After moping around all night Thursday and Friday morning I made the decision to bite the bullet and  drive out to Western Kansas to be with Daniel for both his niece's wedding and his father's funeral. Saturday morning, after making all the arrangements to get the girls to their separate softball tournaments I took off. He had no idea I was driving the four hours out there and I had to keep in touch with him via text to know where he would be. As I pulled up in front of his sister's house I called his cell but told him I couldn't hear him very well and would he mind stepping outside. His jaw dropped when he saw me standing in the driveway. The look on his face was well worth the long ass drive.

The wedding Saturday night was very nice. The open bar at the reception was even nicer and we took full advantage of it as did many of the other guests. We drank, we ate, we danced, and then we drank some more. There were the occasional tears whenever someone would verbalize how much Norm would have loved the party and when the band played his song, Elvira, we all danced  and sang in his honor. I have no doubt he was there dancing with us.

The next couple of days had a different tone as his family prepared for the funeral. Daniel wrote what looked to be about five pages about his father in a journal that he wanted read at the service. These pages only began to scratch the surface of the stories that surround this man and his legacy and Daniel was still jotting down notes as we stood in the church parking lot. He had so many nicknames that went as far back as his high school football days that the family was trying to figure out who might know how he got them.  Many knew him as "Diz" and there was one theory that he got his bell rung so many times playing football that someone thought he wandered over to the wrong huddle one time and thus the name. However, that could not be confirmed. 

The service was the biggest the little town of Stuttgart had ever experienced. As people poured in to pay tribute to their friend the funeral director had to get creative on where to seat all of them. Many were in the balcony sitting with the choir. Everyone enjoyed the stories Daniel had written and the sound of laughter resonated through the church walls.

I've posted pictures before of Norman's blacksmith shop but this building is so beautiful I couldn't help snapping another one. It just happens to sit next to the church.

This is Stuttgart Oil, Norman's garage that he took over from his father back in 1955. This is where he worked 10 hour days up until the past few months when his health wouldn't allow it any longer. This is also where locals would congregate at the end of the work day for something cold to drink and some good conversation. They always got both.

May 17, 2012

All week Daniel and I have been looking forward to a long weekend in Western Kansas. Looking forward with apprehension at the prospect that his father may not be able to enjoy the festivities. Daniel's niece is getting married on Saturday and there is a lot of family traveling there to help her celebrate. We were supposed to be among them but tonight I'm home alone and feeling lost that I'm not on my way as well. Earlier today Daniel learned that his father had suddenly passed away.

Since last Fall Daniel's father, Norm has progressively had heart issues. For a man who  worked everyday of his life, suddenly he was not able to work in his garage and B.S. with customers; most certainly two of the things he enjoyed most aside from his family. I didn't know Norm overly well but from the minute I first met him I knew two things;One, he was a character and two, he had a big heart. He seemed so familiar to me and I remember writing about how there was something about him that reminded me of my dad. Perhaps it was just the overalls but Norm was the type of person who made you feel welcome right off. Our first meeting consisted of drinking whiskey in the kitchen and listening to everyone swap funny stories about the family. After that, he would ask how I was doing and have Daniel be sure to tell me 'hello.' Once he even told me how happy he was that I was with seeing his boy and that he loved me like part of the family. He was one of the most sincere men I've ever met and the apple doesn't fall far from that tree. He was loved by so many people and he will be sadly missed. Tonight several of the garage regulars held a vigil of sorts outside Norm's garage, drinking beer and shedding tears as they swapped stories of this Stuttgart icon and his unselfish generosity. 

It kills me not to be able to say 'good-bye' in person. He was so good to me though he hardly knew me. That's just the kind of person he was and he will always hold a special place in my heart.  

Long Lost Pics of Downtown STL

I remember in kindergarten this short, stocky little boy use to terrify me by chasing me around the playground trying to kiss me on the cheek. I HATED recess for that very reason and I was so relieved when another girl caught his attention so I could slip back into the background.

I've enjoyed blending in my whole life. I don't say that as a 'poor pitiful me' thing, I'm sincere. I don't like attention, never have and unless I have some sort of traumatic brain injury, that's not ever going to change. Let me be clear on one thing however; being forgotten is not the same as not wanting to draw attention. It always sucks to know someone you care about doesn't think of you any longer but I digress.

Meeting Daniel was purely by chance. I was shocked at how easily I gravitated to him and vice versa. For a change I had to figure out how to get this guy's attention, something I am not good at doing and talk about an awkward process. I knew if I really wanted to meet him I couldn't let myself just fade into the crowd.  I had to get out of my comfort zone and take a chance. It was well worth the risk.

It's awkward to profess your admiration for someone especially when you don't know them very well. In a million years I would never have expected to have a 'secret admirer.' In my head that is freaking hilarious! I have never easily accepted compliments. A part of me doesn't feel worthy of the words so I tend to treat certain people cooly. Often times I feel like I want to show emotion, but it simply doesn't happen so I do nothing. I wonder if this is a trait we acquire as we get older or perhaps it is from years of getting our feelings trampled.

This week I was the one doing the trampling. It was not intentional but there was nothing I could say so I pulled the usual and said nothing. I'm very content and happy with where I am and I have fought hard to get here. I did not solicit this person's attention and this little incident will quickly pass I'm sure.

I sure wish someone would tell me at what age a person outgrows the incessant need to be a complete drama queen, or in the case of last Friday, a drama KING. A distant friend of mine that I’ve had for the past few years told me, “It’s better for you if we aren’t friends anymore.”  Uuuuh, ooookay…., what are we, twelve??  Then I was told that “someone” had contacted him to say they didn’t think our banter on Facebook which primarily consisted of trying to out due the other with insults, was appropriate and in a nutshell he should leave me alone. Since he refused to give me a name AND this alleged person was NOT my Daniel, (the only person who has the right to make such a request but is much too classy for that type of childish behavior), I conceded that this dude was making the whole thing up simply to get my attention. Guess that backfired because I told him to have a nice life and hit ‘delete.’ 

I started off the week with 14 year old drama and ended the week with a 40 year old acting like he’s 14. The latest saying at our house right now is, “Ain’t nobody got time for that” and that is exactly why I dismissed the whole incident. My only regret is I wish we hadn’t given him the power of ruining 90% of our evening; the first real date we’ve had in months. I demand a do-over! 

The remainder of our weekend was spent mowing and cleaning out the garage. The house has officially been on the market a few weeks and this is where we spend most of our free time. I think we take turns feeling over-whelmed but we have made good progress. Now to find the perfect buyer for this huge house. 

Sunday we drove two hours to take my mom to lunch for Mother's Day then promptly drove back home. It was a quick trip but I know mom appreciated it. My Mother’s Day was complete with a crape myrtle for my front yard, (which Daniel planted for me) an awesome card from the girls, and a gift certificate to Charming Charlie.  I even got my yard mowed for me. That alone was present enough (but I didn’t tell them that).

As a parent my first instinct is to protect my kids from physical and emotional harm. So when my kid is beside herself because one of her friends back home attempted to end her life because some other kids told her to, I immediately get defensive. My first thought is to call the mother of the bully girl but what the hell would I say to her that wouldn’t warrant an immediate hang up? Teenage drama is brutal and I’m convinced in part it stems from kids not having enough positive things to do coupled with absent or just absent-minded parents. 

My second thought is how can I remove this child from a bad situation? Let her come here to live with us? It appears that her mother is not an active player in her life and she is basically being raised by her grandmother. Turns out Gen has already offered our home to her. Taking in strays is undoubtedly something she acquired from me. Ever since high school I have a long history of taking in people who need “fixing.” (By the way, not one time has that turned out to be a good thing). I had to tell her that we could arrange a short stay this summer but it would not be a “live with us” situation. That just isn’t a good idea. 

The third thought is what if this is all a rouse for attention?  What if she is simply playing Gen and we go off like storm troopers defending her? That’s not likely to end well either. 

When we moved here I worried that my girls would get caught up in drama x 2. Them being new I braced myself for a couple years of them being outcasts until they found their groove.  Not the case, in fact the exact opposite. I’m not saying it’s been all unicorns and rainbows but it’s been pretty good overall. As I was filled with anguish and anger Saturday night at the despair this little girl was expressing it made me even more convinced I did the right thing moving away. Once upon a time I was convinced raising my kids in a small town was ideal but that thought was quickly extinguished by gossipy hypocrites and the holier than thou's whose over-privileged brats need a stern come to Jesus meeting. Perhaps that speech should start with, “Don’t you EVER let me hear or hear that you said THIS to another human being, EVER!” 

Kids get away with shit because we let them. If my kid was responsible for another child hurting him/herself I would never forgive myself. On the flip side if I ignored a child’s cried for help whether they were an attention rouse or not, I would never forgive myself. 

Thank you God that my child possesses a good heart filled with compassion. Maybe she saved a life this week.

My entries of been few and far between the past couple of months due (in part) to my precious lime green Dell passing away. Me not having my laptop at home was like a junkie unable to score a hit; downright painful. That was all remedied last week when my shiny new Dell showed up on my doorstep. Now if I could just find where Syd put my camera I’d be in business. 

“Marco-ooooo!”

Family reunions were something that I always dreaded growing up. The thought of spending a summer afternoon in a cold church basement eating mystery food prepared gawd knows where and making awkward chit-chat with old people I only saw once a year was NOT my idea of a good time. I was thankful once I got to high school and could drive so I could at least leave early. Even now mom talks about cousin so-and-so and I have no idea who she is talking about. I know that’s my own fault for being so disconnected. I also know that’s why I don’t have a close relationship with either side of my family now. I have a hard time relating to my friends who do have that. It seems very foreign. Why would you want all those people causing you grief because from what I’ve experienced, that’s essentially what they do. 

I am a big supporter of adopting but there is something about being adopted that makes you feel different. My parents adopted me when I was three days old. I was lucky; my sister and I were both lucky. As a kid it was hard sometimes not knowing where I fit in the family tree. I struggled with feeling like an outcast. Some feelings don’t subside as you get older. There seems to be something about that blood connection that trumps everything else. 

I have very little of my grandma’s things even though I grew up a mile from her. Now that gram is moving from her house her daughters are gathering her knick-knacks as keepsakes for their kids. Since my mom is not ‘blood’ and dad is gone I doubt my sister and I will even be a passing thought. I was told the other day after venting about the situation, “What did you expect? You and your sister have never mattered because you’re adopted. Now that your dad is gone they don’t owe you anything.” It’s true. Now that dad is gone his sisters no longer include my mom in their “sister weekends.” She gets her feelings hurt easily so she just says “whatever” and goes on. 

Still…., truth hurts and if you let them, families can hurt you more. My kids, Blake, and baby W will never get that from me.  Never. It’s in writing.

What's In A Name?

At some point I seem to have inadvertently traded my title as ‘mom’, ‘mommy’, or ‘mama’ for nicknames such as ‘hey girl’, ‘what bro?’, ‘yeah dawg’ and the occasional, 'dang Gina!'.  Uh,… okay?  I guess I should be relieved they aren’t cursing and throwing lit matches at me.  I’m just saying it could be worse.  I hate to admit it but I did get the giggles one night when driving down Mass Street and I heard Gen say, “Yeah, you walk that dog girl.” 

Both of the girls had big softball tournaments this past weekend and of course they had to be in two different STATES. Their dad and I decided one of us with go with one kid Saturday and then switch on Sunday so we’d both get equal time. Gentry wanted me to come with her Saturday so the two of us went to Olathe.  She has really improved her game this spring. She finally has a coach who is encouraging and pushes her. He says he could see her talent potential when she first joined the team and knew he just needed to put her in a position to succeed. As as result her confidence is up and she's happy again. They played three games on Saturday and every time she got up to bat her teammates would yell, “Come on Big G!” Once I made eye contact with her and said, “Hit the ball girl.” She said, “Okay I will girl.” She stepped up and hit a double on the first pitch. Dang Gina!  She then went on to hit two more doubles in the next game. On the way home we were so pumped up from the excitement of the day and I told her that her new nickname should be “Double G.” My cleverness was apparently lost on her because she said she didn’t get it… (There’s nothing like having to explain a big boob double reference to your 14 year old).  *sigh*