eye. On the walk to her room she told four people she "wished she was dead" so I knew I would have my work cut out for me. Once we got to her place, I showed her the pictures...and the box of colored pencils. She was impressed with all of the colors and couldn't believe how many there were. I showed her each paper; I think I brought a dozen different ones, flowers, tropical fish, an antique doll, butterfly, owl, sun/moon/stars, Indian pot, etc. I told her the reasons for coloring and was met with a "hmmmmm...."
I began to color the one with the tropical fish. I encouraged her to pick a picture and a colored pencil and see what it does.
"Well, what's it supposed to do?"
"How about picking a color and see...again I encourage her.
"I don't know what color to pick."
"Well, pick a picture, and go from there."
"I'm not an artist. I can't do this. I don't know what to do."
"Mom...that's the beauty of this. You can do this any way you want. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to look a certain way. You are creating what ever you want."
She picks up one of the greens...and slowly begins...under her breath comes "what a waste of time..."
"I'm sorry you feel that way. I was merely trying to find something fun to do."
Silence...and I'm coloring...and she is to...sort of...then she finds a picture with flowers and decides to do that one...
"I don't remember what color to make these flowers."
"Mom...there are 50 colors here, unless you want to blend them...then there are even more colors. Just pick a color you would like them to be."
"I don't know how to color."
"Mom...you used to oil paint, do you remember that?"
"No...well, I remember copying something someone else did."
"Well, you can do that with coloring too. But didn't you color as a child?"
"When would I have had time. I was the oldest daughter and there was too much work."
"But grandma, your mother, went to school to be a teacher...didn't she teach you things?"
"No. She didn't have time. Well, she might have. I don't know."
"Well, let me teach you a few things. Take this picture I'm doing. The fish are under the water...down near the ocean floor. It's dark down there, depending on how deep it is. The sun shines down from the top. SO, the things at the top of the picture will be lighter than the things at the bottom. The underside of the fish will be darker than the top of the fish." All the time I'm coloring to show her what I'm talking about.
She takes another pencil and starts again...under her breath comes, "I can't do this..."
"Yes you can...but you have to want to try."
"What am I going to do with it when I'm done?"
"I'm not sure, how about we wait until we get there."
And so we colored for about 1/2 an hour or so and then it was time to go eat.
I don't know where this whole coloring thing will go, but it's supposed to relieve stress, take your mind from your "problems and just be good for you.
I sat an pondered how different the two of us are. I have been a part of her life for almost 60 years. We are so completely different in our outlooks on life. We have both endured each other. She has always been prim and proper and raised me that way. I'm not saying I don't appreciate a snappy outfit where the belt, purse, shoes and hat all match and the ensemble is perfectly matched with the dress, and gloves...and a perfectly coiffed hair-do. I do. But give me my jeans and a t-shirt...or sweats once in a while. I'm not saying I don't know my table manners...I learned them, and use them. BUT sometimes shooting a straw paper at the person down the table from you is just plain fun!!! Especially IF it's a grandchild. I appreciate a clean, neat and tidy home; a "place for everything and everything in it's place," BUT there are times when I am in a creative mood, and I MUST make a mess. It's imperative that I make a mess. AND I may leave that mess out for two or three days...get over it. I'm doing it. She would have a cow and make sure my bedroom door was shut at ALL times. BUT it didn't thwart my creativity. I LOVE a perfect yard...but a weed will let my neighbors not feel so intimidated by me. Maybe even two. I LOVE to bake and cook...especially to share it once I'm done. She sees it as work and drudgery.
I think one of the biggest shocks to her system is when I came home covered in black motor oil. I was dating Bruce at the time...he had just blown a rod in his truck engine, something that happened quite frequently with that straight 6. I had wanted to take auto shop at school, BUT girls weren't allowed to do that when I went to school....SO...this was the next best thing. Anyway, that night, after working most of the day on the truck engine, I came home covered with black motor oil. I thought she would die...BUT I had more fun, and over the years learned more about engines, transmissions, taking them apart, putting them back together, learning about cams, cranks, pistons, piston rings, push rods, valves and seating them. I learned about heads, intake manifolds and exhaust manifolds. That there are small blocks; 221 cu-351 modified Windsor, and big blocks 352 cu - 429 cu...which are the ones I prefer. OH anyway, working on cars became something I enjoyed and loved. Just trying to figure out "why" a car isn't working right...listening to each particular noise...and THEN fixing it. Nevertheless, this wasn't what she thought was right for me.
I love to play all kinds of games; she learned golf, bowling, bridge and pinochle. Very social games. While I didn't learn bridge or pinochle, I learned many other card games, as well as golf and bowling. I LOVED watching football...she hates it. I watched Wide World of Sports with my dad on the weekends. He and I talked about all kinds of things. I knew what they were talking about and what was going on. It was great. We had things to talk about.
Yes, as we sat there coloring, I thought about how different we are. Even though she raised me, and I know everything she taught me, I became "ME." I also began to realize just how much she has had to put up with. I wanted a part of EVERYTHING. I wanted to experience ALL of life. I wanted to learn everything I could...nothing holding me back. I didn't want to be a little cookie cutter woman who did what she was told and could never make choices for herself. I wanted more. Maybe I was possessed with a spirit which couldn't be tamed...it's fine with me. BUT I broke that mold. I acted the way I was supposed to, used my manners, spoke properly, was "seen but not heard" and did not work to conform. I was a complete nonconformist...and it works for me...it SO works for me.
As I was raising my children, she knew giving me any advice would never fly. She never gave any freely. I did ask once, and she said she didn't know what to do...so, I figured it out.
I love her, I care about her. We are as different as night and day. I am glad I know her. I'm glad I know me. I'm glad she is here...and that we can continue to share our differences.
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