I wanna go back
I have been in a lot of pain today. Most of the time I can ignore it, but it's been bad the past couple of days, so I get more depressed than usual and one thing leads to another.
My son and I were watching the old Bugs Bunny movie and Yosemite Sam came on. Funny how things can bring back memories. My former father-in-law, Elwood Holmes, absolutely loved him. We lived with him when my oldest, now passed, was born. He would wake us up every Saturday morning laughing at Yosemite. He also irritated Chris to death. We would tell him he was sleeping and he'd go in and mess with him until he woke up and cried, then come in the living room and say "baby's up!" I miss him, he died of cancer in the mid 90s. Pure country boy, lived in Sissonville, loved kids and the messes they make. He'd load up mine and his 2 from his second marriage and take them all over, the more the merrier. I used to mess with him bad to get him speechless, then he'd laugh. My ex never cared for his father because it was too much for him to even remotely be country. Didn't like his grandfather either, said he was hateful and hated kids. First time he met my son, who was a baby, he carried him all over his land, showing him the smoke house, how to divine water, etc. RIP, I miss you two.
I also miss my grandfather in law, Harold Taylor, the gentlest yet toughest man I've ever met. His wife and my mother in law didn't like me at all at first because my oldest son was from a previous relationship, felt I'd trapped my husband, even though I was on my own and working when I met him. Harold didn't care, he came over anyway all the time and would tell me "don't pay no attention to them, they just need something to fuss about." When Chris was born, he padded a laundry basket and carried him all over the place. When he could walk well enough to follow papaw around, they would walk by the tracks, both loved trains. Chris was his little shadow. They made makeshift little wooden things in the basement, had long walks and long talks. I would make the few hours trip to see him as much as possible. One night I was at his son's house where he lived and I was telling him things I found out about our ancestry and he smiled and took my hand and said "you know I believe we may have been best friends in another life." What a complement. When Chris was at his sickest the last few years he said over and over to bury him with pawpaw, and we did. He also said several times that when in the hospital papaw would come to him and tell him it would be okay, and I believe him. The last time he was in the hospital pawpaw didn't tell him that. I like to think they are walking on the tracks talking somewhere now. I hope to someday be right with them.
I miss Harold's wife, Idalene. She was the griffest sounding old lady you ever saw. She had an absolutely amazing sense of humor. We lived all over and I had enormous phone bills talking to her. She adored my son Brian because he was so rotten. Once on a trip from Florida to Nebraska, Brian was just maybe 18 months old and he said "pull over up here mom" and I said "what for" and he said "I just wanna shit for awhile." I called her and I had to put the phone away from my ear because she laughed so hard. When he did something rotten around her, she would give him 2 cookies, one for each hand, and say "now don't tell your mother." I miss her.
I miss my grandmother. She was very meek and a wonderful lady until she became an alcoholic. She went through a lot of pain from physical abuse. She would let me get a whole stack of dishrags out and cut them up and sew them into doll clothes. She taught me to iron, to clean fish. I followed her everywhere. She collected frogs so I would catch them and bring them to her. I cannot remember her ever saying a cross word. Classy lady, very classy. I remember riding the quarter bus that Don Taylor's brother drove down to a little trailer near Columbia for her to get her hair done every week. Miss you grandma (Maggie Butcher).
I miss my grandpa, had him around many more years than my grandma. He taught me to shoot when I was 4, we would line up cans on the trash barrel and shoot them off with a 410. I was good too! He taught me to fish with a little plastic pole, practicing in the creek. He taught me to hung ginseng, how to garden, about hunting. He brought home a baby squirrel we named peanuts. He brought home rattlers from snakes he killed while out hunting. He let me go, at a young age, to run the mountains, ride motorcycles, swim in the river, row the boat alone while in gradeschool. He taught me to be tough, how to camp. When he bought the Airstream in 1971, he let me take it over when we weren't camping. I spent hours out there listening to 8 tracks of the Supremes, Tom Jones, etc. He was a tough old bird and not prone to sentiment, mostly because of how his father was to him, which was not nice. He told me he loved me in 1998 for the first time. Unfortunately he married a woman who should have had a house dropped on her, and she made sure there was no contact between us at the end. I tried talking to him just before he died and she cut off the call. We didn't know he had even passed, but that very night my second son, Tony, woke up from a dead sleep at the same exact time I smelled my grandfather's after shave. Tony had tried to talk to him and he wasn't nice to him either, but he could feel his presence at the foot of his bed, and I smelled him. Tony and I believe to this day he came to say he was sorry. He found out a lot of things about his wife just before he died and a lot of this I believe contributed to his death. You are forgiven grandpa.
I miss my mommy every day. She didn't raise me. While on her honeymoon, an extended trip to Florida which is when she got pregnant with me, she found out the FBI was looking for my dad because he was a bigamist. Boy she tore him a new one, then she left him never to return, though he tried over the years. Grandparents raised me, she went off to see her sisters. Mom could never make a biscuit, ever, something her mother and aunts did perfectly. She made some and had family over when I was about 8 or 9, and they were so hard my stepdad and his brother threw them at each other to see who could do the most damage, particularly hard since my stepdad's brother was blind. She had her first cancer at age 19. She could fish, hunt, you name it, as well as any man. She always wanted to be a racecar driver. We had a black souped up SS and at the bump in the road in Columbia, she would floor it (driving barefoot always) so when we went over the hump we left the ground. It was awesome! She had her second cancer at 26, another at 27, all primaries. She had another at 32. She had pain the last 2 years of her life, so bad she kept a heating pad on on high, and once when she pulled it off it pulled skin with it. She went to the doctor but they didn't have the testing abilities they do now, just x-ray, so they missed it. She would stay up late and play games when all my friends came over. We loved to include her in everything. She absolutely loved Derb, when she was so sick he would call her and they'd be on the phone for more than an hour before she gave it to me. He would do his daffy duck voice for her. She was so bad she would sit on a chair to clean house. My sister and I tried to keep everything done but she still found more. When she died at 35, Derb was there, it about killed him, and later I returned the gesture with his mother when she passed. I wouldn't have made it without my dear friends who stayed with me, Greg, Keith, Kay, Derb. I miss her to this day. How any one person could go through what she did, she is my role model. Because of her I despise whining. I hurt everyday and try to keep telling myself it's nothing next to what she went through, and it's not. She always wanted a little boy, I hope she has met Chris now, she would love the sense of humor he had. I love you mom.
I don't think people realize how they become echoes in your head, the sound of a laugh, a voice. Something nice they did for you lasts a lifetime, how they acted sets your future. I can only hope I have carried these traits on for my children.
My son and I were watching the old Bugs Bunny movie and Yosemite Sam came on. Funny how things can bring back memories. My former father-in-law, Elwood Holmes, absolutely loved him. We lived with him when my oldest, now passed, was born. He would wake us up every Saturday morning laughing at Yosemite. He also irritated Chris to death. We would tell him he was sleeping and he'd go in and mess with him until he woke up and cried, then come in the living room and say "baby's up!" I miss him, he died of cancer in the mid 90s. Pure country boy, lived in Sissonville, loved kids and the messes they make. He'd load up mine and his 2 from his second marriage and take them all over, the more the merrier. I used to mess with him bad to get him speechless, then he'd laugh. My ex never cared for his father because it was too much for him to even remotely be country. Didn't like his grandfather either, said he was hateful and hated kids. First time he met my son, who was a baby, he carried him all over his land, showing him the smoke house, how to divine water, etc. RIP, I miss you two.
I also miss my grandfather in law, Harold Taylor, the gentlest yet toughest man I've ever met. His wife and my mother in law didn't like me at all at first because my oldest son was from a previous relationship, felt I'd trapped my husband, even though I was on my own and working when I met him. Harold didn't care, he came over anyway all the time and would tell me "don't pay no attention to them, they just need something to fuss about." When Chris was born, he padded a laundry basket and carried him all over the place. When he could walk well enough to follow papaw around, they would walk by the tracks, both loved trains. Chris was his little shadow. They made makeshift little wooden things in the basement, had long walks and long talks. I would make the few hours trip to see him as much as possible. One night I was at his son's house where he lived and I was telling him things I found out about our ancestry and he smiled and took my hand and said "you know I believe we may have been best friends in another life." What a complement. When Chris was at his sickest the last few years he said over and over to bury him with pawpaw, and we did. He also said several times that when in the hospital papaw would come to him and tell him it would be okay, and I believe him. The last time he was in the hospital pawpaw didn't tell him that. I like to think they are walking on the tracks talking somewhere now. I hope to someday be right with them.
I miss Harold's wife, Idalene. She was the griffest sounding old lady you ever saw. She had an absolutely amazing sense of humor. We lived all over and I had enormous phone bills talking to her. She adored my son Brian because he was so rotten. Once on a trip from Florida to Nebraska, Brian was just maybe 18 months old and he said "pull over up here mom" and I said "what for" and he said "I just wanna shit for awhile." I called her and I had to put the phone away from my ear because she laughed so hard. When he did something rotten around her, she would give him 2 cookies, one for each hand, and say "now don't tell your mother." I miss her.
I miss my grandmother. She was very meek and a wonderful lady until she became an alcoholic. She went through a lot of pain from physical abuse. She would let me get a whole stack of dishrags out and cut them up and sew them into doll clothes. She taught me to iron, to clean fish. I followed her everywhere. She collected frogs so I would catch them and bring them to her. I cannot remember her ever saying a cross word. Classy lady, very classy. I remember riding the quarter bus that Don Taylor's brother drove down to a little trailer near Columbia for her to get her hair done every week. Miss you grandma (Maggie Butcher).
I miss my grandpa, had him around many more years than my grandma. He taught me to shoot when I was 4, we would line up cans on the trash barrel and shoot them off with a 410. I was good too! He taught me to fish with a little plastic pole, practicing in the creek. He taught me to hung ginseng, how to garden, about hunting. He brought home a baby squirrel we named peanuts. He brought home rattlers from snakes he killed while out hunting. He let me go, at a young age, to run the mountains, ride motorcycles, swim in the river, row the boat alone while in gradeschool. He taught me to be tough, how to camp. When he bought the Airstream in 1971, he let me take it over when we weren't camping. I spent hours out there listening to 8 tracks of the Supremes, Tom Jones, etc. He was a tough old bird and not prone to sentiment, mostly because of how his father was to him, which was not nice. He told me he loved me in 1998 for the first time. Unfortunately he married a woman who should have had a house dropped on her, and she made sure there was no contact between us at the end. I tried talking to him just before he died and she cut off the call. We didn't know he had even passed, but that very night my second son, Tony, woke up from a dead sleep at the same exact time I smelled my grandfather's after shave. Tony had tried to talk to him and he wasn't nice to him either, but he could feel his presence at the foot of his bed, and I smelled him. Tony and I believe to this day he came to say he was sorry. He found out a lot of things about his wife just before he died and a lot of this I believe contributed to his death. You are forgiven grandpa.
I miss my mommy every day. She didn't raise me. While on her honeymoon, an extended trip to Florida which is when she got pregnant with me, she found out the FBI was looking for my dad because he was a bigamist. Boy she tore him a new one, then she left him never to return, though he tried over the years. Grandparents raised me, she went off to see her sisters. Mom could never make a biscuit, ever, something her mother and aunts did perfectly. She made some and had family over when I was about 8 or 9, and they were so hard my stepdad and his brother threw them at each other to see who could do the most damage, particularly hard since my stepdad's brother was blind. She had her first cancer at age 19. She could fish, hunt, you name it, as well as any man. She always wanted to be a racecar driver. We had a black souped up SS and at the bump in the road in Columbia, she would floor it (driving barefoot always) so when we went over the hump we left the ground. It was awesome! She had her second cancer at 26, another at 27, all primaries. She had another at 32. She had pain the last 2 years of her life, so bad she kept a heating pad on on high, and once when she pulled it off it pulled skin with it. She went to the doctor but they didn't have the testing abilities they do now, just x-ray, so they missed it. She would stay up late and play games when all my friends came over. We loved to include her in everything. She absolutely loved Derb, when she was so sick he would call her and they'd be on the phone for more than an hour before she gave it to me. He would do his daffy duck voice for her. She was so bad she would sit on a chair to clean house. My sister and I tried to keep everything done but she still found more. When she died at 35, Derb was there, it about killed him, and later I returned the gesture with his mother when she passed. I wouldn't have made it without my dear friends who stayed with me, Greg, Keith, Kay, Derb. I miss her to this day. How any one person could go through what she did, she is my role model. Because of her I despise whining. I hurt everyday and try to keep telling myself it's nothing next to what she went through, and it's not. She always wanted a little boy, I hope she has met Chris now, she would love the sense of humor he had. I love you mom.
I don't think people realize how they become echoes in your head, the sound of a laugh, a voice. Something nice they did for you lasts a lifetime, how they acted sets your future. I can only hope I have carried these traits on for my children.
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