MEAN OLD LADY

Today I went to lunch at Golden Corral with Tammy and Kadyn. At the table next to us was this little old lady with a walker. She looked to be about 90 or so. She was with her son who musta been in his late 60's. And she was so mean to him!

When they first sat down, he offered to get her food for her. She bitchily said, "Why, I always have to do everything for myself." Then he said he had to go to bathroom and would be right back. While he was gone, she took her walker and got a plate. When she tried to fill it, she kept dropping everything off it onto the floor. Her son came back and took her plate. Nicely told her to go sit down and he'd bring her food. To which she replied, "Do I look like I'm helpless?" (yes, she did.)

All through the meal, she constantly complained and berated him. She didn't like the food he had brought (but she'd told him what she wanted), She didn't like the shirt he was wearing...She dreaded the drive home because he didn't know how to drive...on and on and on. I never heard her say one pleasant or nice word to him throughout their meal. I never saw her smile even once.

It was dreadful! I felt sorry for the poor son, and even sorrier for the old lady. Old age is hard enough without being bitter and unhappy. I think we have a choice there. We can choose to be bitter because we're old and unhealthy...or we can accept it and make the best of it. I would
much prefer to laugh than to cry. Oh, I'm not above feeling sorry for myself on occassion, but God help me if I ever treat anyone the way that lady treated her son!

DON'T LET THE THINGS YOU CAN'T DO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE THINGS YOU CAN DO. (my motto)

GRANNY

Lately, my grandmother (Granny), Polly (Fitchpatrick) Shepherd has been much on my mind. Kinda strange, don't you think, since she's been gone January 9, 1973 ..thirty-seven years, yet it seems like just last week when she called me and asked me to come to Ypsilanti for Thanksgiving...her last one. That, in itself, was an oddity. Although, Granny'd had a telephone since about 1955, I bet I could count on one hand all the times she had initiated a phone call. She didn't even like to talk on it when I called her...giving short answers to my questions.."how are you doing, Granny?"... (I'm fine)..."What have you been doing, Granny?" ..(nothing).

That's how our conversations on the phone always went. Me asking, her giving short, terse answers. I'd end by saying, "I love you, Granny. See you soon." (Okay) and she'd hang up.


So, you can imagine my surprise when I answered the phone the Sunday evening before Thanksgiving, and it was Granny. Our conversation went something like this, "Hello"..Lorraine, is that you?...Granny!! yes, it's me. How are you?....I'm okay. Thursday is Thanksgiving.....yes, I know.....what are you doing for dinner.....going to Mom and Dad's....why don't you come up and have dinner with your old granny?.....and, in utter shock at both the phone call and the invitation...I calmly said...Granny, I'd love to!....then she said, come early so you can cook dinner. I'll put the turkey in the oven and peel the potatoes, but you'll have to do the rest.....No problem, Granny!...then, Okay, bye. ...and she hung up while I was saying, bye, Granny, love you.



All my life, Granny was a central part of it. She was mom's mother and as much a mother to me as Mom was. Granny plays a big part in nearly all my childhood memories. How I loved staying overnight with her and sleeping in her bed. The security and love I felt while I cuddled against her warm, familiar body was beyond compare. Granny never said she loved me. But, I always knew it. Nobody else's face ever lit up the way hers did when she'd see me. Whenever, as I grew up, my life seemed to be in a turmoil, all I had to do was go to see Granny. Just being with her...where I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt..that I was unconditionally loved, soothed my soul and gave me peace. Granny didn't like to hug or be hugged. But she would stoically accept my good-bye hug, maybe patting me on the back, for a couple of seconds before she'd pull away and say...always, even after I was grown.. "You be a good girl, child, y'hear?"



I remember Granny. Granny was always an old woman! She was 48 when I was born and my earliest memories of her...when I was four or five, she seemed really old! She always wore a house-dress with an apron over it. Except for a slip under the dress, Granny never owned underwear...no panties...no bra. On Sundays, she wore her "church clothes"...always a dark blue or black dress, black shoes and nylons....if someone (usually me) was there to help her put them on. She was a big woman and could not reach her feet...so if she wore socks or hose, somebody had to put them on her feet. On Sundays when she had no help, she'd go to church bare-legged.



I remember Granny. When I was learned to read, Granny bought me my first book. After that, whenever I went to stay with her, she'd have a new book for me. She bought me Little Women. Treasure Island. Several bible story books. My first bible (white). Once, when I was ten years old, Granny had moved to Garrett, Kentucky. We lived on Bull Creek. Back then, that (now) twenty minute trip took hours on narrow, curving roads...up and down and around hills. Anyways, Mom's cousin who lived in Garrett, stopped to see us. When he left, I was with him. He promised Mom that he'd bring me back in two weeks. I was so excited...I hadn't seen Granny in over a year and the anticipation had me all antsy. I was a shy child and had never met Cluett before...so I didn't talk, except to answer his questions, all the way there. But he told Granny I was the noisiest, quietest child he'd ever seen! I guess my excitement ...both at going to see Granny and my first trip in a car (actually a truck with pigs squealing in the back).

Anyway. Granny had moved to Garrett with Darvin, her youngest child who was six years older than me, because she had no income after Granddaddy died. Her sister's family was quite well-off and they provided Granny with a place to live. They owned a grocery store and a department store...and let Granny have, free,whatever she and Darvin needed.



Well. She had told Cluett not to bother coming back if he didn't bring me with him. (so, Cluett told me on the trip there.) And, she had "mentioned" to her sister, cousins, nieces, etc that I liked to read. Dozens of books, magazines, catalogs, and funny-books (comics) were stacked on her kitchen table when I walked in. I was in heaven! And I made my way through all of them before the two weeks were up! When Cluett came to pick me up to go home, he had to forcibly tear me away from Granny, who patted me on the back and whispered, you be a good girl, child, y'hear. And I mean, he picked me up and carried me to the truck. I was crying so hard I couldn't talk...or walk! And I cried nearly all the way home. Cluett finally got me to stop crying by telling me he would, himself, make sure Granny and Darvin came to spend Christmas with us! And he did. For two glorious weeks.

Our house was a small two room house...kitchen and one great big room, divided in half by blankets hung across the middle, to give Mom and Dad a semblance of privacy. The other half contained two beds. Pauline and I shared one, Sue and Jimmy the other one. With Granny there, she slept with me and Pauline. Darvin slept with Sue and Jimmy. In later years, Mom mentioned those two weeks and how crowded it was. Not to me! Cuddling against Granny's back at night, seeing her sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking to Mom when I got up was all I ever wanted in this world. When Granny helped me feed the chickens and slop the hogs, it wasn't a chore! And I talked to her. And she listened to me. You have no idea how great that was. Mom never had time or the inclination to listen to anything I had to say and only talked to me to tell me to do something, or about something I had done wrong. Not Granny. She, herself, never said much..a yes...a grunt...a hmmm...just enough to let me know she was listening and interested.

Darvin didn't stay around with us very much. Every morning he'd go with Daddy when Daddy went to work, taking the rowboat across the river. Darvin would spend the day with his friends,meeting Daddy at the river in time to come home. Many nights he stayed in town with friends or relatives. When he was there, I dragged him all over Bull Creek. I just had to show him my school, our church, where my friends lived. He told Granny I wore his ears out chattering all day! But even though he mostly wore a sneer on his sixteen year old face, he was a good sport about it.

Inevitably, the day came when Cluett showed up to take Granny and Darvin home. Once again, I was heart-broken, crying so hard I couldn't talk. When I hugged her, Granny patted my back and said, "you be a good girl, and God Willing, I'll see you this summer."

Little did she and I know, but the summer would see my whole family moving in with Granny when Cluett moved her to Estil.

From Granny I heard all the old cliches. "Granny, will I be pretty someday?" "Pretty is as pretty does." she'd say...or "beauty is only skin-deep"...or "Granny, maybe I'll marry a rich man when I grow up." her reply.."its easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to go to heaven." Granny taught me to embroider. "busy hands make no trouble." She taught me to sew..to repair a tear in my dress, .."a stitch in time, saves nine." Or when I complained about a slight from somebody, "you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." When the kitchen was crowded with mom and my aunts cooking, and I'd ask Granny if she was helping..."too many cooks spoil the broth." When I say I wished something..."wishes are like pigs...they could fly if they had wings." (never made much sense to me). Ask her if she liked somebody, "makes no difference if I do or don't, God does." Others....stop squirming like a worm.....Eat with your mouth closed, the food looks better on your plate." "If you can't say something good about somebody, don't say anything." "Stop fighting with your sister, she'll be your best friend someday." In church, "shhhh stop fidgeting, God's watching." There were many many more. I think Granny taught me everything I didn't learn in school.



An early memory still makes me laugh. As I mentioned before, Granny didn't wear underwear. At bedtime every night, she'd say, "come on, child, let's go make a little water." We'd go outside, behind the house. I'd pull down my panties and squat. Granny would just spread her legs. How I wanted to be able to do that...go pee standing up. So, one night, anticipating, I snuck and pulled off my panties. When we went outside, Granny spread her legs. Imitating her, I spread mine. Instead of going straight down, like Granny's...my pee shot out to the front, soaking my dress!

Expecting a scolding, I peeked sideways at Granny...and she was laughing! We went back inside, she got me a clean dress to sleep in, and, still laughing, told Granddaddy what I did. In bed, snuggled between Granny and Granddaddy, he hugged me close and whispered, "you gotta grow some to fit your Granny's pants." "But Granddaddy, she don't wear none," I whispered back. Well, both he and Granny were laughing so hard the bed shook! I never did learn to pee straight down like Granny did.

The last time I talked to Granny was the day her son, Uncle Calvin was buried. Granny had been in the hospital a week and was unable to go the funeral. Before going home, I stopped at the hospital to see her.

She told me about this dream she had....insisting she was wide awake. But in the "dream vision" she was standing at the bottom of a green hill. She said it was the brightest, clearest sunlit day she'd ever seen. At the top of the hill stood a crowd of people. She could make out just a few of them, including her children who had died. But half-way up the hill was Uncle Calvin. He stopped, turned around, looked down at her, and held out his hand.

I had to leave the room before I broke down completely. I went out into the hall and cried in Steve's arms. When I was composed, I went back into the room. "Sorry, Granny, I had to use the bathroom." Well, she didn't believe me for a second! "Now, Lorraine, don't you be crying and carrying on over your old Granny. When I leave here, I'm going to a better place." "But I don't want you to go," I said. "I know you don't, but we all have to go sooner or later." I leaned over the bed, laid my head on her chest and said, "don't leave me, Granny."...bawling as hard as I ever have in my whole life. She patted my back and said, "God won't take me until my job here is done. Now your job is to take care of your family and raise them kids the way God wants them raised."

I said good-bye to my Granny that day. I knew when I left her, that her job here on earth was done. Oh, I saw her a couple of times after that, when she was in ICU...but couldn't talk to me. When she died just 3 weeks after uncle Calvin, through my sorrow I smiled, seeing her rushing up that hill to take Calvin's hand, and the two of them running up the rest of the way to be greeted by Granddaddy and Uncle Wilse and her two children who had died too young.

It won't be long before I'll be climbing that hill, myself, but at the top at the front of the crowd, I know Granny will be there to welcome me with a pat on the back, and saying "you were a good girl. Welcome home, child!"

AMERICAN IDOL JUNKIE

Okay...I admit it...I'm an American Idol Junkie!! But then, so is my husband and brother-in-law. We never miss an episode. And we argue, a lot, over our favorites.

After this weeks shows, I've picked my two favs. Crystal of the girls group...and Casey of the mens group.

Crystal just seems to glow...and she can sing, too. Casey...Oh my...he is Hot! Hot!...and he can sing, too. Down, Kara, down girl! Your fawning over Casey is annoying and I'm sure is offensive to the other Idol-wantabes. Even Casey looked embarrassed.

My over-all pick is Casey. I think he's the one to beat.

I was a tad disappointed in Andrew Garcia...from the auditions, I expected him to outshine all of them. Maybe next week.

EARLY MORNINGS

Lately, I've been sleeping in...getting up at 8 instead of 6. And I feel as if half the day is over already!

For you who don't know, I love the early hours of the day. My ideal morning is (from March to October)...up before the crack of dawn...grab a cup of coffee, my cigs :)..and the newspaper and ink pen...and a rag to wipe the dew off the table and chairs...and go out on the deck/porch. No other cup of coffee or cigarette tastes as good as that one, in the still-dark morning, while anticipating the first light of day, listening to the birds chirping wake up songs.

As the darkness fades, giving way to daylight, a calmness fills my soul. I can almost hear God saying "Let there be light." and my response is..."This is the day the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it." This period, as the night slowly fades, is my time of prayer and reflection. My heart is so filled with God's glory, words trip over themselves as I try to express my praise and thanks. Oh, I know...I can ...and do...do the same thing sitting at my kitchen table, or even before getting out of bed...but that early morning outside commune with God is a very special time for me.

When the sun is up and it's fully daylight, I read my newspaper and work the daily crosswork. Most days, I'm finished by 7 and back in the house, at the table, for more coffee and cigs with the USA Today paper and crossword.

During the long, cold winter months I can only sit at the table, looking out the window, yearning for spring!

For years I watched the daybreak as I drove to work. How I yearned all winter (when I was at work before daybreak) for the spring...when I could leave home in the dark and arrive at work in the early daylight.

My wish for you, my friends and family, is that, during your morning rush to get to work or school, you will take a moment to look around, listen to the birds, watch the sun rise..and be amazed right along with me "How Great is Our God" who can perform this amazing rebirth every single day.

HURRY UP SPRING!!!!

FACEBOOK

I'm really enjoying Facebook. I am in touch with many people, friends and relatives, that I have lost contact with through the years. And getting to know some great-neices that I hadn't seen since they were little girls. Now they're beautiful young women.

Sometimes it feels like I have a full-time job. I farm on Farmville, Farmtown, Country Living, Island Paradise...cook on Cafe World and Restaurant City...raise and train fish on Happy Aquarium...take care of pets on Petville and Happy Pets....and build cities on My Town and My City. Wheh! Lots of work...but very entertaining.

So, if you have nothing better to do, join me!

SELF-PITY

Normally, I have a pretty upbeat attitude about growing old and all my major and minor medical problems. But, last night, I gave in to self-pity and wallowed there for awhile. It wasn't a major crisis that brought it on. That's why it took me completely by surprise.

My youngest son called and said they would be in Bourbon and were going to a basketball game there Friday night to see my nephew play for Tippecanoe High School against Triton High School, where my son used to teach and coach basketball. He asked if we'd like to join them. Now, I would like nothing better than to see my son and his family..and I love basketball. But, due to my declining health, I had to say no. Number one, I can not drive that far, especially at night. I have a medical condition where my muscles cramp up...legs, feet, toes, chest...neck...when stretched or twisted (as in turning to check for traffic). Second, my night vision is not what it used to be. And, walking...forget it! I'm lucky to walk from the car into the house and even then I'm in terrible pain and short of breath. My brother-in-law has only one eye..and its not real good...so him driving is out. My daughter has to babysit her three year old grandson, so she can't go.

When I got off the phone, I was all choked up..lump in my throat, tears flowing. And it wouldn't stop. I went to my bedroom and gave myself permission to have a good cry...which I proceeded to do. When I decided I'd had enough wallowing...after a half hour or so, I got up and tried to play on the computer...but my eyes continued to leak and I couldn't see the screen nor concentrate on what I was looking at. Despite all my efforts, the self-pity had taken over.

After two hours...loong pitiful me hours, I knew it was time to let go and let God. Since my favorite praying position...on my knees by my bed...is no longer an option, I curled up on the bed and told God I needed His help. I told him I know He has given me these afflictions for some reason known only to Him and most of the time I can accept it..that He knows what's best for me. I prayed for better acceptance. I asked Him to rid me of this miserable self-pity. And you know what? Suddenly, I realized my mind was calm. My tears had stopped. I ended my praying with all the praises of thanks I could think of...and at the end threw in "God, you have answered my prayer almost before the words were out of my mouth..now, if it's all the same to you, how about throwing in some healing, too? Then, even though I know God knows my body even better than I do, I listed all my ills, aches and pains.

Well...I don't feel any healing of my afflictions, which only means God still is not through with me. But, Praise The Lord, He did take away the paralyzing self-pity almost before I asked Him.

NEW GREAT GRANDCHILD

Today I got to hold my newest...sixth...great-grandchild. He's a little over two weeks old, but due to illnesses and weather, today was the first time I've met him. He's wonderful! So tiny ..so perfect.


Since his birth, I've been told he looks just like Grant did (his two-year-old big brother), that he looks even more like his dad, Anthony than Grant did. But when I look at him, I really don't see anybody but him. And that's my wish for him. That he will grow up to be himself...and the best himself that he can be.

Maybe he'll be president and preside, with God's help, over a peaceful nation. Maybe he'll be a doctor, prescribing God's love along with his medicine. Maybe he'll be a scientist and, with God's guiding hands, discover a cure for the common cold. Maybe he'll be a truck-driver, riding with God, delivering necessary material and goods to a needy world. But whatever he chooses, I pray that he will always rely on God's love to make him the best he can be.

Welcome to my world, Wyatt Glenn Knudson.

GOODBYE, GARY. REST IN PEACE!

Today is the funeral and cremation of a good man. When I started writing this, I tried to think of more adjectives to describe Gary Burke. But none of them are better than "good man."

I haven't seen Gary often since 1965. He was one of my brother's best friends from Belleville, Michigan, in their early teen years and stayed close through the years. I sometimes saw Gary and his wife Linda when they visited Jim and Loretta. Always, without fail, his conversations centered around his children and grandchildren. I got the impression he was a very family-centered man.

For a few months, after he got out of the Army, in 1965, Gary was a frequent visitor at my house. My children, Tammy and Buddy,(6 and 7 at the time) adored him. In fact, Tammy insists he was her first crush and wanted to grow up and marry him. Gary developed a crush on me and I worried about "crushing" him when I gently explained my feelings toward him were very brotherly. Unforturnately, that ended his visits and I missed him horribly. I was so happy for him when he married Linda Jones...a younger sister of my own teen-age best friend, Helen.

My brother, Jim, is devastated. He went to see Gary just a week before he died of cancer. We planned to attend the funeral, but the weather has prevented that.

The world has lost one of its brightest lights and is a poorer place without Gary Burke in it.

Rest in peace, my friend.

PANTS ON THE GROUND

I just got home from Meijers...grocery shopping. I'm still laughing! This young man helped me out, putting the groceries in my car.

Neither my driver side nor passenger side doors will open from the outside. I asked him to reach in from the back to open my door. When he did, his pants slipped down...below his cheeks! Even though he was wearing long johns (Thank God) I could still the shape and pink of his derriere. Then...OHMY GOSH... he stood up and turned around...and his pants fell below his knees! All I could think of was...Pants on the Ground....and said it out loud. As he pulled up his pants he said...guess that's my theme song now....and he started singing it.....saying ...looking like a fool with my pants on the ground. I was laughing so hard I was crying. When I got into the car, I pulled out my cell phone. He, still laughing as well, said ...are you calling the newspaper??
That set me off even more. I sat there and watched him bop back towards the store...still singing Pants on the Ground.

A LITTLE ABOUT NOTHING

I just read my daughter-in-law's blog about her adventure/misadventure with coloring her hair and while I was laughing, I couldn't help but recall all the misadventures I've had over the years.

The first time I colored my hair, I was about 23 and my hair stylist talked me into going darker. My hair was naturally ashy brown...fine and fly-away that could only be tamed by lots of teasing and hair-spray. When she finished, it was a medium brown. Not too different from my own hair in color...but ohhhh, the texture! The dye had tamed my untamable hair! I could put it back in my ususal style, a french twist, and it would stay all day with just a bare whfffff of spray. And nobody noticed. So, the the next time, a few months later, I went darker. This time a beautiful, rich mahogany color. And everybody noticed.

A few months later, my cousin with whom the kids and I shared a house, came home with a bottle of Clairol. She wanted her auburn hair the same shade as mine. So, we did it. And since there was some mixture left over, we put it on my hair. OHHHHHH big mistake! First, I did Avanelle's hair in rollers and put the dryer on her head while I rolled mine. When it was my turn for the dryer, Avanelle sat on the floor in front of me while I combed and styled her hair. It was beautiful! The dark brown brought out the auburn tint even more. I could hardly wait to see mine! When my hair was dry, Avanelle styled it and kept saying things like...you look so good with dark hair...dark hair makes your complexion look so creamy....I was on pins and needles waiting to go to the bathroom mirror to see it for myself. And I'm sure they heard my scream all the way to Ann Arbor! It wasn't the gorgeous dark auburn of Avanelle's...but BLACK!
With my pale skin, I looked like a dead person! The bad thing was, I had to live with it. Back then...I don't know about today...we had to wait several months between colorings because the chemicals could seriously damage your hair. So, what I did for the next three months was use Avanelles make-up. It was much darker and redder than what I had been using...and I had to cover everything with the base...face and throat.

I managed to wait three months...instead of the recommended six..and had my hair stylist redo the color...against her better judgement, I might add. The best I can say about that is it's a good thing it was March. People thought I had dyed my hair green on purpose! At my next hair appointment, Janine, the stylist said she had a gift for me and gave me a gorgeous brown wig! For six months whenever I left the house, that wig was on my head!

When the six months waiting period was up, my girlfriend Carol, offered to do my hair. She had trained as a hair-stylist but after working a few months in a salon, decided she didn't like the job after all. Anyway, she bought a light brown/ash blonde color kit and proceeded to do my hair.
That was how I became a blonde for over 20 years! Evidently, she left it processing too long...and my hair came out a lovely strawberry blonde and I loved it! With my coloring, it was not only looked very natural but enhanced my coloring. Who knew that I was really born a blonde..with light brown hair.

NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS

Now that we are well into the new year, I can write about why I, long ago, resolved never to make New Years Resolutions. For one thing, I never carried them out. I had this need, I guess it was, to go for the toughies. Oh no, my resolutions were not to stop smoking or to lose weight. Each year I would resolve to stop losing my temper...to stop worrying about whether someone liked me or not...to stop feeling intimidated or inferior, to laugh more, worry less.

Needless to say, at least one...sometimes all of them...were broken before the end of January. One year, to that list, I added the resolution to read the entire bible again. I say "again" because I had read it through at least twice by the time I was out of high school. I made a plan...to read a chapter every day. I didn't follow that plan, though, often reading several chapters at a sitting. And, by the end of May, I had completed the task. And, was I proud! I told everybody who would listen. I had finally carried out a New Year's Resolution.

The hard ones kept eluding me. The temper was, I thought, the easiest one. But...I forgot to add pouting to the list. So, instead of flaring up and speaking my mind, I became a world-class pouter. The only thing I can say in my defense is...if whoever I was mad at left me alone for awhile...and let me pout...I soon got over it. It has never been part of my make-up to stay mad for very long or to carry a grudge. Once I was over it, it was as ...and is...as if it never happened. I have never been able to understand those people who can keep a grudge...and a mad...going for months, even years.

And, I've never been able to not care if someone likes me or not. Even if it's someone I don't like...go figure! As for feeling inferior or easily intimidated, that's so ingrained into my character, I doubt even a psychiatrist could help me change. It probably stems from growing up poor and Mom's constant warning "don't act like white trash." Consequently, I always felt I was white trash and had to fool people into thinking I wasn't.

As for laughing more, I have always tried to find the humor in any situation. Worrying? I'm a first-class worrier! I could probably give lessons.

If my child was out past curfew, my fingers actually itched to start calling hospitals to find out where he/she was after the horrible accident I could imagine he/she had been in. One night when my daughter was over an hour late, I actually did call the hospitals in Bremen, Mishawaka and South Bend, as well as the police departments.

When my son played football, I had to be at every game. When he got hurt, I had to be there to ride in the ambulance to the hospital! Then of course, the only time he did get hurt and have to go to the hospital, I had to follow the ambulance. And I won't even talk about when both boys went away to college! Its a good thing that we, as human beings, are adaptive. After the first couple of months I did relax and stop waking up in the middle of the night imagining them hurt and bleeding.

From my now lofty age of Seventy, I have learned a few things. Number one, is..we raise our children the best we know how and pray it was good enough. We have to let them go. One of the most memorable sermons Pastor Bob Hueni ever preached, to me, was about how our children belonged to God..we were just caretakers. God had entrusted them to us to raise, train, and guide into adulthood. They were not our possessions. We even had an emotional service where we gave our children over to God..or back to Him, while promising to raise them the way He wanted. Joey was four years old at the time and has belonged to God ever since. I didn't make the same emotional hand-over with Tammy and Buddy. At the time they were teen-agers and had, themselves, given their lives to God.

Another thing I have learned is, to remember yesterday, plan for tomorrow, but to live for today. This is harder than it sounds. To remember yesterday means to not forget the lessons we've learned. To plan for tomorrow means taking care of our families, our homes, cities, states, country. Living for today is the hardest. While living for today, you can't forget yesterday and tomorrow. But you must let the people closest to you know how you feel. A hug, a touch, a loving glance, a wicked wink, ...and a smile across the room...all let that special person...a child, a spouse, a sibling, a parent...know that you love them. Oh, don't forget the words, they're important too...but its the silent actions that warm our hearts. Live for today by being courteous and respectful to other people...more than just a polite Thank you and You're welcome. Say a few words to lift the spirits of the harried sales clerk. Tell the frazzled mother of a toddler what a lovely child she has. Pay the check for the elderly couple in McDonalds counting their pennies. I'm convinced that kindness and consideration are contagious. If you show kindness to someone unexpectedly, more than half of them will pass it on.

I remember once, years ago, in the grocery store I didn't have enough money to pay for all the groceries in my cart. And the utter embarrassment I felt at having to pick through the items deciding what to keep and what to put back. A lady behind me told the clerk to bag all of it and she would pay the difference. I might add that I had no extraneous items. Milk, bread, balogna, hambuger, hotdogs, and a few cans of vegetables. Anything I didn't keep would mean less for me and my two kids to eat that week. So, even while embarrassed and overwhelmed at the generosity, I was extremely grateful. Over the years since then, I have several times, found myself in the shoes of that kind lady..and have followed her example. Just as I'm sure some of the people who I have helped out, have...and will...help others in the same circumstances.

Living for Today. Passing it on. Praising God.

SEVENTY

Joey's post made me think...can Icome up with 70 things I'm thankful for. I bet I can. Here goes.

In no specific order except the first one. l. I'm thankful that Jesus loved me enough to give his life for me. 2. My husband Joe. 3. Tammy. 4. Buddy. 5. Joey. 6. Lori and her kids. 7..Billy 8..Teri Lorraine 9...Sarah Jo. 10...Tori. 10..Amy. 12..Danny. 13...Aaron. 14...Annie. 15...Andrew....16...LeAnn and Tia (tied)...17...Erica. 18..Anthony....19...Layni. 20...Abby 21...Jonah 22...Kadyn 23...Grant.

ok...those were the easy ones.

24 ...Jim and Loretta 25....Pauline and Ron 26 ...Frank and Linda 27....Mary Sue and Leo
28...Margaret and Bari 29...Dodie and Mike

I could have lumped them all under family...but that would have only been one!

now they get even harder.

30...I'm thankful for being born an American.
31. I'm thankful for my Kentucky childhood.

that's why I thank God for:

32. in-house plumbing
33. hot water
34. electricity
35. gas furnaces
36. Wal-Mart
37. K-Mart
38. My car...1995 Buick, even tho it's on its last legs.
38. chicken and dumplings
40. Any and all chocolates
41. Fresh tomatoes
42. Corn on the cob
43. Carpeted floors
44 Microwave ovens.
45. Refrigerators and freezers.
46. Air conditioning
47. Electric carts at walmarts and Meijers and K-mart
48. newspaper crossword puzzles
49 Books.. This probably should have been right up at number 2...lol
50. My computer...again...this should have been near the top.
51. Facebook

This is harder than I figured it would be.

52. Television
53. Radios
54 Elvis Preslely
55 Amusement parks..what would family vacations have been without them.
56. Social Security
57. Friends..through the years and over the miles.
58. Meredith Reed...for Tammy and Buddy
59. Steve Bennett...whom I could not imagine never being in my life.
60. Being a teen-ager in the 1950's
61....and on that same theme...not having to wear girdles, garter belts or sanitary belts...thanks to the 60's!
62. Crocheting
63. Living in an area that enjoys four distinct seasons.
64. Christmas
65. a duplicate here...I thank God every day for Kadyn James Oliver.
66. That Tammy finally got disability social security and health insurance.
67. That Buddy's family will be moving back closer next summer!
68. That I have gotten to know Tara...Pauline's granddaughter.
69. that my grandchildren and great grandchildren are happy and healthy.

AND THE NUMBER ONE...OR 70...

THAT I HAVE BEEN BLESSED ENOUGH TO LIVE 70 YEARS! PRAISE GOD!

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 47

For those of you who are following this series, I apologize. I've reached a vital deadlock. Not that I can't think of what to write...just can't write what I think of. Like all kids, my kids did things that might embarrass them today for their families and friends to hear. Likewise, the break up of my marriage to the man I honestly wanted to grow old with. Because of my love for him, I have no desire to hurt or embarrass him in the eyes of those who love him.

Although I'm ending this series abruptly...keep tuned. I still have lots of things to write about! I even will write some cutsey stories about my kids as stand-alone blogs.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 47

When you're raising kids, you don't realize how fast time goes. One day you're bringing home a lttle bundle of joy, then she starts school and you wonder where the years went. Then you turn around and she's a teenager with all the natural angst that comes with it. Next thing you know you're watching her walk down the church aisle in a long white dress. And you think "how did this happen...she was just started school last year, it seems."

I enjoyed raising teenagers. Those transient years between childhood and adulthood are difficult years...both on the kids and their parents. The kids are so eager to grow up and experience life they constantly push the limits. As parents, our job is to set the limits and hold tight ..yet be able and willing to stretch them as our teens mature. Its a hard road to walk for parents..between allowing more freedom than they're mature enough to handle...and being too strict and not allowing them to experience the things that will help them mature.

Tammy and Buddy's teenage years were not easy years. Tammy, especially, pushed the limits constantly. She was one of those kids who are in a hurry to grow up. There was never a curfew she didn't break. Subsequently, she was grounded a lot. She'd be grounded for a week..or two..then a week or sometimes a month later, she'd either come home late or not be where she was supposed to be. And she was grounded again.

During the grounding periods, we got along great. After the first couple of days when she got over sulking about being grounded, her natural sweet, bubby nature would come out and she was a joy to have around. She was always dependable and responsible where taking care of Joey was concerned. In the summers I never had to worry about getting a baby-sitter. Tammy was as good as they come. Some of my sweetest memories are going shopping on Saturdays after our weekly cleaning was done. Just me and Tammy and often, Lori. We'd spend hours at Targets and K-mart in South Bend...and maybe not buy a thing.

Buddy was easier to raise. He obeyed the rules. If his curfew was ten, he was home at ten til ten. And he was fun to be around, always joking and kidding. Where Tammy went through sullen, angry periods, Buddy never did. Oh, he wasn't perfect. He got his share of grounding. I remember once when he was grounded, his friend Mike came over and wanted Buddy to go camping out in the woods over night. I said no. Buddy and Mike went into the kitchen for a few minutes. I was sitting in a chair in the corner of the living room. They came into the living room and Mike said, "Go ahead, Buddy. When nothing else works, suck her big toe." I was laughing so hard I was crying. And as they went out the door, Mike said, "See, I told you. The big toe works every time."

Steve and I were often at odds over how to raise the kids. He believed we should let them go...wherever, whenever they wanted. I would tell him, that was the easy way out..a parent's cop-out. Sure, life would have been easier and happier if the kids were always happy..when they were home...but as parents, we have the responsibility to hold them back from doing things they aren't ready for. Naturally, our differing philosophies didn't help our marriage any.

Steve enjoyed the Saturday nights when they were all home as much as I did. We've had some all night marathon games of Monoply. Buddy and Steve were mad competitors, buying up all the land and hotels while the rest of us just managed to hold on. I've often suspected that Lori deliberately lost first ...out of boredom...when the game was obviously between Steve and Buddy.

Same thing with table tennis. One summer we kept our cars in the driveway because we had a table tennis in the garage. Every day after work, Steve and the kids played table tennis while I cooked supper. And every night from the living room I could hear the smacking of the balls and the giggling and competive banter of the kids...and often, Steve...until I had to break it up so I could get some sleep. On work days, five am came early! I seldom got to bed before 11...if one of the kids was out, I couldn't go to bed until he/she was home.

During the periods when I thought I was going crazy...worrying over Tammy when she was out and fighting with Steve over everything...the kids...spending money we didnt have...Joey was my salvation!

God never made a happier, more loving child. He never had to be told something twice. When he got scolded over something, he just never did that something again. No matter how tired I was when I got home from work, his sunny smile and loving hugs made me forget about the tiring day at work.

And Lori. How I looked forward to her weekends! Although not an affectionate child, she had such a calming effect on all of us. Her sweet smile could lift your heart! And we all knew she was just as glad to be with us as we were to have her. Tammy, Buddy and Joey accepted her as their sister and could only have been happier with her, if she could have lived with us all the time. There were times I felt sorry for her. She worshipped her dad..and suddenly she had to share him not only with a new stepmom but three other kids. It couldn't have been easy on her. At the same time, she had a new stepfather and baby brother at home, plus Wayne's kids from his first marriage. From an only child, she was suddenly surrounded with step brothers and sisters, having to share both her parents with their new families. Besides every other weekend...from Friday night to Sunday night, Lori was with us for month during the summers, a week at Christmas and a week at spring break. One of the happiest moments of my life was when, after we had moved intothe new house, I heard her screaming at Buddy, who was pestering her. That was the moment I realized she had actually become one of the family and not a guest. And even, while I was telling Buddy to leave her alone...inside, I'm saying, "Way to go, Buddy!" From then on, there was no question about her feeling she belonged. She gave as good as she got!

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 46

While waiting for...and watching...our house being built, Steve, the kids and I were learning to live together. One more person made the apartment, which seemed roomy when we first moved it, now felt smaller and crowded...especially on Lori's weekends. It helped that Steve and I worked different shifts. When we met, we both worked days...then when we got married, Holiday Rambler made us take different shifts...they wouldn't allow husband and wife to work together at the same plant. Later, when they dropped the afternoon shift, I got transferred to a different plant.

Life was good, again!

Every day we drove out to check the progress on our house. We watched the basement get poured, saw the walls go up, then the siding. We had chosen the color of the aluminum siding and the wood front, as well as the brick trim. After that, it seemed to come to a stand-still, waiting for the inside work. In March we went to this furniture store in Plymouth and picked out the carpeting and linoleum...in the middle of a big snow storm. But we were so eager to get it done, we weren't going to let a little snow (even 8 inches of it) stop us! One day in May, at work I got a phone call from the Bremen Hospital. This time it was about Joey. Tammy had taken him with her in a friend's car to look at the house, and when they turned a corner, the door flew open and Joey fell out. Thank God, he was not hurt badly...just scrapes and bruises. Actually, Tammy was in worse shape than he was!

Next came movi-in day. We moved into the house over the July 4th weekend. Mom and Dad, Jim and Loretta and Frankie and his wife, Penny, came up to help. With two trucks and all that help, it only took us a few hours to move and set everything up....and we were determined to stay there so we didn't have to pay another month's rent on the apartment....even though the electricity had not been turned on. We lived there a week before we had electricity!

Mine and Steve's bedroom had red carpeting with white walls and ceiling...the ceiling had silver sparkles on it. We had a big double closet with sliding mirrored doors. And our room had double entrance doors.

Buddy's and Joey's room was blue...with blue carpeting, and a double closet. They had new twin beds with new matching blankets and bedspreads.

Tammy's and Lori's room was light lavendar with lavenday carpeting. It was smaller than the boys room, so the girls had bunk beds with matching blankets and bedspreads. They got the smaller room because most of the time Tammy had it to herself.

The bedrooms and bathroom were on the upper level. On the main level was the living room and kitchen. On the lower level was the laundry room, furnace room, a half bath...and an unfinished room, that didn't stay unfinished very long. That was mine and Steve's first project together in our new home.

For months, after work, Steve worked on finishing the family room. When he finished, it was really nice...panelled walls, white tiled drop ceiling, and closet. A built in bookcase and desk-table took up one whole end wall. A few years later, after much begging and coaxing from Buddy, we put a bed down there and made it his bedroom.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 45

The first of January we moved into our new apartment in Bremen...and we all loved it! It was unfurnished, but between Uncle Calvin and my brother, Jimmy and auction sales, within a week I had three beds, a stove and refrigerator, table and four mismatched chairs and two chests of drawers. We were all set!

The apartment was on the ground floor with a big living room, two big bedrooms and a good-sized kitchen and bathroom. The only downside of it was the kitchen. Though big, it was down a hall from the living room, past my bedroom and the bathroom. It just felt separated from the rest of the apartment, but I soon grew used to it.

I loved Bremen and thought, even before I moved there, it would be the perfect town to raise kids. It was small. I think the population when we moved there was less than 2,000 including the surrounding township. Best of all, it was just 20 miles from South Bend and K-Mart!

We lived just a block from Bremen Cafe, a local bar with music and dancing on weekends. On Saturday nights after time for the kids to go to bed, I'd walk over there to meet friends from work, have a beer, listen to the music and dance. I did not want to date anybody, but I loved to go out with a crowd of friends and dance all night. At work I had made a best friend, Evelyn, and she and I spent a lot of time together with our kids. Sundays were most often spent at my brothers or my uncles...at least until I got over being mad at my mother for not allowing us to stay with them. Which didn't take more than a few weeks. I loved Mom too much to stay mad at her.

One Saturday night in February, Steve Bennett joined our group at Bremen Cafe. I knew Steve vaguely from work...knew who he was, at least. After that, he often joined us and we became friends. Over the weeks and months that friendship grew. When I realized that I was falling in love with him, I finally filed for the divorce that I had hoped I wouldn't have to get.

Steve was wonderful. To me. To the kids. To my family. He had an eight year-old daughter from his previous marriage that I adored. Lori was a shy, quiet little thing. It was hard to get her to say a word...until she got with my kids. Then she opened right up. She and Tammy became fast friends. And Joey followed her around like a little puppy. Because Steve was paying child support and bills he owed, he didn't have much money, so our dates were dutch treats...which was okay with me. I just liked being with him. We laughed a lot...and after what I had gone through the past year or two, I needed to laugh. He played on a softball team and I went to all his games. On Saturday nights we went to auto races. A neighbor of mine drove a race car, and we followed him and cheered him on all summer.

One night while at the race track, I heard my name over the loud speaker saying I had an emergency phone call. Well.....Buddy was spending the weekend with a friend over by Warsaw and had an accident riding a motor bike. The boy's parents took him to the Emergency Room at Warsaw Hospital and since he didn't know how to get hold of me, he had them call Mom and Dad.

But the hospital wouldn't stitch him up without my sayso, so they called the track and had me paged. Steve and I rushed to the hospital, scared to death not knowing how badly Buddy was hurt. Turned out, he had a long gash in his leg that had to be stitched, but was fine otherwise.

Another time I got a call at work that Buddy was at Bremen Hospital. Again, I rushed there scared about what I'd find. That time Tammy and Buddy were chasing each other and Tammy ran out the front door, slamming it in Buddy's face and he put his arm through the glass. He had several stitches in it.

I had a wonderful baby-sitter for Joey. She lived just a couple of blocks from us and loved Joey as much as he did her. She baby-sat for us for a couple of years. But that first summer, she got sick and her oldest teenage daughter took over for a few weeks. I thought it was perfect...Alice came to the house and stayed every day. Then, one night Joey and Buddy were wrestling around on the living room floor and Joey yelled, "Let go, you f...ker!" I was so shocked, I grabbed Joey and said, "what did you say? what did you call your brother?" "he's a f...er," Joey said.

I had no idea where he could have heard that word. I knew neither I nor anybody in my family ever said it. So, I questioned him carefully...and he finally said that was what Alice called him.

I immediately went over to Alice's and talked to her mother. I said I would not have that kind of language used around my kids. The upshot was the mother said she was feeling better and I could start bringing Joey back to her the next day. Unfortunately, Joey was only two years old and liked the word and the reaction it caused. (Tammy and Buddy thought it was funny and would crack up when he said it.) He continued to use it until one day I washed his mouth out with soap...that was the end of that!

In September, Steve asked me to marry him and I said yes. We planned a small December wedding. In the meantime, we went house-hunting. I found a nice story and a half farm house near Wakarusa with 3 acres of tillable land. The house need some work...painting, carpeting and the upstairs bedrooms were unfinished. Steve wanted a new house. That was our first argument...and Steve won out.

A new subdivision was going up on the edge of Bremen. We made an offer on a new house to be built...and were accepted. We pored over house plans trying to decide the type house we wanted. It was an exciting time for all of us. We got the kids involved in it and they each argued their case for the house they wanted. Finally, we all agreed on a tri-level with a two car garage...and were told the construction would begin just after the first of the year, on the lot we picked out.

Our wedding was to be quite simple. At Mom's church by her minister, Chad..and just us, the kids and our best friends, Evelyn and Jerry as attendants, and my family.

Then...the day before the wedding, I got a call at work. My uncle Calvin had been in the VA hospital in Fort Wayne for a week...and this call said he was dying and I should go to Warsaw and take Mom and Dad up to Fort Wayne. I worked days and Steve worked afternoons. I was waiting for him when he got to work and told him what was going on. He took the day off and went with me to get Mom and Dad.

We were at the hospital all night. Uncle Calvin was pronounced dead at 6 a.m. Mom had called her pastor, Chad and he was there when Uncle Calvin died. At that time, Steve and I told Chad we'd postpone our wedding.

Later on, though, the family talked us into going ahead with it...Jan, Calvin's wife, said it was what Uncle Calvin would want. While Steve and I went home to get a few hours sleep, Mom called Chad and said the wedding was back on. When we got to the church that afternoon, Chad was in overalls, doing some repairs around the church. He quickly changed into a suit and married us. And the next day we went to Ypsilanti for Uncle Calvin's funeral and burial. It was quite an introduction into our family for Steve! He was so great about it all, my entire family...Mom, Dad, brothers and sister, aunts, uncles, cousins..and most of all Granny (who was in the hospital at the time with stomach problems)...fell in love with him. I was afraid he'd feel overwhelmed, but if he was, he sure didn't act like it. He seemed to like my family just as much as they did him. Steve was soon to be tested even further.

On New Year's Eve, at a party at a friends, as soon as Steve kissed me at midnight, Evelyn handed me my coat and purse and Steve rushed me out the door to my protests and questions. In the car he told me Mom had called about fifteen minutes before midnight and said Granny was going in for emergency surgery...and wanted us to drive her and Dad to Ypsi.

When we got there, Granny was intensive care. She had survived the operation but was still in critical condition. We stayed at the hospital until Sunday evening, when we had to leave so we could go to work the next day. Mom and Dad decided to go with us. Dad was still working and he, too, had to work the next day. We tried to get Mom to stay, but she insisted on going home with Dad.

We stayed in daily contact with the hospital and relatives and kept up on Granny's condition. It was a happy day when I was told they were moving her from Intensive Care. This meant she was getting better...I thought. Instead...at work again...I get a call she has passed away...just a few hours after leaving intensive care. Once again, Steve and I, with Mom and Dad,make the sorrowful journey to Ypsilanti for a funeral. Jimmy and Loretta followed us, with Tammy and Buddy. Joey and Lori Sue rode up with Pastor Chad and his wife. We all got a laugh when Chad walked into Uncle Darvin's house where we had all gathered in preparation to attend the viewing. Chad walked in and hugged me and said...loudly...I finally met the man who can out talk me...and he's only three years old! Joey started talking at eighteen months..and never stopped...I swear he even talked in his sleep! Again, Steve was wonderful to us all and wormed his way further into the hearts of all my relatives. But, we weren't finished with him yet.

Three months later, again, I get a call at work. My sister, Margaret's, little four year old girl has died. She was riding on a motorcycle with her father and they hit a truck. Sheila was killed instantly and Phil was in critical condition. This time my relatives made the trip from Michigan to Indiana. It was a sad, difficult time for all of us, especially my sister. Steve was our rock! I don't know how I would ever have gotten through those four months of personal losses without Steve and thanked God every day for him.

The rest of my family came to depend on Steve, too. If Jimmy needed help installing a chimney, he called Steve. If Mom and Dad wanted panelling hung, they called Steve. When my sister and her husband were redoing their house, they called Steve. When our friends needed help, they called Steve. Steve was always available whenever anybody needed him. And, over the years as other facets of him changed, that never did.

Steve was a wonderful father to my kids. It can't have been easy taking on two teen-agers and a three year old, but he did it with open arms. He was great with his own daughter, too. We had Lori with us every other weekend, a month in the summer, a week at Easter/spring break and a week at Christmas. She fit in with my kids like she'd always been a part of us. At first she was very shy around me. I figured it was because ...a. I married her dad...and maybe she had been dreaming that her parents would get back together...altho her mother had remarried, also. b. She was afraid of losing her time with her dad. I worked hard at making sure that didn't happen, encouraging Steve to spend time alone with Lori when she was with us. I talked to her early on and told her that I did not want to take her mother's place...she had a mother...but I hoped she and I could be friends. I grew to love her as much as I did my own kids and soon found myself just as eager as Steve to have her with us as often as possible. When it came to Christmas and birthdays, I made sure that Lori got just as much from us as my kids...after all, I did consider her partly mine.

My uncle Darvin and his wife, Shirley, divorced and started having trouble with their middle child, Mildred. Severe problems...drugs, running away, violence towards her mother. She was taken from them and put in the "system." One weekend when Steve and I were visiting Darvin and his new girlfriend, Darvin became visible upset when talking about Milly. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, Steve and I had volunteered to take her if the court would allow it. Well, the court did and Milly came to live with us. On the surface Milly was a sweet, congenial fourteen year-old who was a welcome addition to our family. All the kids loved her. We started her in school ...ninth grade...in Bremen. At first, all was fine. But after a few months, Milly got antsy...and ran away from us, hitchhiked to Ypsilanti and her dad. Darvin brought her back, but she didn't stay long. As hard as it was to give her up...or to give up on her...we had to. She was put in a foster home in Ann Arbor where she lived until she was 18. She has told me that the love we showed her and then she lost by her own actions, made her determined to change...and she did. Today, Milly is a social worker working with troubled teenagers such as she was.

Steve and I also opened our home and hearts to some inner city kids from Chicago. Every summer we took in at least one child for two weeks...sometimes we'd put one on the bus to go home and pick up another one for two weeks. Sometimes we took two siblings at a time. We always tried to get a boy near Joey's age. Over the years there were a couple boys we got every summer that we all grew close to.

Michael and Paul. How I loved those boys! We always made sure we did something special while the kids were with us. One year we took one flying..a friend of ours had a small plane. We took them to Kings Island amusement park. We took one on vacation with us. We took them camping. But one year, when we had Michael, I think it was, we went to Chicago to the museums. We had planned to go to the zoo, but it rained all day and we ended up at the museum. Michael was a good sport about it, though, saying even though he had been to the museum...not with us!

The summer Joey was 12 was the last year we took a Chicago kid. That year we had Michael and took him on vacation with us. And Joey and Michael squabbled the whole two weeks. Even Lori was ready to send Michael home on more than one occasion. The kids had just outgrown each other and were growing in different directions. After that both Joey and Lori asked us not to take any more summer kids.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 44

For the first time in my life, I was doing manual labor! My job at Franklin Coach in Nappanee wasn't hard...filling in nail holes inside little travel trailers and staining trim...and provided a way for me to support my kids again.

Our little house trailer had two good sized bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom. Joey slept with me and Tammy and Buddy, once again, had to share a bedroom. The kids hated it there but, at the time, it was the best I could do. Rent was cheap, only $15 a week.

I kept writing to Joe even though he never responded. Then one day I got a phone call from his doctor. In that call and subsequent ones, the doctor asked me all about the way Joe had been acting leading up to his commitment.

In July, I got a call from Joe. He said he was going to sign himself out. That he was "fed up" with the hospital and didn't think they were doing him any good. I told him not to do anything rash and I'd call him back the next day.

I called his doctor and told him about Joe's phone call and asked if, in his opinion, Joe should leave the hospital. He said no way! But, he added, Joe had voluntarily committed himself and could leave anytime he wanted. He said the only way they could keep Joe from leaving was if either I or his mother came out there and committed him.

Since there was no way I could afford the trip, I called Joe's mother in Florida. She refused. I called the doctor back and told him there was nothing I could do. I asked if Joe would be okay and the doctor suggested I commit him locally...which I knew I could not do.

I then called Joe back, as promised. He had already made travel arrangements and told me he would fly into Chicago and take a bus to Warsaw and gave me dates and times. Since he would be while I was at work, I told him to go to Mom's.

When I got off work, I picked up the kids and we went to Mom's. It was a joyous reunion for all of us. The kids were absolutely thrilled to see Joe again...as he was to see them. This was on a Tuesday. On Friday when I got home from work, Joe said he wanted to go to Detroit to see his uncle and brother. We left early Saturday morning and after a short visit with Uncle George and Georgie, the kids and I went up to Ypsilanti to Avanelles, leaving Joe there with a promise to pick him up at three the next day for the return trip to Indiana.

When we went to get him the next day, he said he wanted to stay a week in order to take care of some "stuff." I tried to talk him out of staying but to no avail.

The next Friday I called him to tell him we'd be there Saturday afternoon to get him...and he said he needed another week. The next Friday I again called him. This time he said he was not coming back to Indiana...that Indiana was not his home. And if the kids and I wanted to live with him, we'd have to come to Detroit. Later, when Joe wasn't home, Uncle George called me. He said to not even try to come up there to live...that Joe was incapable of taking care of himself, much less me and the kids.

On Monday I called Joe's doctor in Camarillo and told him what was going on and asked what he thought I should do. His advice, in a nutshell, was to get a divorce. He said, in his opinion, Joe could function alone...with no responsibilities. He said Joe's illness had started when Joey was born. Before that, Joe really didn't feel any responsibility for me and Tammy and Buddy because he knew I had always worked and taken care of us. But when his own child was born, that put responsibility on him..and when he lost his job at Lincoln Park, it was downhill from there. I was crying while talking to the doctor. He was very kind and said he knew it was a difficult decision to make but he thought I should think about my kids and what was best for them.

So, here I was again, having to choose between my kids and my husband. It was a no-brainer to me. My kids were my life. Did I make the right decision? I don't know. Most people, even my mother, disagreed with me. She thought I should go to Michigan and try to save my marriage. Instead, I filed for divorce.

The first of August, I got laid off from Franklin Coach. After two weeks looking for work, I took a part-time job, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, at a local tavern. I hated it. But the money was good. I didn't make much per hour, but the tips were more than I had made working at Franklin Coach. A big disadvantage was having to leave the kids alone. Tammy was 12, Buddy turned 12 in August...and Joey not yet two. It was a lot of responsibility on Tammy. My hours were 8 pm to 2:30 am. Tammy resented having to stay in the house on those long summer evenings. She and Buddy started fighting and every night at work, I could count on at least one phone call from each of them. Since we lived only two blocks from the bar, I could run home...and often did...if I thought their fighting deserved intervention.

In August I got a job at Holiday Rambler. I was able to quit the bar, except filling in when they needed help...which I was glad to do because of the tips. It was nothing to bring home, in one night, what I made for a week at the trailer factory.

The kids started school in Milford and I thought things were going good, again, for us. Then, in October, a couple of weeks after her 13th birthday, Tammy ran away. She went for a walk on Saturday afternoon. Since I had been called to work at the bar that night, I told her to be home by six so we could eat before I had to leave. She didn't show up. Two days later Mom found her at a friend's house. I won't go into that weekend except to say it was the worst experience of my life...not knowing if she was dead or alive. Thank God for my Dad...who was with me through it all. Mom was in Kentucky for the weekend and didn't know about until she got home late Sunday night. She was at work on Monday and mentioned Tammy's disappearance to a friend...who said Tammy was staying with them! The friend called home and had Tammy come to the duck farm, where Mom worked...then Mom called me and said to come get Tammy.

When I walked into the duck farm, I didn't know whether to hug her or slap her! After the two days misery I had gone through, I was swept with conflicting feelings. Happy she was okay...angry at her for running off. The happy side won. I pulled her into my arms and we both cried. When we got home, we spent the whole day talking. Tammy told me how unhappy she was there...how much she hated being home alone with Buddy and Joey when I worked nights...how ashamed she was about me working in a bar. I promised her I would never work another night at the bar. We'd just have to cut back on our spending and live on the money I made at the trailer factory.

Then...one day Buddy told me Tammy was being stalked. He didn't use that word..but said when they were out, this Mexican boy was always hanging around...and hung around outside the trailer when I wasn't home. Even though I was no longer working at the bar, I had gotten in the habit of going there for a few hours every Saturday night after the kids were in bed. So much for that!

The first Saturday night I stayed home, I was in the living room watching TV, with the lights off..when I saw a man at the window. In a few minutes Buddy came out and said the Mexican was looking in their window. By then I had turned on the lights and when I went outside, he was gone. This happened the next night...and the next...once I heard him try the front door, which was locked.

The following Saturday, Thanksgiving weekend, I was at Moms. Sue, my sister who lived in Kentucky was there, too. I was crying while telling her and Mom about the Mexican boy and how scared I was for Tammy. Sue gave me a small gun.

That night I sat on the couch, facing the door, with the loaded gun in my hand. There's not a doubt in my mind that if the Mexican...who I had learned was a 17 year old boy..had tried to get into the trailer, I would have shot him!

The next day, my Uncle Calvin and his wife Jan stopped by. When he saw the gun laying on top of the TV, he went ballistic! I explained what was going on and he yelled at me, "Have you lost your mind?" And I realized I had.

While I sat on the couch crying, the kids crowded around me, Joey on my lap, Uncle Calvin told Jan to take Tammy and pack us some clothes...that we were not spending another night in that trailer! It just shows how depressed I was that I not only allowed Uncle Calvin to tell me what to do, but to like it...even need it.

We followed Uncle Calvin to Mom's where he told her what was going on...yelling at her for allowing it. When I asked her if the kids and I could stay there until after Christmas...she said no. She said I had a husband in Detroit and should go to him. Mom didn't understand mental illness any better than I had before talking to Joe's doctor.

The kids and I ended up staying with my brother, Jimmy and his family. I planned to move back to Ypsilanti after Christmas. Avanelle invited us to stay with her until I got settled. I called Joe and told him what I was going to do and said he could stay at Avanelle's with us until I found us a place to live. He said no. He said that he had called my old boss...Al Klieman and Al told him he would give me a job whenever I wanted it.

Again, I was torn. Should I go back to Ypsilanti and start all over, knowing Joe was in Detroit but wouldn't live with us? Or should I stay in Indiana...near my family ...especially my brothers and sisters and Uncle Calvin ...all of whom I had grown very close to.

I never consciously made a decision. I kept working, driving from Palestine Lake to Nappanee every day. Then one day at work, a friend mentioned an apartment in Bremen she had looked at and said I should check it out. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I had put down a deposit and a month's rent, starting the first of January. So. We were staying in Indiana. Bremen was about 35 miles from Warsaw, just close enough to visit whenever I wanted to.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 43

Leaving Joe was really hard on all of us. My heart was breaking but I tried to keep it together for the kids. Both Tammy and Buddy were devastated. Tammy sobbed her little heart out for the first hour or so...and Buddy, sitting in the front seat by me, tried to be tough..telling Tammy he was glad to be leaving Kum's house. Tammy said she was glad of that, but wanted Joe with us. "Me too," he said, "but Joe says we can't get everything we want." Yet, he sat there looking out the side window and surreptitiously wiping his eyes every now and then. It made no difference to Joey, though. He had the three people who meant most to him!

I tried to reassure the kids, telling them we were only going to Indiana to wait until Joe got a place of our own then we'd go back...yet, the sinking feeling in my gut was saying it was over. My marriage, my dreams, my life. Now it was just me and my kids again.

We drove for about three hours...in the middle of the desert...and had a flat tire. In a station wagon, the spare is under the floor behind the third seat. We had to unload everything to get to the spare. By then a couple of men in a pickup had stopped to help us. Only to find the spare was also flat. They said the only thing they could do was go on in to Scottsdale, about 30 miles away, and send a tow truck. All in all, by the time the tow truck got there and fixed the tire, we spent about four hours sitting beside that road. The kids were great. They alternately played with Joey in the desert by the car and slept.

We stayed at a motel in Scottsdale and got an early start the next day. Overall, we took out time going to Indiana. We drove through the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. I opted not to drive the hundred or so miles to visit the grand canyon...a decision I've often regretted. We did go a little out of our way to see the meteor hole. We stopped at a few Indian villages and I bought the kids some cheap souvenirs. I really had to be frugal. I had left Joe all my money except for my allotment check of $80 ...and the credit card. I charged the gas and the motels and we used the money for food.

We stopped at a deserted western town and stayed a couple of hours where the kids could run off the excess energy and I could take a break from driving. Even though Joey was good, considering he was only 18 months old, after a few hours in the car he got really cranky. So, even though we were on the road from 8 in the morning until about 10 at night, we didn't cover a lot of miles because we stopped often.

Wednesday evening we crossed the Mississippi River, awed by the Arch, and stopped to eat. I explained that we were only six hour from Warsaw and could either get a motel for the night...or keep going, putting us at at Mom and Dad's about one a.m. Both Tammy and Buddy said to go on...they were anxious to get there. At the next gas stop, I called Mom collect and told her we'd be in between one and two...which was a surprise to her since she didn't know we'd left California.

It was the week before Easter when we got to Indiana...and we stayed with Mom and Dad the rest of April. Again the kids started a new school. I got a job in Nappanee at a trailer factory and rented a mobile home in Milford. We moved there the first of May...and again, the kids started a new school. This made four different schools in one school year...actually, four different schools in five months!

Two weeks after I got home, I got a disturbing letter from Joe. It scared me to death. He said he was living in a room in Los Angeles. The letter sounded like a suicide note. I didn't know what to do. I called Joe's uncle George in Detroit and read the letter to him. He told me to take care of my kids and he'd take care of Joe.

Uncle George called Kum Walter and, I guess, read him the riot act. Told him they had interfered enough in our lives and now it was up to them to find Joe and take care of him. I guess after we left, Joe and Kuma Lillian had words, to put it mildly. He accused her of running us off and she said it was his fault for being too lazy to take care of us. So, in a huff, he left them and went to LA...and got a room where he holed up, only leaving it to mail that letter to me...at the same time he sent a note to Kum asking them to put my stuff in storage. I had left all our kitchen stuff...pots, pan, dishes, silverware.. as well as all our linens, a console TV set, Joey's crib, all my picture albums, my silver tea set and a painting that the office had given me, as well as other odds and ends.

After Uncle George's call, Kum went to find Joe...and after some discussion, took Joe to Camarillo State Hospital where Joe voluntarily committed himself. And just walked away from Joe...with never another visit or phone call. Some Kum! The only contact Joe had with them again was some papers they sent to the Hospital for Joe to sign...including a Quit Claim Deed giving them back their house.

When I later called them and asked them to ship my stuff to me, Kuma said they had sold most of it a garage sale. I said then to send me the money, as well as the money I had paid on their house. She got all huffy and said the over $2,000 I had given them for back payments and utilities was rent and board for the two months we all stayed with them...and hung up on me. I never heard from her again...but when I visited friends in Detroit, I heard all kinds of lies she told them...such as we never paid them anything...and how good they treated us...while we were a couple of ingrates! Luckily, when I was at Kuma Eva's and she was telling me the worst of it, in my purse I had a couple of cancelled checks...endorsed by Walter, for over a thousand dollars.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 42

I wonder how many people can recognize mental illness when they're living with it. I didn't. In retrospect, I should have. Joe changed completely. The man I fell in love with was strong and confident, almost to the point of arrogance...generous, kind, loving, intelligent and was happiest when he was taking care of someone else. The man I left in California was stubborn, hesitant, dishonest (constant lying to me had started before he left Detroit.) He was willing to let someone else take control of his life. He didn't want to work. He was looking to make an easy buck..wanted to be a wheeler-dealer like Kum. One of the reasons I fell in love with him was because he made me feel like I could lean on him...I didn't have to be the strong one. Suddenly, that was gone.

I have been critisized by Joe's family and some members of our church, as well as by the Kums, over leaving Joe in California...choosing my kids over my husband. And I admit I did. In fact, I told him and the Kums that was what I was doing. My kids were unhappy. The atmosphere there was unhealthy for them. The way I saw it, I only had two choices. Leave Joe, but get a job and a place for me and the kids there in California...or go to Mom and Dad's. Staying there didn't feel right...I had no support network there. I felt going to Mom and Dad's gave Joe a message. He knew I did not like Indiana and didn't want to live there. By not going back to Ypsi, I was telling him it was temporary. Either he straightened up and came home or else got a job and a home for us to live there in California. At any rate, I was determined to get my children away from that house!

I didn't realize Joe was mentally ill. I thought he was lazy. And, like I said, he wanted to be a wheeler-dealer and make the big bucks that Kum bragged about making (yet he was on the verge of bankruptcy because he had poured every penny he could beg, borrow or steal into a big desert project...that I admit, a few years later made him a very wealthy man.)

More about Joe's illness later.

LIFE WITH MY CHILDREN PART 41

Not everything about our brief stay in California was bad. We actually did have some good times...especially when we, Joe, me and the kids, got out by ourselves away from the Kums.

We spent one Sunday in Tijuana. That day we took Pam with us and I had never seen so much happiness in that child. On the way down, we stopped at Capistrano but, of course, it was not the right time of the year to see the birds.

In Tijuana, we parked the car and walked...and walked...I don't think we missed a corner of that town. Downtown, itself, was only a few blocks ...with a circus-style atmosphere. Shop-owners..or their employees...would actually chase us down the sidewalk hawking their products. It was so colorful and noisy, we didn't know where to look first. One of the kids was constantly yelling for me to "Look, Mom...look."

We went into a liquor store to buy a small bottle of tiquilla as a souvenir. Buddy was amazed at the worm in each bottle. He asked the salesman what to do with the worm...and the salesman proceeded....as a wide-eyed eleven year old gaped...to take a big drink..and swallow the worm! Like Buddy, I didn't know whether to laugh or puke! We did buy a bottle of tequilla but I don't know what ever happened to it. We never opened it and as far as I know, left it at the Kums.

We stopped at an outdoors cafe and ordered real Mexican tacos...that tasted just like the ones at Taco Bell. And drank warm cokes with them. We could probably have gotten a glass of ice but were afraid of the water. Little Pam must have mentioned a dozen times during the day that we mustn't drink the water in Mexico.

It was late when we got home...to a lecture from Kuma about the next day being a school day, but we'd enjoyed the day so much, I just took Joey straight to bed, determined not to let her ruin my happy glow.

The second weekend we were there, Joe and the kids and I went to Los Angeles to see my cousin, Troy,Jr. and his family. We spent an enjoyable couple of hours with them...and went back once more while I was there. After that first visit, we left and went on a tour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills. We bought a map from a street vendor and drove by all the celebrity homes. We got a real thrill at Lucille Ball's house when we saw her get out of her car in her driveway. A lot of the homes were secluded behind walls and trees...but some, like Lucille Ball's were more open, visually. Buddy said he needed to use the bathroom and I dared him to go up and ring Lucille Ball's doorbell and ask her if he could use hers. Of course, he was too shy to do it.

We parked and walked down Rodeo Drive and window shopped. We fitted our feet in the footprints of the stars. And kept our eyes peeled watching for a celebrity but never saw nary a one. I took two rolls of pictures that, like the tiquilla, got left at Kums.

We never tired of the ocean. We had several overlook view points that we visited every day. When the kids got home from school, I would rush them into the car with me and Joey, and we'd take off for a couple of hours, sometimes just driving around...we especially liked to drive around Ojai...a beautiful area. Mostly, though, we'd park somewhere and just watch the ocean and the surfers.

Santa Barbara was just a half hour north of Ventura and we loved the beach and park there. That was where we spent most Saturdays. There was always exhibits by "starving artists" and I could spend hours just walking and looking at the paintings...but didn't get to. One, Joey was too rambunctious and two, Buddy and Tammy got bored looking at paintings. It was okay with me, I was just as happy to sit at a picnic bench while they ran and played on the beach.

One week we had a severe storm...well, actually the storm was out at sea. We had a lot of rain, but the waves were huge! The kids came home from school early because the waves were washing up to the road. They came home with stories about watching the waves out of the bus windows, that broke just a few feet from the road. I put them in the car and we drove as close to the ocean as we could...which wasn't very close as the police had the roads blocked. But we did get to a spot where we could park and watch the waves come in. There was a long pier, the length of several football fields, out into the ocean with many vendor booths on it. That pier was completely underwater. Houses up to three blocks from the beach were nearly underwater. In fact, Kum's house was on a hill and the water was at the bottom of the street. The next day all the water was gone...back into the sea.

I spent one unforgettable Satuday night there. Kums took Joe and me to a play and cast party afterwards at the Masquer's Club. I had read about the Masquers Club for years in Movie magazines and was thrilled to be able to actually see it. The play was good...Three on a Match...but the cast party was a night to remember...for me anyway. Because Kum Walter was a wheeler-dealer in real estate, he knew and often rubbed elbows (his phrase) with celebrities and political figures. He knew everybody!

After the play, we sat at a table with the female star of the show, Sandy Dennis and her husband. Sandy had a little boy the same age as Joey and we shared baby stories. She invited me to bring Joey over and we made a date for the following week.

Bob Denver was the male star of the show. I was shaking in my shoes when he asked me to dance...then kept me on the floor through at least six songs. He even asked me to leave and go someplace else with him and I said...okay, as soon as I ask my husband! Then I took him over the table where Joe was sitting with Kum Walter and several other men and introduced them.

Bob said after that, the least he could do was introduce me to the person who I had been watching all the time we were dancing. He took me to the bar and said, "Duke, I've got somebody here who wants to meet you." Believe me, I was so star-struck I couldn't breathe. John Wayne took my hand and said, "hello there, little lady." Bob Denver leaned down and whispered in my ear, "breathe!" I stood there for a few minutes while the two men talked..then John asked me who I was there with. I told him my husband, Joe, and pointed to the table where he was sitting...and John said, "Oh, he's with Walter"...and not in a pleasant tone. Just then Joe motioned for me to come there, so I said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Wayne." To which he replied, "It's John, or Duke if you prefer." Then he kissed me...right on the lips" Just a quick peck...but still!! and said he was glad he met me, too.

I floated over to Joe's table where he and all the men, who had been watching my encounter my John Wayne, started teasing me about being kissed by the Duke, himself...and teasing Joe that he had some big boots to fill now.

Joey and I did go to visit Sandy Dennis, three different times. She was a wonderful, warm, generous, kind woman. And I don't know just what I expected a big star to be like, but she wasn't like one. She baked cookies and played with our babies. She gave Joey two outfits that were too big for her baby. The last visit to her house, I told her I was planning to leave the first of April and she said she was sorry to hear that and would miss our weekly visits. We had fast become friends and I'm sure had I stayed there, that friendship would have grown. After I got to Indiana, we corresponded a few times. Then one of us, maybe me, didn't answer a letter...and the relationship died.