Musing my almost 60 years....

I woke up this morning sometime around 5; before my alarm went off this morning at 5:15, snuggled with Archimedes, who is a lover more than any cat I’ve ever had. While I lay there comfy and warm, I pondered time; something I ponder about a lot. It seems that we waste it; ever have enough of…never enough. I pondered where I am in my life and then I pondered the past, almost 60 years. I thought about how life changes, how my life has changed; not always because of the way I changed it, but by the way others may have changed it. I thought of instances where I thought I would “never make it out alive,” yet here I am. I thought about how I’ve grown as a person and the things which forced that growth. At times they weren’t the most pleasant things. I was able to reflect on situations I’ve passed through and felt that euphoria of a home run, touchdown or hole-in-one. And so…I reflected…

Sixty years ago at this time an incredible woman was forced to make a decision which affected my life, and the lives of a couple who had been married…not quite 10 years. The decision also affected others as well, but some didn’t know it until recently. I say “incredible” woman, because at the time, this decision would have been difficult…any decision would have been in her situation. She was unmarried with two small boys, and pregnant. Five months before I was born she married a man, who knew her secret. We’ve wondered, since he knew the situation; a situation which was filled with secrets, fright, and I’m sure frustration and confusion, IF he didn’t use some sort of blackmail…but no one knows as she has been gone for five years now. She was afraid to tell her family and friends. She must have felt so alone. So, she signed the papers three days after I was born and gave me to a couple who had no children. Now I’ve carried and given birth to four children. I love them with all of my heart. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them. The love you would have to have, to want more for your child than the life they would have had, had they stayed, must be great. To be so unselfish and to sacrifice your feelings for that of your child, to know they were in a better place.

Fifty years ago at this time, we had moved again. This would have been my 7^th move; having gone from California to four places in Hawaii, then to two homes in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I had a step-father now, was extremely shy and introverted. My step-father was not a fan of my shyness, or of me. I showed signs of musical awareness, and a piano was purchased, as were books. I proceeded to teach myself how to play, playing progressively harder pieces as I could. I also started sewing; to power to create something, and wear it took over. I had been “designing” clothing for my paper dolls and Barbie’s for about two years. I didn’t “play” with them, I merely designed their wardrobes. I LOVED it…couldn’t get enough of it. And so, an obsession began. When I grew up I wanted to be a teacher, an actress, a singer and dancer, a race car driver, a designer, and a mother with two boys and two girls.

Forty years ago I had moved 6 more times; from New Mexico, to San Diego to Torrance, then to Grand Junction, Colorado, to Albuquerque and then to Malibou Lake…near Agoura, California. I attended 14 schools before graduating in 1973. After several, how shall we say, turns of events, my dad was back with us again. That in itself was a long story for another time. I loved driving to the beach, or the “Valley.” I was a loner…another LONG story for another time. I was almost 20.  Did I mention I wanted to go to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA??? Hmmmm….that was vetoed as well. “Girls didn’t go to college…they get married…double hmmmm…….

My wedding was being planned, and for the most part, not by me. It was to take place 5 July 1075. THIS is what I was really reflecting on the most this morning. Bruce was in San Antonio, Texas for boot camp, and then went off to Chanute, Illinois for fire training. He was going to be home at the end of June for a week, and then we were to go wherever the Air Force deemed we should.

So…the wedding plans. Our wedding colors were Red, White, and Blue, being as the wedding was the day after the Fourth of July. We had taken photos before Bruce left, so the 350 invitations just needed to be ordered and addressed…yes, I did them all. I designed an incredible dress, which was vetoed by the powers that be. It was incredible though. I’m sure I still have the drawings somewhere. Flowers were picked out and a cake. The whole wedding was surrounded by bitterness, resentment and disaster, and the fact that Bruce came back “different” than when he left, just didn’t sit well with me. I told my mom that I “didn’t think I was doing the right thing.” That was vetoed as well.

We were married on the 5^th and were two of the last five people to leave the Clubhouse...it needed to be cleaned up that night. SO, there I was in my wedding dress, taking down decorations, etc…and it just got worse from there. OHHHH….I forgot to mention that I threw up just before we got married…another story for another time. We went to some dumb motel in Thousand Oaks…so tired and went to bed. It was 2 AM when we got there. I looked frightful…my hair was trashed…we’d been cleaning for about 2 hours. The next few days we were packing things up to move. There was still animosity and bitterness, which wasn’t making our lives too easy. BUT we were ready to leave on the 7^th so that we would be in Wichita Falls, Texas…Sheppard Air Force Base so Bruce could report on the 9th. It was one of the worst trips I’d ever been on. Driving from LA to Wichita Falls in less than two days…straight through…sleeping in the cab of his 1954 Ford F-150. That WHOLE trip is a story in itself…and definitely for another time. We were only here for one year, then we were off to Nellis Air Force Base. Did I mention I wanted to go to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA??? Hmmmm….that was vetoed as well. “Girls didn’t go to college…they get married…double hmmmm…….

Thirty years ago…probably “THE DARKEST” time of my life…and it continued to get darker and darker. I had four incredible children…don’t know what I would do without them. I didn’t reflect much on this…hate going there. It was half my life ago…wow. Did I mention I wanted to go to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA??? Hmmmm….that was vetoed as well. “Girls didn’t go to college…they get married…double hmmmm…….

Twenty years ago. What a hot mess. My children were 13, 15, 16 and 18. Did I mention I wanted to go to the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising in LA? Well, it didn’t matter. I designed so many costumes and clothes for the kids that my dream was sort of filled…sort of. I found that there IS light after darkness…there is that light, if you seek it. I found myself. I found what I had never known was there. I found ME. I found out who I was and what was important. I came out of the unknown and bloomed. I emerged from the darkness because I searched for a light and found it. After questioning everything and I mean everything, I spent time trying to figure things out. I haven’t figured it all out, BUT I know what I know.

Fifteen years ago I decided to do something about my life. My children were on their own and I needed to fill a void. I decided to go to college. Yes sir…I was forty-five, in classes with fellow students who graduated with my children, taking any and every night and summer class available. I was also working a full-time job in a school district, a part-time job at Michaels, and five semi part-time jobs with various caterers. My life was busy and after the first semester, I realized how much I LOVED learning and excelled. I loved my classes. Maybe one day I will finish those six classes and receive my degrees…

Ten years ago was probably my BEST birthday to date. That in itself is a fun story…for another time. BUT at 50 I decided changes were in order. I’d made some decisions ten years before, and while there were some good things which came of them, there were some which weren’t. I needed to regroup. I took a road trip with my cousin Debbie. We drove from her home in Utah to my home in Missouri…then we took a trip to Illinois. We laughed, cried, talked about life and memories. The time we spent together was priceless. It was the best therapy for both of us. We saw things and places we both treasure, AND then we crafted.

A year ago Debbie and I went to Disneyland with the Burkholder Band. It was a lot of fun we did some crazy things and reminisced about when we went to Disneyland for our birthdays in 1960. She and I share the same birthday. I was deathly ill at the time and had no clue. I just knew I didn’t feel well. I progressively got worse, and it wasn’t until the summer that I found out just how sick I really was. I am so thankful to those who helped me through that whole mess.

And so we are to the somewhat recent present period of my life. I will be 60 in a little over a month. This is NOT where I thought I would be at this time in my life. I thought I would still be happily married with oodles of grandchildren, a nice home with many gardens, enjoying life; crafting, sewing, quilting, painting, traveling, etc. Alas, that isn’t the case. I ponder my present status frequently. Don’t get me wrong. I am SO blessed. I am near ALL of my children and the “friends” they have brought in to our family. I have two adorable, smart, incredible grandchildren. I LOVE my family. I have two jobs and enjoy my coworkers and what I do…but this isn’t where I thought I would be. I’m not upset that this is where I am, I just thought things would be different.

I have no idea what the future holds. I do know that in three days I’ll be in Disneyland; I’ve planned things out and even though I will be flying solo, other than the bus load of kids and other chaperones, I know that I will be fine. I’m looking forward to it, more pondering. And by this time next week it will be part of my memories.

That’s the way it is with time…it passes whether we are ready or not. We can’t stop time or hold it still. Over time I’ve come to realize that everything happens for a reason. No, I don’t know what they are, BUT I do know that were it not for all of the things which happened in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am today. All of these things, and those I haven’t even touched on, but thought about, had to happen. I’m thankful. All of it has blessed me in some way. Make the most of the time you have. Time is the most valuable commodity we receive every day. Treasure it.

I’m also glad I set my alarm far enough ahead that I am able to lie in bed and ponder life.

Nature vs. Nuture...it's intesting...

Having been adopted is interesting in many ways. It wasn't a big deal growing up; I knew, but...so what...
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.