After my mom died, Dad said that he had no intetions of marrying again. No one was expecting Virginia to come along. After he married her, one of the things he told me about her was that she was abused as a child by her father. Dad asked me, "Did I ever abuse you kids/" That was just rediculous. He did have a temper and got mad about stupid things, but he never abused anybody.
When I was a child about nine years old, Dad hit me. That was the one and only time it ever happened. He felt really bad and apologized.
When I think of my dad. I think of him singing, "I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen." I have memories of riding with him in his truck and sitting on his lap eating popcorn and watching the fights. I thought he was funny. I was proud to have my friends meet him.
He put up with a lot from me. I used to melt holes in his steering wheel with the cigarette lighter in his car. He got mad but he never over reacted.
When us kids grew into adults, he stayed involved in our lives. I remember him going to a biker's bar looking for my brother, Steve. He didn't like mental health, but he took me to the crisis worker and the University Medical Center many times, sometimes in the middle of the night.
When he lived in Midvale and I lived in different apartments he helped me in many situations. He could solve almost any problem. One time in particular, I accidently threw my keys in the dumpster. I thought I was going to have to climb in the dumpster to get my keys. I thought I could get in it, but I didn't know how to get out. Dad solved my problem. He brought over a long stick with a magnet on the end, people use them to collect pop cans out of dumpsters. Dad got my keys out, once again to the rescue.
I miss you, Daddy
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Guilty
I'm not good at a lot of things, but there is one thing that I am very good at. That is feeling guilty. I can feel responsible for almost anything. I've never murdered anybody, but there have been times when I wished I could get someone to disappear, just to get them out of my life. I'm not responsible for the Viet Nam war, but I feel guilty that I wasn't more sensitive to the soldiers who had returned home.
I've tried to turn my life around and I'm doing better. I need to do more where the church is concerned. I also need to be more friendly and helpful. I need to focus on myself less. When I try to be nice, it seems like I am doing it for the good feeling I get. There I go, thinking about myself again.
I've tried to turn my life around and I'm doing better. I need to do more where the church is concerned. I also need to be more friendly and helpful. I need to focus on myself less. When I try to be nice, it seems like I am doing it for the good feeling I get. There I go, thinking about myself again.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Singing
Some of my first childhood memories are about singing. When I was 5 years old my favorite songs to sing were, "The Tennessee Waltz," "How Much is That Doggie in the Window?" and "Rudolf the Red Nosed Raindeer."
When I was a young child, I sang solos in church. I was proud of myself. In fifth grade, I sang in front of the school class. I sang, "The Wayward Wind" and The Banana Boat Song." The kids really liked it. One girl said that I was as good as Elvis.
Singing runs in my family. My dad had a beautiful voice. Her sang for church socials and funerals all his life. On his eightieth birthday party, he sang "Stay As Sweet As You Are" to my mother.
When my brother, Bill, was a teenager, he sang in a quartet on a local radio station. I told my friend at school that my brother sang on the radio in a group called The Four Pegs She thought I was talking about The Four Preps. When The Four Preps appeared on American Bandstand, she called me, anxious to know which one was my brother. I had to tell her that he wasn't in The Four Preps. I was embarrassed.
I always like to sing in the bathroom. The accoustics are good in there. One time I was in the bathroom at school, singing my heart out, one song after another, really belting them out. A little girl came in and told me that the teacher sent her in to tell me that I was disturbing the class next door.
As a teenager, my sister Jan and I sang duets. We usually sang "Young and Foolish." We sang at church dinners and parties. In church meetings, we usually sang, "I'll Walk With God." Jan pursued her singing and became a proffesional opera singer. She worked hard to train her voice and her singing is remarkable.
I learned to play the guitar in college. I used to love to play and sing, but I hardly ever pick it up anymore. I don't remember very many songs. I tried to write my own songs, but the songs I wrote we not good at all.
I still like music. I still sing in the shower, but I don't think anybody hears me. It's just as well.
When I was a young child, I sang solos in church. I was proud of myself. In fifth grade, I sang in front of the school class. I sang, "The Wayward Wind" and The Banana Boat Song." The kids really liked it. One girl said that I was as good as Elvis.
Singing runs in my family. My dad had a beautiful voice. Her sang for church socials and funerals all his life. On his eightieth birthday party, he sang "Stay As Sweet As You Are" to my mother.
When my brother, Bill, was a teenager, he sang in a quartet on a local radio station. I told my friend at school that my brother sang on the radio in a group called The Four Pegs She thought I was talking about The Four Preps. When The Four Preps appeared on American Bandstand, she called me, anxious to know which one was my brother. I had to tell her that he wasn't in The Four Preps. I was embarrassed.
I always like to sing in the bathroom. The accoustics are good in there. One time I was in the bathroom at school, singing my heart out, one song after another, really belting them out. A little girl came in and told me that the teacher sent her in to tell me that I was disturbing the class next door.
As a teenager, my sister Jan and I sang duets. We usually sang "Young and Foolish." We sang at church dinners and parties. In church meetings, we usually sang, "I'll Walk With God." Jan pursued her singing and became a proffesional opera singer. She worked hard to train her voice and her singing is remarkable.
I learned to play the guitar in college. I used to love to play and sing, but I hardly ever pick it up anymore. I don't remember very many songs. I tried to write my own songs, but the songs I wrote we not good at all.
I still like music. I still sing in the shower, but I don't think anybody hears me. It's just as well.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Let's Go Get Some More Popcorn
I took my little brother Steve, to the movies downtown. He was about ten or eleven years old. We were sitting in the dark theater watching James Bond. on the screen. A man came along and sat by me. because it was dark, I couldn't see him very well. I heard a noise next to me and I realized that the man was unzipping his pants. I didn't want Steve to know. You might say I was feeling protective. I said, "Steve, let's go get some popcorn."
After getting the popcorn we returned, purposely sitting somewhere else. The man came over and sat by us and again proceeded to unzip. "Steve," I said, "I'm thirsty. Let's go get a drink." When we came back from getting a drink, it happened again. I was getting more scared and Steve was getting annoyed about getting up so much during the movie.
Finally, the last time we went out and came back in, I found two seats for me and Steve on the aisle, next to a family. The pervert wasn't able to sit by us.
We stayed 'till the end of the movie. I don't know whether Steve knew what was going on or not..
After getting the popcorn we returned, purposely sitting somewhere else. The man came over and sat by us and again proceeded to unzip. "Steve," I said, "I'm thirsty. Let's go get a drink." When we came back from getting a drink, it happened again. I was getting more scared and Steve was getting annoyed about getting up so much during the movie.
Finally, the last time we went out and came back in, I found two seats for me and Steve on the aisle, next to a family. The pervert wasn't able to sit by us.
We stayed 'till the end of the movie. I don't know whether Steve knew what was going on or not..
Monday, January 16, 2012
Judy My Long Time Friend
I think people know how Judy and I became friends. It was in 1979. All she could think of to talk to me about was my cat "Sam." I thought she was strange, but I didn't realize she was slow. I invited her to a movie. From that day on, she followed me where ever I went. One day I wanted to go home and take a nap. I was living with Mom and Dad then. She followed me. I didn't know how to tell her to leave, so I went in my bedroom, leaving her sitting in the living room with my mother. She sat there a few minutes and then left.
Judy had a way of moving in with people, by going to visit them and just never leaving.. When she did that to me, I tried to tell her to leave, but she just laughed at me. She used to laugh at Mom too. Mom would say, "If you're going to laugh at me, you can just leave." Just laughed more.
After all these years, I think I've figured out why and how Judy does that. Being slow, her mother did everything for her. Her mother died when she was twenty two. She was left to live with her father, who was a grumpy old man that couldn't take of himself let alone anyone else. He married a woman who he met on dial a date. She and Judy did not get along.
Somehow, she ended up in Reno by herself. She couldn't find a place to live, She stayed in a couple of places that took her money and kicked her out. Having nowhere to go she ended up in the Nevada State Hospital. Judy definately has a mental illness and can be very hard to get along with. Her brothers and sisters seem to be afraid that she will want to live with them. She would like to live with her sister Billie, but Billie and her husband we able to tell her no. Judy still feels hurt by that.
In Salt Lake she tried to live alone. People that she knew from mental health visited her a lot. She has a way of getting people to take care of her. It amazes me, even though I am the one who takes care of her the most. She moves in with people who will take care of her. That's the way she survives. She may be slow, but she knows how to get her needs met..
Judy can't accept anything, from having mental issues to the color of her hair. She has this thing about her hair. She wants blond hair and she gets angry if you tell her it's dark. In reality it is almost black. She is always asking people about her hair, what color it is, if it's curly or wavy or straight. You need to know the right answer, because the truth makes her angry. You also have to lie to her about her weight and many other things.
When I lived with her, she complained if I left her alone for fifteen minutes to take a shower. She was afraid the phone would ring or someone would knock on the door.
I practically had to force her to take a shower. One time she was in the bathtub saying "I don't want to take a bath." One thing I refused to do for her was to help her with her shower or washing her hair. Some people might do that, but not me.
She has a sort of obscessive compulsive thing that makes her feel like she has to get rid of things. I get angry with her when she gets rid of my stuff, but it doesn't do any good.
So, if you wonder why I hang around Judy. It's because she has been with me for thirty years. I'm used to her. She acts like she likes me and she cares about me. I confess, I like her too, faults and all.
Judy had a way of moving in with people, by going to visit them and just never leaving.. When she did that to me, I tried to tell her to leave, but she just laughed at me. She used to laugh at Mom too. Mom would say, "If you're going to laugh at me, you can just leave." Just laughed more.
After all these years, I think I've figured out why and how Judy does that. Being slow, her mother did everything for her. Her mother died when she was twenty two. She was left to live with her father, who was a grumpy old man that couldn't take of himself let alone anyone else. He married a woman who he met on dial a date. She and Judy did not get along.
Somehow, she ended up in Reno by herself. She couldn't find a place to live, She stayed in a couple of places that took her money and kicked her out. Having nowhere to go she ended up in the Nevada State Hospital. Judy definately has a mental illness and can be very hard to get along with. Her brothers and sisters seem to be afraid that she will want to live with them. She would like to live with her sister Billie, but Billie and her husband we able to tell her no. Judy still feels hurt by that.
In Salt Lake she tried to live alone. People that she knew from mental health visited her a lot. She has a way of getting people to take care of her. It amazes me, even though I am the one who takes care of her the most. She moves in with people who will take care of her. That's the way she survives. She may be slow, but she knows how to get her needs met..
Judy can't accept anything, from having mental issues to the color of her hair. She has this thing about her hair. She wants blond hair and she gets angry if you tell her it's dark. In reality it is almost black. She is always asking people about her hair, what color it is, if it's curly or wavy or straight. You need to know the right answer, because the truth makes her angry. You also have to lie to her about her weight and many other things.
When I lived with her, she complained if I left her alone for fifteen minutes to take a shower. She was afraid the phone would ring or someone would knock on the door.
I practically had to force her to take a shower. One time she was in the bathtub saying "I don't want to take a bath." One thing I refused to do for her was to help her with her shower or washing her hair. Some people might do that, but not me.
She has a sort of obscessive compulsive thing that makes her feel like she has to get rid of things. I get angry with her when she gets rid of my stuff, but it doesn't do any good.
So, if you wonder why I hang around Judy. It's because she has been with me for thirty years. I'm used to her. She acts like she likes me and she cares about me. I confess, I like her too, faults and all.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Looking for Church
When my family moved from Midvale, Utah to Idaho Falls, I got an apartment with my girlfriends. I was working at Sweets Candy Co. I had a boyfriend, David, who I was planning to marry in the temple.
My roomates didn't share my religious beliefs and made fun of me for wanting to go to church. We moved into an apartment in the Avenues of Salt Lake City, just because we wanted a bigger place. David and I had put off the wedding.
I wanted to go to church, but I didn't know what ward I was in or even where the church house was. Every Sunday morning, I would put on my dress and go looking for the ward house. I never found it. My roomate, Helene thought that was really funny.
Though I didn't attend church, I still had a testimony and continued to pray. I didn't want my roomates to catch me praying, because they didn't have reverence for religious things. I prayed in the bathroom, thinking I wouldn't be disturbed in there.
My relationship with David was getting stressful. It became apparent that he had no respect for me and had no intentions of marrying me. It was a difficult situation for both of us. I did a lot of praying in the bathroom.
On night when I was in the bathroom praying, Helene started pounding on the door, saying "What are you doing in there?" Helene could be rude.
We decided to move out. Helene went to her mothers. My other two roomates went to live with their boyfriends. I went to live with my aunt and uncle, Maxine and Royal. I didn't go back to church until I moved to California with my parents.
My roomates didn't share my religious beliefs and made fun of me for wanting to go to church. We moved into an apartment in the Avenues of Salt Lake City, just because we wanted a bigger place. David and I had put off the wedding.
I wanted to go to church, but I didn't know what ward I was in or even where the church house was. Every Sunday morning, I would put on my dress and go looking for the ward house. I never found it. My roomate, Helene thought that was really funny.
Though I didn't attend church, I still had a testimony and continued to pray. I didn't want my roomates to catch me praying, because they didn't have reverence for religious things. I prayed in the bathroom, thinking I wouldn't be disturbed in there.
My relationship with David was getting stressful. It became apparent that he had no respect for me and had no intentions of marrying me. It was a difficult situation for both of us. I did a lot of praying in the bathroom.
On night when I was in the bathroom praying, Helene started pounding on the door, saying "What are you doing in there?" Helene could be rude.
We decided to move out. Helene went to her mothers. My other two roomates went to live with their boyfriends. I went to live with my aunt and uncle, Maxine and Royal. I didn't go back to church until I moved to California with my parents.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Between Me and My Mom
When I look back on my family, I notice that my mom had a special relationship with each of her children.
In my twentys, living in Midvale with my family, Mom and I struggled. I wanted to be independant and for the first time in my life, I had a social life. I enjoyed being with my friends. Mom worried about the kind of things we were doing. We really didn't do very much wrong. She told me that family is more important than friends. You always have your family, while friends come and go.
When my family moved to Ventura, California. I lived with Mom and Dad and Steve. I had boyfriends who came over, took me out and talked to me on the phone. Mom waatched me as I went in and out of the house with my boyfriends. She seemed OK with it until one evening when I didn't come home until 3:00am. She was sitting there in the rocking chair, wrapped up in a blanket. She told me that if it happened again, I would find my belongings on the front porch.
When Mom and Dad moved from Ventura to Sacramento, California and then to Utah, I stayed in Ventura, living alone. Mom and I had an arrangement She would call me once a week on a Saturday and I would call her the following week on a Saturday. I really enjoyed those telephone conversations.
When life became tough for me in Ventura, I was able to keep most of the hospital stuff away from them. I didn't want them to worry. When Mom found out about my last hospital stay, it became obvious that I couldn't handle it by myself anymore. My parents came down and packed me up to move to Utah.
I lived with my parents for quite a while. My illness progressed. I spent a lot of time at mental health and made some friends. Something inside me drives me to be independant. I moved in and out of apartments and back and forth with my parents. Mom and Dad tried to help with everything going on. They supported me in all my crisises.
Mom started falling down a lot. She broke her arm a couple of times. One day she called me in my apartment and was talking jibberish. She couldn't form words. I didn't know what was wrong. It didn't occur to me that she was having a stroke. She called my sister, Jan who told Dad to take Mom to the hospital because she could be having a stroke.
While recovering from her stroke, Mom became very depressed. One day when I was sitting with her she talked about dying. She said that at the most she had ten more years to live. She told me about the will and everything.
I have such a tremendous warmth in my heart when I think of Mom. The last time I saw her she was paralized, unable to move anything except her eyes and her right arm. She was trapped in there. As much as I wanted her to be with me, I couldn't stand to see her like that. Though that was the last time I saw her, I have other memories of her that I prefer to think about.
Goodbye Mom. I can't wait to see you again.
In my twentys, living in Midvale with my family, Mom and I struggled. I wanted to be independant and for the first time in my life, I had a social life. I enjoyed being with my friends. Mom worried about the kind of things we were doing. We really didn't do very much wrong. She told me that family is more important than friends. You always have your family, while friends come and go.
When my family moved to Ventura, California. I lived with Mom and Dad and Steve. I had boyfriends who came over, took me out and talked to me on the phone. Mom waatched me as I went in and out of the house with my boyfriends. She seemed OK with it until one evening when I didn't come home until 3:00am. She was sitting there in the rocking chair, wrapped up in a blanket. She told me that if it happened again, I would find my belongings on the front porch.
When Mom and Dad moved from Ventura to Sacramento, California and then to Utah, I stayed in Ventura, living alone. Mom and I had an arrangement She would call me once a week on a Saturday and I would call her the following week on a Saturday. I really enjoyed those telephone conversations.
When life became tough for me in Ventura, I was able to keep most of the hospital stuff away from them. I didn't want them to worry. When Mom found out about my last hospital stay, it became obvious that I couldn't handle it by myself anymore. My parents came down and packed me up to move to Utah.
I lived with my parents for quite a while. My illness progressed. I spent a lot of time at mental health and made some friends. Something inside me drives me to be independant. I moved in and out of apartments and back and forth with my parents. Mom and Dad tried to help with everything going on. They supported me in all my crisises.
Mom started falling down a lot. She broke her arm a couple of times. One day she called me in my apartment and was talking jibberish. She couldn't form words. I didn't know what was wrong. It didn't occur to me that she was having a stroke. She called my sister, Jan who told Dad to take Mom to the hospital because she could be having a stroke.
While recovering from her stroke, Mom became very depressed. One day when I was sitting with her she talked about dying. She said that at the most she had ten more years to live. She told me about the will and everything.
I have such a tremendous warmth in my heart when I think of Mom. The last time I saw her she was paralized, unable to move anything except her eyes and her right arm. She was trapped in there. As much as I wanted her to be with me, I couldn't stand to see her like that. Though that was the last time I saw her, I have other memories of her that I prefer to think about.
Goodbye Mom. I can't wait to see you again.
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