Family Tales
by DebraThomas
 Musings
Sep 15, 2011 | 2660 views |  0 comments | 28 28 recommendations | email to a friend | print | permalink

I reflect sometimes on the strangest things. For the last few days I have been thinking about my family. Not just my Mom, she is still witty and to me just as beautiful as ever. Daddy told her one time she was a Poor Mans Miss America.  She is older but still as compassionate and loving as ever.  

 I think about my sister. She was born at a different time than I was, which makes sense, but I mean it was a very different time in the US and all over, not just in the family. She was born in a home where the Dairy is now and she and Mother lived with my Grandmother and Grandfather because Daddy was gone overseas with the Air Force.  She became a teen when Elvis was just starting out and experienced things I will never be able to. There are just some things and times that can not be recreated. She was overseas at a later time with Daddy and Mother and visited places that I will never see. I would listen as she and my parents would bring out some old slides and they would talk about when they visited France or Spain or Italy. Of course by the time I was beginning to understand what was going on at the age of 5, she was married and gone to another land, Cleveland, Ohio and I thought that was the end of the world.

My brother is a few years older than I am. He also grew up in a different time. He knew some of the overseas trips and was in most of the photos and movies and slides taken while they lived the military life, but not a sign of me. He played high school football but then he got hurt and had to have surgery so that ended his sports career. Then Viet Nam started up when he was graduating from High School and because he had to have shoulder surgery, he couldn't go, so Thank God we were spared losing him.

Mother worked at a local auto finance and insurance office with Daddy.  I can remember one time I was about 6; a customer came in and saw me sitting at Mothers desk.  He asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and without ever thinking about the answer I told him what was in my mind and heart. I wanted to be like Moma. I wanted to do what she does.  She smiled and kinda laughed a little bit, and I am sure in recollection, she probably blushed a little, but I was serious. I wanted to be like my Mother.

I wanted to be a secretary or whatever it was she did there at the office with Daddy. I wanted to be as pretty as she was and I wanted to carry myself in the graceful manner and be a lady just like Moma.

Well, Daddy died when I was 15 so my adulthood started immediately. There was no transition. It was my time to take care of Moma and be sure she didnt want for anything or be sad. If I only knew. I have no idea how many tears she shed without letting me see, but I do know that she is still as much the lady I remember of the 60s and carries herself in such a sweet manner to this day.

I tease her sometimes that once I get her raised, I dont want any more!!! She tells me without missing a beat that she just thanks God I wasnt twins. We both know the other is kidding and that we are both so thankful and so fortunate to have each other and that along the way when she became a widow suddenly at age 47 and I became an adult at 15 and braces freshly off my teeth, that we would be each others rock. Each others stability. And to this day, we are.

My sister had two boys and they have grown and gone their ways. One has two childen and the other lives in California and is loving it. My brother never had children and I didnt either. No reason except that God gives us what we are supposed to have at the time we are supposed to have whatever gift He is giving us.

So I guess since he has no children, he chose to raise me and Moma.

He lives in Montgomery and is married to his childhood best friend. 

We are a small family but one that is blessed. Not especially with money, or with things, but with a lot of love. And you know, sometimes that is worth more than any tangible things on this earth.    At least thats how I see it.

 

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