Small Joys

This morning I woke up thinking about all the little things that bring us happy memories. 

Today's thought was back being a kid, traveling to Grandma's farm in Minnesota, and I remembered just how good the well water tasted.   We'd walk outside with the water pail and pump water from the ground.  There was running water in her house, but well water tasted that much better!  No matter the outdoor temp, the well water was always cold.  We'd dip it out of the water pail with a stainless steel cup.

Grandma always kept the water pail sitting on the counter near the back corner of the kitchen counter.  This is the only photo I could find where parts of the kitchen showed.  There's Grandma baking up some kind of dessert for after supper! 

Now that everyone (including me!) drinks water from a bottle, sourced from goodness knows where, or processed in some kind of facility, it's hard to remember how it was "back in the day".   I have to say that I think I miss those days.  Most of moments in every day was filled with little chores that needed doing in order to just keep going.   Living took thoughtful planning.  If you needed something for dinner, you didn't just open a freezer door and pop something in the microwave.  If you planned on a roast for dinner, most times you took it out of the freezer in the morning, left it to thaw, then began the cooking process in the afternoon.  If you wanted a cake for dessert, you needed to get baking in the late morning, or early afternoon, because both the cake pan and the roasting pan might not fit in the oven at the same time.   When the nearest grocery store was 20 miles to town, you made sure you bought what you needed for the week, because you couldn't just zip around the corner to grab something on your way home!  Although, if you were a mindful gardener, you could pick something out in the vegetable garden. 

"Sometimes, you never know the true value of of a moment until it becomes a memory."

Family Stories

It's funny how when something .... out of the ordinary is going on, it affects many different things.  Lately, I've been dredging up old memories and trying to tell the story of what happened with my daughter and "the sperm donor" of my granddaughter.   His name was Tony, and he was a piece of work -- one of those fast talking, thinks he's so smooth kind of guys.  Always a story about the next big $core coming his way. 

All of this was 17 years ago.  There's a part of me who wants to agree with how my grandmother handled personal history:  what's in the past should stay in the past! is what she would tell me.  But with my interest in all the parts of genealogy, I get that it's important to know things.  Personally, being able to track the daughter, mother, grandmother, great grandmother ...... well, the line itself is good to know, I've always been after the part where there's "more to the story".

I have many old black and white photos of my grandmother and her family. But nothing tells about why the photo was taken, or if it was for an occasion.  Sisters all dressed in black and looking sad -- was it for a funeral?  Who's funeral?  I'm a big believer in making sure I write about each photo I take because someone may want to know!  Or maybe I'm one of the rare odd ones???  We'll never know.


All that said, it's for these reasons that I've agreed to share my part of the story with my granddaughter.  And with whomever ends up reading this blog in the future.

Dear B:   I understand your having questions about your father, and the need to know a little something about him.  I'll tell you that I got the OK from your mom first of all to answer what I can about him.  I won't call him your "dad", because he never was a dad.  A dad is someone who loves you, takes care of you.  You know all about a dad, because you have A now, and that's a real dad. 

In truth, I have no idea where Tony is now.  And as much as I can understand your wanting to know, I'm not sure you'll be happy with very much of what I have to say about him.  I don't want to skim the surface with a name and a few facts.  I think the story leading up to when you were born is important for you to know.  I'm just not sure you're ready or wanting to hear the things that need to be said. 

While we are all created by the two people who made us, the person we really are happens because of the people around us, who love us, help us to grow and learn, help us to be who we're meant to be.  And in truth, he wasn't a part of any of that, in any way. 

His name is Tony.  I don't know where your mom met him, but Hamilton, Ohio is a small town.

To start the story, I'm going to tell you about your mom:

When your mom turned 18, she was very happy with her newfound freedom.  She was working part time at Meijer's (a store similar to Walmart).  She had graduated from high school, and it was time to find her way into adulthood.  But as with every teenager, sometimes you make bad decisions.

One night, she decided to go out "cruising" with her friend in her TBird.  This is definitely a road car, not a car made for driving dirt or gravel roads out in the country.  Because I'm the Mom, I am not certain if there was some alcohol consumed that affected her decision making.  But she decided to drive her car on the mountain of dirt behind the local Walmart store.  The car got stuck in some very deep potholes; the road up and down again was muddy because of the rain.  It took a tow truck to get her car out of there.

This was just an example of how a "good time" can easily turn into a bad situation because what feels right to us in our teen years isn't always what's best for us in the long run.  (And yes, she was grounded from driving; we removed the wheels from the car and locked them up!!)

It was shortly after this that she met Tony.  Being as headstrong as she was, she was sure he was "all that" and then some!  Being a parent means letting your kids have a little freedom while still trying to guide them to be the best person they could be.  That was my job.  And when I was introduced to Tony, I didn't see him as "all that" like your mom did, but I tried to be patient, and see what happens.  I tried to see the good things that your mom saw.  But I didn't like that he was a smooth talker, trying to talk fast and impress people with things that we found out weren't true in the end.  I didn't trust him much, but trusted your mom.  I think she saw him through "love goggles" and couldn't see the bigger picture.

Your mom was busy working, but Tony didn't have a job.  And to me that didn't sit right.  (Personally, I think a relationship needs to have balance between the two persons in a relationship.)  And it didn't seem like that was the case.  Thanksgiving came along and Tony had dinner with our family.   I have a picture from this day, but I'll have to dig it up on my next day off.

As for the off road experience your mom had, I got side tracked and forgot why I included that little tidbit in my little story.  First, can you see your mom deciding to take her little blue car out on rough terrain roads?   Lol, no, I can't either.  That's because as we get older and mature, we make better decisions than what we make when we're just 18, because we can see the bigger picture.   Sometimes our actions affect other people around us, and our little teenage brains don't comprehend that until later in life.  My point about that is when you have your first "real love" it can feel like such a great thing when in fact, the "love goggles" part makes us kind of blind to the real truth about things, about the circumstance and sometimes about the other person and how they really are. 

I'm sure you've come across friends at school who seem like they're fun to hang with, but when you watch them close, you can see that they're sometimes mean in their comments about another person, or that they tell little lies or spread rumors.  "Love goggles" make you blind to those kinds of things.

To answer your question, I know that Tony was in prison because he committed crime(s).  What his term in prison was for at this time, I would only be venturing a guess based on events that happened. 

I'm sure you'll let me know when you're ready for more of the story.

Love, 

Grandma

Precious and Few!

Precious and few

are the moments

we two can share!

My daughter, Tanya, was the first grandchild, and is the only granddaughter.  I know she holds a special place in the heart of her Grandpa! 
Just look at how they smile at each other.....
(1982)

 What children need most are the essentials 

that grandparents provide in abundance.  

They give unconditional love, kindness, 

patience, humor, comfort, lessons in life.  

And, most importantly, cookies.  

~Rudolph Giuliani