Category: Memoirs

May 29

Seven Ways from Sunday

I guess I’ll address Meditations first.  I have run into a strange section of Discovering Fire.  Apparently, there is a resurgence of Psychedelics in various parts of the country.  Out of curiosity, I searched for psychedelic drugs in Google and found many references, including one from Harvard Health Publishing  that agree, somewhat, with the book.  From what I read, I don’t think it will be something that affects me any time soon.

Next up is Memoirs, I guess.  Jim is trying to rope me into his Ancestry researches.  Apparently, he needs help badly.  Since he’s been concentrating on the Pearson side, I looked at the Moore side first.  It was a mess.  Before I can look backward on Mama, I find that I need to straighten out her generation.  I’m still trying to sort out the fact that he forgot Uncle Willard was married twice and three of his children were from the first marriage.  He had them all listed under Aunt Theda, in spite of the fact that she was only 7 years old when the oldest one was born.  I’m trying to find more information on his first wife and get his record straightened out.  Jim says it’s addictive.  We’ll see.  So far, it just seems frustrating to me.

Finally, Health and Exercise.  I’m going to try to follow my workout schedule this week.  I’m still refining it, but the skeleton is there.  Since this is the first full week of no school pickups, today is the first day of my current lifestyle.  Today, is Yoga and I’ve set it up for an afternoon session with some of my videos.  Tomorrow will be walking since I’ll be going into town for the photo club lunch.

It’s kind of strange that we still call it that although the photo club was disbanded before that pandemic and topics of discussion at the luncheon are more about trains, sports, and general gossip than photography nowadays.  As for photography, I watched a video that Jim shared on the old photo club Facebook page today.  It’s a link to a Youtube video.  I’ve done a lot of the things all along, but it’s a good reminder as I get ready for our June trip to Washington State.

0
comments

Nov 22

History Update

It’s been several years since I wrote my history.  I guess it’s time for an update:

First of all, we lost Davie.  He died several years ago while mowing the lawn.  He was a force for good in all our lives and we still miss him.  

Next my grandchildren have been busy having children.  I now have more great grandchildren than grandchildren.  Some that live close by and are a regular part of my life, others that are far away and seldom visited and, sadly, a couple that I’ve never met.  I think everyone is through adding to the list now.  In ten years or so, my “littles” will probably begin to add children of their own.

Next, Jim and I are trying to “retire” again.  We’ve stopped taking new clients and are, gradually, divesting ourselves of the current ones.

Covid didn’t affect us much.  We “battened down the hatches” for a year or so.  Stayed home and let our younger members deliver our groceries.  Did church online.  I helped a couple of my great grandchildren do their schoolwork online as well.  None of our family died or even went to the hospital.  In fact, none of us even got a positive diagnosis until after we were all vaccinated and the worst of the pandemic was over.

I had a cancer scare that required surgery to remove a tumor in my intestines.  It was clear afterwards, but I’ve been diagnosed with Lymphoma.  It’s the slow growing kind and, so far, it hasn’t progressed.  I am getting regular checkups for the first time in my life and we’ll see how long it stays dormant.  The doctor says he’s watched some people for five years before they needed treatment.

Since Covid, our travels have been limited. This year, we went to South Dakota to visit my grandson, Brad, and his family.  We did also take an excursion to Mammoth Cave, here in Kentucky.

Hopefully, we will be able to spend more time traveling next year.  We are planning a trip to North Carolina in the spring and to Jim’s photojournalist reunion sometime in the summer or fall.

0
comments

Nov 06

It’s New Year’s Day

It’s the first day of my new year.  Another way of thinking about Birthdays.  I am nearly 75, 3/4 of a century.  I say nearly, because I was born at 5pm and it’s only 3pm at the moment. 

It’s hard to believe.  Most days, I don’t feel it.  I feel, basically, the same as I did at 45, except for a few minor aches in my shoulders and hips.  I know that’s because I have gotten lazy this past year.  I haven’t been getting nearly enough exercise lately.  

So, thinking of today as the first day of MY year, here are my resolutions:  

  1. Walk, at least, 1 mile every other day.
  2. Do Yoga, pilates or some other type of stretching and strengthening exercise on the alternate days.
  3. Write, at least, 500 words on some topic every day. Even if I never publish it, I need it to keep my mind active.
  4. Be more patient with unruly children, not more permissive, just less impatient.
  5. Spend more time reading than playing games.  Both help with cognitive health, but reading has other beneficial features.
  6. Concentrate on getting my budget under control.
  7. And the last thing on my list, as usual, clean the house more often.

I plan to make that 100 mark with physical strength and mental alertness intact.  My children already have grown children, I have great grandchildren who will be reaching for their 30s by then.  I expect to hold the next generation in my arms before I leave here.

 

 

0
comments

Apr 30

Uncle Davie

 My brother, Davie, had no children of his own.  He was never married.  But, he provided a father figure for all my children and grandchildren and he was starting on the third generation.  Uncle Davie was the wall at all our backs.

Our father was always there for all of us, no matter what.  We could go out with confidence knowing that whenever things got tough, he would be there for us.  Even if we screwed up big time after he had tried to warn us, there’d be no “tough love” lecture or recriminations.   He’d just fix it and let us start over.  Never once, in all our lives, not even for a second, did any of us doubt his love.  Davie soaked that attitude deep inside and made it the center of his nature. 

He began his lifetime of service when he came back from Vietnam shortly before the birth of my middle daughter.  We were all living with Mom and Daddy. There were only three bedrooms and one bath.  It was crowded.  My other three brothers shared a room.  I shared the second room with my three older children.  My oldest daughter, Chrystal, slept in my bed.  Her two older brothers, Bill and Tom, slept on the bottom of a set of homemade double bunk beds.  When Davie came home, he took the top bunk.  When my second daughter, Jeanne, was born, we squeezed her bassinette into the corner at the end of my bed.  I rarely had to get up with her in the middle of the night because Davie always heard her before I did and had her changed, fed, and back to sleep in no time.  In 1972, that was almost unheard of in a father, much less an uncle.

When our father died, Davie was still living at home and he stayed there. While the rest of us made separate lives, Eddie being himself, Dannye and I married with families of our own, Jim traveling the world with the Air Force, Davie stayed with Mama.  He helped her with the bills, the heavy housework, and the yardwork.  That was his life. 

When Jeanne moved from Charlotte, NC back to Madisonville with her two daughters, he spread his wings over them as well.  When Mama began to fail, he took care of her at home as long as he could. When the decision was finally made to put her in a rest home for her own safety, I moved back here too and he expanded his reach.  

As the years passed, he played father figure to all of my grandchildren, just as he had to my children.  He taught them, by example, what a man should be: strong, non-judgemental, reliable, but also gentle.  I’m not saying he was perfect.  He gambled and could be stubborn about doing things his own way.  There were times when the male chauvinistic attitude of his youth would rear its head and he’d really get on my feministic nerves.  But, he never held a grudge and was so soft hearted, he often seemed to let people take advantage of him.  

He was our rock, the wall at our backs. Whenever there was a problem, it was Uncle Davie we all called. He died yesterday without any warning. We are all stunned.  The hole he has left in our lives will take a long time to close.  Our only comfort is the fact that he went quickly and didn’t have to spend months or years wasting away like our mother, father, and older brother did.  He was reasonably healthy and happy until the very end.  We know he is in heaven with them now.  He certainly deserves it if anyone ever could.

3
comments

Apr 21

Taking Stock

Terri McCarty Jones, a friend of mine from church, recently asked a series of questions on Facebook:

“Just curious. How many of you feel that you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing with your life? Do you have a career or a calling or a combination of the two? Is there something else you wish you would have done other than what you are doing now? What factors charted your course?

Working with the high school CYF and knowing they are going to be going forth into the world and making decisions that will impact their futures makes me curious as to how many of us are overall truly satisfied with what we are doing with our lives. I’m sure some of you took a circuitous route to get where you are now while others seem to have known from childhood the path to take. Any wisdom shared will be greatly appreciated!”

I found it an interesting topic for conversation and decided to present it to a wider audience.  I personally, wanted nothing except to be a wife and mother when I was a teenager.  I said no when a friend of my mother’s offered to pay for me to go to college.  My mother thought I should be a teacher, which was her dream that was interrupted by the Great Depression.  Her friend had no children and was well off.  I had always made good grades in school and they thought I should have a career.  I wasn’t the least bit interested.  Instead, the summer between my sophomore and junior years of high school, I got married.  Two years later, I graduated just one month before the birth of my first son.  

I was set on the path I had planned for myself and even the divorce that came ten years and three children later didn’t alter that goal.  I found a job, but I also started shopping for a new husband, almost immediately.  Wife and mother was what society told me I should want to be, when I was growing up, and it was all I could see then.  Why waste all that time and effort in college and building a career, to just turn it off when I got married?  Why not just get married and be done with it?

Back then, even girls who went to college were expected to be looking for husbands along the way.  We were fully indoctrinated to be wife and mother.  Things have changed somewhat since then, but we still hear a lot about “biological clocks,” the search for “the perfect mate,” and the new goal of “having it all.”  

While those of us who grew up with limited expectations may be looking around and wishing we had all the possibilities that are now available, things today are much more confusing for young people.  That includes boys as well as girls.  In those “good ole days,” young men were expected to follow in the footsteps of their elders.  If they couldn’t manage a college education, their father, uncle, or family friend would get them a low level job with their own employer, so that the youngster could “learn a trade.”  I suppose that still happens to an extent, but attitudes are much different than they used to be.

Today, young people feel a pressure to decide for themselves what career they want.  A daunting task for someone whose biggest decision to date has been what to wear to school and which movie to see on the weekend.   They are told, “You can be anything you want to be, if you are willing to work for it.”  It sounds good to those of us who had limited choices.  I’m sure, it can be scary to someone who is faced with that broader decision.   I have watched many young people try to decide which way to go and they tend to fail.  They will, mostly, give up on their “dream job” and settle for what they can find in the real world.  There just aren’t that many positions open for Rock Stars or Ballerinas.  Major league sports teams don’t have room for every child who loves to play.  Fashion designers are few in number and far away from middle America.  In the final analysis, most kids have to “settle” for something along the way and “find themselves” later.  

There came a time when I realized that I wasn’t really cut out to be “wife.”  It required a level of submission to the needs of a partner that I couldn’t accept.  I gave up that dream.  Mommy isn’t something you can resign from, but it is a temporary job.  The day comes when those precious little toddlers become rebellious teenagers who don’t want or need a “mom” hanging around all day.   You still maintain the title, but the duties become more or less honorary.  

As a single mother, I had found jobs I could do.  None of them were my “dream job.”  By the time I found what that could have been, the children were more important and the two were incompatible.  It is very difficult to become a Systems Analyst, who travels to distant parts of the country for weeks or months at a time designing and setting up new computer systems, with youngsters in school.  

I turned my attention to more sensible jobs, still within my field of interest, and went on with my life.  Eventually, my lack of formal education limited my opportunities for advancement even in those positions.  So, I retired from my “job” and went back to school.  More than 40 years after I graduated high school, I finally found a use for college.  

It was while taking basic requirement courses, that I discovered my true passion, a love of writing.  I had always loved to read and was in awe of the ability of some writers to tell a story.  While I never kept a formal journal, I knew that I sometimes needed to put my thoughts down on paper.  I always found it easier to write than to talk.  I just never considered making it a career.  My English professors were very encouraging.  Even those courses that weren’t really about writing required essays, term papers, and research.  I came to love research.  It’s still one of my favorite pastimes.  

I may never become a paid author, certainly not a well-known or “best selling” one.  But it doesn’t matter.  I am retired now.  I get by financially.  More money would be nice, but it isn’t a goal.  I just like writing.  I now spend my days between “mothering” my great grandchildren and writing: blog posts, a prayer journal, plans for a couple of novels that will probably never see the light of day.  It doesn’t matter.  The joy is in the creation of words, sentences, paragraphs, pages of text.  The telling of the story, true or imaginary, is the thing.  

So, I guess my answer to the above questions would be: Yes, I am doing exactly what I should be doing with my life.  It is a combination of a part of my original goal and what I found along the way.  I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had been able to make different choices when I was young.  

In college, I also discovered a love of Physics.  I’m not sure I have the mental acuity to have made it a career but, if I had been exposed to it in high school, I might have accepted that opportunity to go to college.  Even if Physics didn’t work out, I might have discovered my love of writing in time to have made that a lifetime career.  Either of those possibilities would have made my life very different. Better?  There’s no way to know.  But, I can’t wish for it.  After all, that would wish away my five children, all my grandchildren and my precious greats.  I can’t even wish away my two failed marriages for the same reason.  

My life went as it should.  I didn’t know when I was 15 how it would turn out.  No one can.  All you can do is the next thing.  Expose yourself to as many paths as possible.  Take the one in front of you, but watch for side branches.  You never know what you’ll find along the way.

How about you?  Join the conversation.  Leave a comment below.  

 

1
comments

Follow

Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: