Just Me And Life


I have a friend who wanted to know more about me. I suppose, it is so hard to really write about yourself and especially for me. I have always been a bit private concerning my life and the lives of my friends.

I was born in Oregon, but I grew up in Iowa.

I did not have any relatives, other than my free spirited mother and a very ancient, great uncle. He was 83 years old when I had my twenty-first birthday and I loved him with all of my heart. What about my father? My mother had enough of his wealthy family, telling her what to do and him leaving a good job in the family firm, to go out to sea for months at a time,  (she told me often) as a captain of a Merchant Marine ship. She said he would be out for months at a time and then, maybe home for a month, before he left out again. Her neat business man she had married became a man who loved the sea more than her, is what she thought and told everyone. I found out many years later, that if he had been given the opportunity, he would have chosen her, but then who knows for sure.

My parents were married for three years, before they knew I was going to enter their lives. Then, when I was three months old, my mother took me and just left. My father? He was in the sea on a ship just like when I was born, so I have been told. I never saw or knew my father after that. As far, as she was concerned... that was the end of that chapter in her life and she was going to start a new chapter, just as soon as possible.  

She moved to California and work for the Douglas Aircraft. When she wasn't working, she was flying high and low, as a free spirit and living every moment of her life as an unsettled butterfly.  She was beautiful and she knew it. Which in my opinion made her unattractive and undependable with all of her relationships and believe me, there were many.

Time went by quickly for me, as I grew up to be an adult, I came to realize how valuable family, friends and relationships were to me. My mother, unknowingly, taught me that an education, family, friends and commitments were not to be taken lightly and I did have choices. I never wanted more friends than I could devote time and a "real" relationship with. I wanted to be there whenever they needed someone to talk with, cry with and those times of laughing with.

My mother was not domestic. She was 100% party girl and life was her party and men were her favorite party favors. I felt like I was the one raising her... at times. I found myself at the age of twelve, cooking, cleaning, going to school and waiting up for her to come home. (smile)  Sometimes, that was a very interesting experience. As Roe, would say... another story. (I smile every time she writes that.)

My mother lived in a fashion world of six inch high-heels, mini skirts and maxi coats, while I spent most of my time with my own fashion, of cut off jeans, men's long white shirts and barefoot and i never heard the end of her disapproval of my choice of cloths. (laugh) Now, as I look back she may have been right, but it was such a comfortable fashion for me. Oh, and I always carried a book, and an eight track player with "Stepin Wolf", the "Rolling Stones" and Janis Joplin, blaring from its speaker, instead of a purse. That really got her going on a long winded lecture.  She just could not tolerate Janis Joplin screaming from her heart and tried to introduce me to Patsy Cline. It didn't work! (laugh) Those were the days of butting heads between mother and daughter! Listening to patsy Cline, was not happening!

I never got into the marijuana, booze, LSD or any of the other drugs that were so easy to get in those days. That was a good decision that I was thankful for, as I watched a few friends throw their life away for the drugs. 

One day, after my fourteenth birthday, my great uncle enrolled me into a private girls school. It only had room for twenty-four girls, twelve per dorm. There was a blue dorm and a green dorm. How ridiculous! I had to say goodbye to Stepin wolf, the Rolling Stones and there was no way, I was going to get Janice Joplin and her screaming messages, within the doors of that school! The jeans, white shirts and bare-feet, was replaced by dresses, silk pantie-hose and high heels, I could not even stand in, let alone walk in. By the time my mother and great uncle came to visit, I was not only wearing those horrible clothes, but I was even able to walk in those heels with a six inch book balanced on my head too! Yeah! I made it! I was able to graduate at sixteen years old and move forward with my chosen path.... child psychology, ancient history and religion and then several years latter, criminal law.

I walked out of that private school with a wonderful education, a new focus on fashion, polished into a lady and knowing how to finally walk in heels, without falling on my face.  When I got home, I went straight to my bedroom and pulled out, Stepin Wolf, the Rolling Stones and my screaming Janis Joplin's, eight tracks from a box in my closet, kicked off those heels, pealed off those silk stockings, threw on some cut-offs, a white men's shirt and headed out the door, bare-foot with Janis Screaming "Piece of My Heart", for the last time.

My great uncle passed away a few months after my wedding day. It was from natural causes.

My mother passed away at the age of sixty eight, on Valentine's Day, from Ovarian Cancer. She was still wearing high heels until she became sick. 

I did not graduate from high school, because I was extraordinarily smart. I graduated early, because there was nothing else to do, but study. It was an excellent school and I am thankful, I had the opportunity to have experienced it. But, even though it taught you the desire to learn, clean, run a household, money, fashion and etiquette... it was very lacking in preparing a person, concerning the many interactions you have with people in the real world

I went off to college and learned to drink lots of coffee, to help me keep my eyes open and to help my mind to function, while studying for exams. Many of my friends were experimenting with boys, booze and a few drugs and were enjoying every minute of life with freedom.  I, on the other hand, was just too serious about my direction in Life and just a bit to shy and afraid to consider dating any guy.  

I got through it all and obtain a job that was a little short of being a "Girl Friday".  I was running errands, going for coffee for the office, answering the phones and not being able to do any of my "real" job title duties. But, through this unfulfilled job, it gave me the opportunity to meet, Alan, and live a truly enchanting life.
One afternoon, I was asked to deliver some documents to the newspaper office on my way home. I was tired and depressed over my ridiculous employment at the Children's Psychiatry Clinic and the thought of having to deliver documents to the newspaper office was also very annoying to me.  I went into that office like a flash. I was in a hurry and I was already becoming very late, for a dinner appointment with my great uncle. What else could possibly go wrong? 
I dropped the documents on the counter and faced a lady who looked like a vicious bull dog. "What is this!" she almost bit me as she blurted out her words. I just stood there thinking, now what? She had to have known I was going to drop them off. I notice the most hansom guy, I think I had ever seen, sitting behind a desk in the corner of the office. When our eyes met, he jumped from his chair like a flash and came over to where I stood and said, with a smile as bright as sunshine, , "Wow! Where did you come from?"

 "I came from the street with documents that evidently were not expected.!" I blurted back without thinking. I was so annoyed and this guy was making me so uncomfortable standing there with his good looks, friendliness and  beaming smile.

This only made him smile even more as he noticed my discomfort and irritation.

"Have lunch with me tomorrow." 

I have no idea what made me say, "Sure, Mr. Sunshine, I would love to have lunch with you tomorrow." But, I did.
That was the beginning of my new and very enchanting life. We were very attracted to each other and we found, we were 100% compatible and the best of friends to each other too. He was my first date, my first boyfriend, my first crush, my first "real" friend, my first love and the first person to ever die within my arms.    
He was my first real heartbreak, when he took his last breath and the pain was so deep within me at that moment, that I thought I wanted to die, right there and then.... and go with him. But, as you can see, I didn't. I felt like a broken down vehicle, towed to a junk yard, waiting to be demolished. If it hadn't been for the widows pushing, poking and shoving me slowly into life again, I would have become a recluse within my own memories and surroundings.
The first thing they (the widows) did was haul me off to the beauty shop. My once long, to the waist hair, was cut into a shoulder length, shag and the dark circles that had developed under my eyes, that made me resemble a raccoon, were treated with huge ice tea bags. I had always looked much younger than my actual age, but now.... I was not sure what I saw in the mirror, but it certainly was not me. 
Next, was a shopping spree. According to them I was to replace everything with a new, modern, wardrobe of tight jeans that caused you to not be able to breath, tank tops that almost didn't cover your boobs, PJ's replaced with skimpy little shorts and spaghetti string tops and  dresses that flowed with every move. To top all of that off, a get together at Zoey's once a month for a margarita was mandatory. No coffee was allowed and not more than two margaritas for the evening. I felt like a walking, talking, make-over and I was not happy.
I found I was changing, little by little with each passing day and then, one morning, I saw the sun peeking through the curtains and I greeted it with, "Good morning Mr. Sunshine, I am ready to live, the rest of my life!"
So, that is what I have been trying to express and share, as I write at Thoughts.com, all of the memories of widowhood, adventures and endeavors created by a group of widows, who decided to live and not only help each other, but others as well, to want to live again.
My friends, are welcome to share the struggles, the laughter and the disappointments that follow us along, on our future path of living.... life. 
      The End....... or is it just the beginning? (smile)
journalwriter journalwriter
51-55, F
Jul 13, 2010